Mongolian

Camels wearing coats! How precious.

Day Five Hundred & Eighteen
Saturday, November 5th 2011

It occurs to me now that I've been too hard on myself. “Minii Mongol hel mash jarkhan bain,” I've been telling people, informing them that I only know a small amount of Mongolian. What I should be saying is “Minii Mongol hel gagui,” because honestly, my Mongolian language is okay. Fortunately for me, but unfortunately in the grander scheme of things regarding human nature (namely, the ability some people have to affect others by using tactics to keep their friends in a rightful place, which is all too commonly below them), I can trace where this lack of confidence originated.

While I struggled throughout pre-service training with Mongolian, I never necessarily felt that I was at a lack or loss for resources. My learning style continues to be vastly different from the way Peace Corps approaches teaching us the language. We were thrust into Mongolian immersion style, where the classroom was conducted entirely in Mongolian (by our language & culture facilitators who spoke not a word of English). Consequently, I was immersed not in a thriving learning environment (because this particular tactic does not address my learning style), but instead, I was immersed in my dictionary. Now, I have the uncanny ability to find both English & Mongolian words very quickly. This has come in useful.

I told myself not to worry, because I'd eventually learn through osmosis. While many of my training site peers excelled, nay, even studied Mongolian, I trotted along oblivious & fairly defeated. The stress of going to language class for four hours each morning (five days a week) was something I dreaded with a passion. By the end of training, I could greet others, name a few basic food items, introduce myself, tell people that I came from America, & I had a great grasp on the Cyrillic alphabet (which can be credited to the help of my little host cousins). I could say words like “tsetseg” (flower) & “moor” (cat).

The only reason I wasn't happy with my language abilities was because of the comparison to those around me. An ill-fated self-defense mechanism came into play, whereby I told other volunteers that my Mongolian wasn't all that hot. For every time I said this, I solidified even more my apparent lack of abilities. It remains the case that many people view my language abilities in this lacking & negative manner. How foolish I was.

I first proved my ability to communicate when I traveled to UB alone last April in order to get Chicago vaccinated & neutered. I was able to get myself there & back with relative ease, & I recall the taxi driver who brought me into the heart of the city from the airport commenting on how my Mongolian was very good. However, when other volunteers are around, I find myself shutting up & closing down. It is as though I am perpetuating their false notions of my inability to communicate.

Yesterday, some of my fifth graders stopped by, curious as to the results of their English test. They stayed & we chatted for a good fifteen minutes in Mongolian. I told them that I was busy (as I always seem to be) because I have to study for my graduate school test. Today, a random Mongolian woman saw me as I was doing chores outside, & invited herself over. In her hands, she held a skein of yarn & a few knitting needles. She also had knitting patterns which were written in Russian, & she asked me if I knew Russian. She told me that she has six children, one of whom is named Munkhoo, & that he was currently in the library. She asked whether I knew him, but I told her I didn't. (Even if I did know a Munkhoo, there have to be at least half a dozen in our school alone.) Asking whether or not I had any kids, I told her I had one: “Minii hairtai moor,” my beloved cat. She laughed & we shared one of those rare moments of human connection that makes Peace Corps so worth it.

This is me publicly reaffirming my Mongolian abilities. There is no reason why I should feel bad about myself, just because of what another volunteer has commented. (One volunteer in the past has even gone so far as to say that I can't speak French, on the grounds of this particular volunteer being very competitive as well as the fact that this person perceived my Mongolian skills to be less than their own.) Well, excusez-moi de vous avoir dérangé mon ami, mais vous êtes une personne qui êtes très méchant. (Et non, je ne veux pas votre amitié.) Je viens d'écrire une lettre en français à mon ami qui vit en Pologne, donc je pense que je connais très bien le français. To put it mildly, I'm more than slightly irked.

If Peace Corps has taught me anything, it is how to better identify people who I simply do not wish to include in the more intimate circles of my life, namely, those who continually seek self-gratification by putting others down. I'm in my mid-twenties now. I've had a lifetime's worth of this nonsense, & I certainly will not be wasting any more of my time where I can avoid it. If only to reiterate to myself for the thousandth time, I must remind myself of advice given to me by my dear friend, Rachel. She said to focus my energy & love on those people who are worth it, the positive people in my life who care about me. So, while I may not frequently discuss the philosophical debate surrounding the question of the meaning of life in Mongolian, I am certainly capable of connecting with others on a significant level by using my linguistic skills. & this is, after all, the purpose of Peace Corps.