Monday, July 21, 2008
And I'm back...
The PCMO (Peace Corps Medical Officer) gave me a whole lot of stripable free weights from his personal gym this past weekend. I'm working out at home now, but I'm back in business...
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Gym No More
Today is a sad, sad day. I was told that I can no longer go to my gym. The owner came into gym 15 minutes into my session and notified me that the lease has run out on the woman who runs the gym. I didn't even ask if the gym would be re-opened with him as manager or someone else because he made it very clear that I should not return. What can you say to that?
The most difficult part of all this is that going to that gym has been my mental health outlet. I have really relied on that gym.
The other difficult part is that I thought that the woman who ran the gym (one of Cady's clients) and I were friends. We had such a good relationship. She came into the gym a week ago with another man who was clearly a potential buyer looking at the equipment. She told me that everything was fine and that I shouldn't worry. My guess is that she could not afford the gym anymore. She recently took out a very large loan and I don't think that her regular clients were really paying regularly. It was business venture that was just too large and complicated for her. I wish she would have told me this herself.
I've spoken with our medical officer here and he is going to give me some dumbells to use at home. Coupled with a home work out dvd I hope to be getting from America, I think that I will be just fine. The sessions will be different, but that's okay. I will just have to be a little more creative now.
The most difficult part of all this is that going to that gym has been my mental health outlet. I have really relied on that gym.
The other difficult part is that I thought that the woman who ran the gym (one of Cady's clients) and I were friends. We had such a good relationship. She came into the gym a week ago with another man who was clearly a potential buyer looking at the equipment. She told me that everything was fine and that I shouldn't worry. My guess is that she could not afford the gym anymore. She recently took out a very large loan and I don't think that her regular clients were really paying regularly. It was business venture that was just too large and complicated for her. I wish she would have told me this herself.
I've spoken with our medical officer here and he is going to give me some dumbells to use at home. Coupled with a home work out dvd I hope to be getting from America, I think that I will be just fine. The sessions will be different, but that's okay. I will just have to be a little more creative now.
Friday, June 13, 2008
The Thrill of the Chase
I recently learned a very valuable lesson about life in the Mongolian countryside.
It was the last day of English Language Vacuum Training #2 (see previous Vacuum Training #1 blog entry if unfamiliar) and my PCV cohort, Brody, and I decided to go on a hike with the participants. Well, the teachers (as many Mongolians do) preferred to stroll out a bit, find a nice spot, sit down and relax with a little alcohol and some food. Brody and I, however, were up for a little more challenge. So, with our summit looking right at us in the distance, he and I went on ahead.
We were having a good time, talking about previous hikes we'd been on. We were making good time. We went quite a ways away from the others, making our way down a deep gully, then up again and then across a wide valley and onto a worn path to the top of a ridge. At the base of the ridge, on the other side, I honed in on two things: the base of the mountain where we would begin our ascent and a pretty well-developed ger and hashaa. Brody turned the other direction to gaze out on where we had come from and to see where the other teachers had stopped on the distant, first tall hill we'd crossed 45 minutes before. I was about to go for my camera when I saw imminent danger.
"Hey, Brody, turn around for second. Look down there."
"What?"
"Those dogs are coming for us...and fast!"
"Oh, sh*@!"
With the speed of a Mongol horde, 4 large dogs were racing from the hashaa, across the valley and up the ridge we had been standing on. Immediately Brody and I took off running. We could see that we could not match their speed and that within seconds they would be on top of us. We were running for our lives, frantically looking for sticks and rocks. There weren't any. We continually looked back to check their progress. We braced ourselves for the worst.
In the time that we ran 50 yards, the dogs had probably covered a distance of about 400 yards. They were big, fast and had a single thought on their minds: attack.
As we fled down the long ridge slope we continually looked at each other with equal dread fear and inextinguishable excitement. There are few times in my life when I thought I was going to die. This was one of them.
Just as we discovered a few frail sticks we noticed that the herder, riding on his horse, had topped the ridge. He'd called off the hunt.
Now safe, Brody and I could not help but laugh at our good fortune. How close we had come. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was even...fun?
Whatever it was, it was intense and it has opened my eyes to how life really is on the steppe.
It was the last day of English Language Vacuum Training #2 (see previous Vacuum Training #1 blog entry if unfamiliar) and my PCV cohort, Brody, and I decided to go on a hike with the participants. Well, the teachers (as many Mongolians do) preferred to stroll out a bit, find a nice spot, sit down and relax with a little alcohol and some food. Brody and I, however, were up for a little more challenge. So, with our summit looking right at us in the distance, he and I went on ahead.
We were having a good time, talking about previous hikes we'd been on. We were making good time. We went quite a ways away from the others, making our way down a deep gully, then up again and then across a wide valley and onto a worn path to the top of a ridge. At the base of the ridge, on the other side, I honed in on two things: the base of the mountain where we would begin our ascent and a pretty well-developed ger and hashaa. Brody turned the other direction to gaze out on where we had come from and to see where the other teachers had stopped on the distant, first tall hill we'd crossed 45 minutes before. I was about to go for my camera when I saw imminent danger.
"Hey, Brody, turn around for second. Look down there."
"What?"
"Those dogs are coming for us...and fast!"
"Oh, sh*@!"
With the speed of a Mongol horde, 4 large dogs were racing from the hashaa, across the valley and up the ridge we had been standing on. Immediately Brody and I took off running. We could see that we could not match their speed and that within seconds they would be on top of us. We were running for our lives, frantically looking for sticks and rocks. There weren't any. We continually looked back to check their progress. We braced ourselves for the worst.
In the time that we ran 50 yards, the dogs had probably covered a distance of about 400 yards. They were big, fast and had a single thought on their minds: attack.
As we fled down the long ridge slope we continually looked at each other with equal dread fear and inextinguishable excitement. There are few times in my life when I thought I was going to die. This was one of them.
Just as we discovered a few frail sticks we noticed that the herder, riding on his horse, had topped the ridge. He'd called off the hunt.
Now safe, Brody and I could not help but laugh at our good fortune. How close we had come. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was even...fun?
Whatever it was, it was intense and it has opened my eyes to how life really is on the steppe.
Monday, June 2, 2008
One YEAR!
Well, we made it! It's been a year (TODAY!), and we're so happy to share with all of you that we are happy, healthy, and time has been flying by! It's hard to believe that only one year ago we knew very little about our future home, spoke no Mongolian, and were flying by the seat of our pants. Today, we speak a little more Mongolian, know more about our current home of Mongolia, although we're still flying by the seat of our pants!
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Trafficking In Persons
One secondary project I spend a lot of my time on is "Trafficking in Persons," or "TIP", related issues. I sit on the TIP committee for Peace Corps Mongolia, put together training materials for other PCVs to use, give trainings around town to different groups, and work with Mongolian NGOs focused on TIP issues to improve PCV collaboration.
In March, another PCV, our Mongolian counterpart, and I had a hugely successful event-- over 600 high school students attended a training at the local theater, sponsored by the Darkhan Student Union and Women's Union. There was the traditional Mongolian pomp and circumstance, many speeches preceeding our training, a giant sign with logos, and all the traditional Mongolian "event" makings. It was fantastic to see such a large audience reached and awesome to think about making that many people aware of the topic and increasing their awareness of TIP, travelling abroad, and making smart decisions about work/study abroad opportunities.
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One of the many speeches preeceding our training
But today, on a smaller, but possibly more effective scale, today I gave a training to 50 college students studying to be social workers. There was no stage, no bright lights, and certainly no speeches by the aimag governor. But these social workers will be the people placed in local government houses, local schools, and hospitals. These women and men will be the ones who can have a direct and real impact on the people and communities they will serve. They were engaged, interested, and feverishly taking notes. They will be the people who can identify vulnerable and at-risk youth, and now armed with the information about TIP issues in Mongolia, hopefully they can make a difference.
It's times like today when I realize scale isn't important-- it's the quality and capacity for development and improvement of those involved.
In March, another PCV, our Mongolian counterpart, and I had a hugely successful event-- over 600 high school students attended a training at the local theater, sponsored by the Darkhan Student Union and Women's Union. There was the traditional Mongolian pomp and circumstance, many speeches preceeding our training, a giant sign with logos, and all the traditional Mongolian "event" makings. It was fantastic to see such a large audience reached and awesome to think about making that many people aware of the topic and increasing their awareness of TIP, travelling abroad, and making smart decisions about work/study abroad opportunities.
.jpg)
One of the many speeches preeceding our training
But today, on a smaller, but possibly more effective scale, today I gave a training to 50 college students studying to be social workers. There was no stage, no bright lights, and certainly no speeches by the aimag governor. But these social workers will be the people placed in local government houses, local schools, and hospitals. These women and men will be the ones who can have a direct and real impact on the people and communities they will serve. They were engaged, interested, and feverishly taking notes. They will be the people who can identify vulnerable and at-risk youth, and now armed with the information about TIP issues in Mongolia, hopefully they can make a difference.
It's times like today when I realize scale isn't important-- it's the quality and capacity for development and improvement of those involved.
Friday, May 9, 2008
A "Rocky" Moment
Usually when I run to the gym I am met with wide eyes and dropped jaws. I may as well have green skin and 3 heads. Some people pivot their heads and watch me run passed. Some stop and watch in awe or bewilderment. Some, usually those in front of me, clear far out of the way. Most of the amazed and confused are older people, though the ages really range.
Generally, I waive to the children as I run passed. Usually, I get a smile and a waive back. The young people are the ones who are entertained and/or genuinely interested/intrigued by the large, white running man.
Yesterday, I had a "Rocky" moment. You remember from the original what happens when Rocky Balboa is full into his training and running through the streets of Philadelphia? That's right. Kids excitedly ran alongside and behind him. Now, I didn't have a mob, but I did have two boys, middle school-aged, who, when they saw me, picked up their pace and ran with me all the way to the gym. This is a good 10-minute run, some of it downhill and some uphill. A couple times in the past I've had kids run with me before, but never for this long.
Occasionally I even see others running for recreation. Hmm.
Cady tells me that every once and a while clients entering her office mention that they saw the large, white running man running by and isn't that her husband?
Yup, jog fever appears to be catching on!
Generally, I waive to the children as I run passed. Usually, I get a smile and a waive back. The young people are the ones who are entertained and/or genuinely interested/intrigued by the large, white running man.
Yesterday, I had a "Rocky" moment. You remember from the original what happens when Rocky Balboa is full into his training and running through the streets of Philadelphia? That's right. Kids excitedly ran alongside and behind him. Now, I didn't have a mob, but I did have two boys, middle school-aged, who, when they saw me, picked up their pace and ran with me all the way to the gym. This is a good 10-minute run, some of it downhill and some uphill. A couple times in the past I've had kids run with me before, but never for this long.
Occasionally I even see others running for recreation. Hmm.
Cady tells me that every once and a while clients entering her office mention that they saw the large, white running man running by and isn't that her husband?
Yup, jog fever appears to be catching on!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Watching Mongolia Go By
After running home from the gym or coming back from a long run in the hills, I like to sit on the steps leading up to the doorway of our apartment building. Listening to my iPod, I take at least 15 minutes just to watch Mongolia go by.
Whether cold enough to see my breath or warm enough to strip layers, I look forward to getting home, to cooling down and taking in those few stolen minutes out of the day when I can think about anything and nothing.
It gives me an opportunity to “stop and smell the roses.” Or, the smoke from a dozen or so fires set to remove the weeds around the nearby school. I can relax and enjoy the sun and cool breeze. Or, I can nervously anticipate which kid will plummet to his/her death climbing and jumping from one tattered building top to another. I can enjoy my music in peace. Or, the incessant horn-honking as one car impatiently awaits someone who doesn’t seem to be coming can rattle my cage. I never really know what’s going to happen.
I waive to the kids, smile at the young people who pass by and say “Sain bain uu, ta?” to the older folks approaching the doorway.
I gaze out, passed the many apartment buildings, on the mountains in the distance. In the other direction, looking west, I can watch as the sun sets behind the towering white Buddha.
And in my little corner of Mongolia, early morning, mid-afternoon or night, this really is one of my favorite places to be, one of my favorite times of the day.
Whether cold enough to see my breath or warm enough to strip layers, I look forward to getting home, to cooling down and taking in those few stolen minutes out of the day when I can think about anything and nothing.
It gives me an opportunity to “stop and smell the roses.” Or, the smoke from a dozen or so fires set to remove the weeds around the nearby school. I can relax and enjoy the sun and cool breeze. Or, I can nervously anticipate which kid will plummet to his/her death climbing and jumping from one tattered building top to another. I can enjoy my music in peace. Or, the incessant horn-honking as one car impatiently awaits someone who doesn’t seem to be coming can rattle my cage. I never really know what’s going to happen.
I waive to the kids, smile at the young people who pass by and say “Sain bain uu, ta?” to the older folks approaching the doorway.
I gaze out, passed the many apartment buildings, on the mountains in the distance. In the other direction, looking west, I can watch as the sun sets behind the towering white Buddha.
And in my little corner of Mongolia, early morning, mid-afternoon or night, this really is one of my favorite places to be, one of my favorite times of the day.
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