You can't fight dragons everyday

It has been routine to go into town and hit up the few supermarkets and do our grocery runs on the weekend. A few weekends ago, I picked up one of my favorite t-shirts I brought to Mongolia. It has a pixelated picture of a nintendo warrior, with the phrase "I fight dragons" underneath. It just happened to be inside out. In my laziness, I decided to go with the second best SMSU wrestling dry fit. 

As Dan and I wandered around Mercury, the flea market of grocery stores, we soon became distracted. I had bags of meat, vegetables, and a random assortment of random junk. Dan said he'd meet me outside he was going to the bathroom, or the korean shop, or the meat market. I didn't really hear him, I just smiled and nodded. So I went outside, and stood there, probably looking like an idiot. 

Another American looking guy, and what I presumed was his wife, came up to me. He put his finger to my chest and asked, "Missouri?" 

Looking down, I realized the SMSU was barely visable through the crease in my jacket. I informed him I was from Minnesota, and had come here to teach. He was here with Athletes in Action, and had been for a few years. We chatted for a while, realized we knew a lot of the same people in the states and in Mongolia. We exchanged numbers, and parted ways. 

A few days later, (Steven was his name) Steven called me, and asked if I wanted to hiking around Zaisan that sunday with a big wig in the judo world. I decided it would be a good idea, the trail was close by my apartment. 

Turns out the guy Steven was introducing me to was a big deal. He did something with the armed forces, and was pretty high up, or something. I didn't quite understand other than this guy was a big deal. We hiked the mountain, I only fell once, while the two older gentlemen managed to stay on their feet. 

One the way down, we shook hands with many Parliament members and other people my new friend knew, always making sure to take off my glove before shaking hands. I'm pretty sure it is a respect thing, but I saw everyone else doing it, so I caved to peer pressure. 

 Not long after that, Steven phoned me again to ask if I was free to go to the National teams practice. It only took a few times of rescheduling and shuffling plans around for a time to work out mutually. The Mongolian National team works out at 4, and the earliest I can make it into the city is 5, if I'm hustling. He introduced me to the coach and a few of the wrestlers. 

Sain baina uu?'s for everyone. 

I was able to work out with another group coming in at 6. Steve and his friends had to leave, but they made sure the coach (that didn't speak english) knew I was there and needed help finding a partner.

Steve was quick to tell me before he left  "Well you'll know what he think's of you if he pairs you with one of the girls." Sadly, some of the girls looked like they could kick my ass if I didn't out weigh them by so much. 

Instead I was paired with a solid guy, a few cm taller and maybe 5-10 kilos heavier. It felt good to wrestle again. I didn't really know what was being shown, but I just followed along, and had the guy show me first. A few times I would look confused and point, and he was quick to correct my hand placement, or my footwork. 

Since, I've been 4-5 more times, usually working out with the big guy, once pairing with a guy just a bit smaller. He quickly tired me out, and I was back with the big guy for the rest of technique. 

The last practice we worked on top and bottom wrestling, something I was usually fairly good at in high school and college. Except that was folkstyle, and these guys wrestled freestyle. For any non-wrestlers reading this, instead of the bottom guy trying to get up and get away, his goal is to lie perfectly flat and not get turned over. 

I was on top, trying to work legs in, get arm bars, etc. Nothing was working, so I thought why not go for an assassin. 

This is ultimately what ends up happening. 

It worked and for the next 20 minutes I showed them how to choke each other out. I'd do it to one of them, they'd tap, then grab an unsuspecting victim, and try it on them. 

Outside of wrestling, Steve had a friend coming to Ulaanbaatar from the countryside. His friend's brother and friend were also coming to visit. He arranged a trip to Hustai National park. 

2 hours into the countryside we arrived. Our driver took us into the park, and stopped. He had spotted some elk. It took us awhile before we saw them. We were just heading up to get closer, when he heralded us to head the other direction. 

He had spotted some Przewalski horse. He were able to sneak up on them to get some decent pictures. 

These horses are believed to be some of the oldest horses with it's ancestry in debate on where it relates to your usual horse. It went extinct in the wild in the 60's. They were later reintroduced into Mongolia from zoo stock, and seem to be doing alright now. 

We followed these animals around for awhile, and decided we couldn't come to the park without climbing a mountain. When debating which one to ascend, I facetiously mentioned we should climb that tall one a ways off with the weird white thing on top. Of course they agreed. 

So we set off to climb this peak, and took the absolute worst route possible. Hindsight is 20/20, no doubt. It was up and down, and back up, then you think you can follow the ridge to the top, but nope. It drops down again, and then you have to climb back up.
We did rise over a small ridge and catch of few of the horses unaware. 

He didn't seem to mind us too much. We got to the top, snapped a few more pics of the weird white thing, and took the easy way down. 

We saw this guy on our way out.

So far, things have been working out really well in Mongolia. Since my last post I've gotten involved in wrestling, been hiking, met new friends, started writing a novel, changed my class to be a video game, and have thoroughly enjoyed myself. Looking back, I'm glad I chose to go with the SMSU shirt instead of fighting dragons.  

Television excursion

Dan asks me if I'd help him get a tv. He's got his eye on a sleek 42 inch LG plasma television. All I had to do was help lug this wonderful technology to the corner: It's only 50 feet, wait 15 meters. Damn the american system anyway. It's well worth it to watch NFL games all fall. Hey, a tv would look good in my apartment too. Let's kill two birds with this stone. We didn't realize how weird the stone would be.
First we get to the shop, escalate our way past the toys and makeup to our destination. Picking out the perfect combination of size, quality, and price didn't take long at all. That was the last easy part.
We waited for what seemed an eternity until a gentleman made himself visible and offered to help. He wrote down the two screens we wanted. And immediately another customer approached us. Her English was sub par as she held up a card. "It's fine," was the only response we could get out of her as to why she kept following us around the store. The gentleman returned and gave us a small slip to take to the other side of the store. Again card-woman followed us. We hand the slip to another employee. She deciphers the message while Dan confronts the card-holding stalker. It appeared she wanted to use her card on our purchase. As I stared straight ahead at the counter, Dan verbally informed the woman of our disinterest in her assistance. She mulled around, either confused by the resounding no, or waiting for us to change our minds. Eventually she scurried off.
At this point, the teller had fulled deciphered the chicken scratch and led us back to our original waiting point. As we tried to communicate how two separate people were paying for two separate tvs with two separate cards, a very kind older man approached us. He acted as a sort of translator and assistant to our adventure. We asked about our stalker, how had positioned herself within eyesight, ever watching us. He confirmed our conclusion that she was crazy and we didn't want her help. After we had paid, the tellers gave us 4-5 different receipts. Luckily we had our English side-kick, to inform us of each of their meanings. One was simply just that, a receipt, another was a copy of that receipt. A white one apparently was our one year warranty. The last yellow one was our television, sort of.
We had to take our yellow slip down to the first floor, around the corner to a booth that appeared to be straight out of a small town carnival game. As we had the man our slip, he also requires our white one. But only mine. He retreats down a small hole in the floor, and lowers an elevator out of sight. We can't see him, nor can we hear him over the roar of the television on the counter. It appears to be large men dressed as space babies putting on a play. By the cued laughter, we came to the conclusion that it was supposed to be funny. The roar of the elevator starts, and it creeps upward into sight. Side by side are two oblong boxes awaiting to be opened and discarded for the treasure inside. The man was kind enough to open them for us to show that they were indeed television sets. Dan's prize works wonderfully. It is loaded back into the treasure chest of a box. It was almost if he simultaneously cut the power to the entire store as he cut the tape from my box. It was worth the wait to make sure my product was in working order.
The man pointed out the carrying handles as we struggled to understand how we were to carry our precious purchases. The boxes made it safely out to the door, before mine had to be set down to get a better grip. Yellow-ticket-taker-man appears from nowhere and gives us a hand across the street where we wait for a taxi. As we stand with our arm outstretched, land rovers and sedans drive by, each with plenty of room for us and more importantly our stuff. Each drove past, until a small car pulled up with a smiling driver agreeing to take us to Zaisan. The seats had to be adjusted, the boxes twisted and turned, and with knees in my chest, we fit everything into the car. As we got closer to home, the feeling in my feet crept away. The lack of feeling worked its way up to my knees, snuggled tightly into the dashboard. After we pulled in the gate and agreed on a fare, our task was finally complete. Even though I didn't help carry the television as was initially asked of me, Dan and I had successfully killed two birds with one interesting and at times awkward stone.

Rich Humble, I'm neither

Rich and I first met in Hong Kong airport. We were two of 3 American people flying from China to Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. The odds were good we were heading to the same school. The third happened to be heading to ASU as well. Rich and I started talking about various science topics, and ideas we have for fun units and projects to do with the students. Between labored breaths, he would cough out more and more about himself. The conversation quickly diverted from science to Rich's road to entering the teaching profession. His thoughts seemed very scattered and I didn't know what to expect next. He informed me that after experimenting with drugs in his youth, he realized he had better drop it and do something with his life. He said, "If it wasn't the drugs holding me back, then I was screwed." Soon the flight began to board and I was rid of this rollercoaster ride of information that was this strangers life. Little did I know the impact this strange man would have on my in the weeks to come. 

We boarded the plane, and I was relieved to find that I was sitting a few rows away. I had been awake all night in the Hong Kong airport and was desperately looking forward to my nap. I knew if I was too close, I would be bombarded with stories in random order. Once we landed, we all hopped in the van to bounce our way down the dirt road leading into the capitol. The anecdotes continued. I don't remember what was said, I only remember thinking to myself, What in the world goes through this guys head? Why does he have to be in the science department? Can't we just be there yet? I wanted nothing to do with Rich at the time. I wasn't mentally ready to handle what I perceived as a scatterbrained old man that seemed constantly short of breath. 

Upon the first few days here, Rich would be around randomly. He had a strange sense of humor. I watched him attempt to tell someone a joke, realize they were in a conversation, wait about 3-4 minutes, just to tell them that "Hey we're twins!" because on their name tag it was mistyped to say they were both principals. Everyone's name tag said they were the principal. One day we went to catch the bus into town. He fell rather far behind. The walk had proved too much for him and he turned back. I found myself somewhat relieved that he wasn't coming. He had been telling me that we should meet up to work out what we want to do with the science program. A proposition that I wasn't overly looking forward to. Not that he wasn't extremely nice, I just had no clue how to respond to him. I felt uncomfortable talking to him. I felt as if I couldn't relate. 

Not too long into the first week of preparing for school, Rich disappeared. He wasn't at meetings, he wasn't around the apartment complex. It came to be known that he was in the hospital. After a few days, we found out that he was alright, but wouldn't be teaching here. He was in there through the weekend and I didn't see him until the first day of student contact. I politely asked him how he was doing. He mentioned it could be better, and said that he had something he wanted to give me. I had no idea what to expect. I never did with Rich. We decided to meet up around 7. I showed up to his room, meeting another staff member already hanging out with Rich. Originally, I didn't plan on staying there very long at all. He handed me about 25-30 CDs worth of teaching resources and videos. Upon talking to him, he also gave me a bath towel (unused) and his cell phone that he couldn't figure out. Like I said, random. I didn't know what to say. I was very appreciative. It was the least I could do to sit down and have a drink with him and Grant. As I sat there, we began to chat about anything and everything. This is when my perception of Rich began to change rapidly and often. 

Rich had a pretty rough go at life. His first wife had died, 6 month after he had found out she was an alcoholic. He remarried. She took everything. He fell into depression, and developed OCD. During this time, he invested his entire retirement fund into precious gem stones. Soon there after he realized the error in his ways, as gem stones don't hold much consistent value. He was broke, had nothing. The U-haul was packed and he went to a friends place, waiting on the porch for his friend to come home. When he arrived, he questioned Rich as to why he was in Wisconsin. Rich didn't know. He was in a rough patch, unimaginable to me, an invincible 25 year old with the world ahead of me. His friend lent him as much as he could, and Rich made it back onto his feet. He began teaching again, and has been in a few different countries. While in Asia, he did what I assume most older divorced/widowed men do, and he found a younger wife. He described it to work very well as it felt like more of a business arrangement than a relationship. He really painted a picture of himself with his stories about his time spent in Asia. 

While Grant and I were talking to him, I started to realize just how much Rich needed us to talk to. He did overshare quite a bit with us, but I imagine it was as if the floodgates opened and everything came pouring out. Regret swept over me for judging Rich so harshly upon first meeting him. He seemed like a guy that would have been very enjoyable to be around once you got a handle on his quirkiness. He had a fun sense of humor, and enjoyed to laugh. Who's to say anyone wouldn't be similarly unique if they had the same life experiences. Internally, I beat myself up a little after that conversation. I've seen myself as a very personable individual, able to talk to most people and be friendly. Yet, I pushed this man away undeservingly, because I was unconsciously too cool. 

The story continues the following night when Rich organized a large get together/pot luck. He made some soup with his left over groceries. He didn't need them as he would be leaving Mongolia soon. So many people showed up, and it was a really great social event for everyone. As the night went on, people started to dwindle away. It was about 9 when there were only 8 or so of us left. Rich had retired to his room, only to return carrying two small boxes. He referenced a book in which it mentions that people come into each others lives for a reason. And even though the time he had been here was short, we had all come together to impact each others lives. The boxes came out, and he mentioned he wanted to give each of us a gem stone from his personal collection. All of us sat in silence as he searched through these tiny boxes, squinting and searching for the perfect one. Each stone had a special significance or meaning. He shared with us why he chose each of the stones for us specifically. When it came to me, he pulled out a smoky quartz. He mentioned it was known for its masculinity, and he thought this was a very fitting stone for a fine young man. My mind was completely blank as I accepted this gift and muttered "Thank you." As he went on with everyone else, I fought back tears as I thought of how rude I had been with my thoughts towards this extremely generous man that I had only known for 2 weeks. After he finished handing out the last stone, he retired for the evening. We all showed each other the stone that he had chosen for us. No one really knowing what to think. 

As I left for my room, my mind was racing. I didn't know what to think. Here I had been avoiding this man for two weeks when all he had wanted to do was share ideas, chat about life, and share with me his experiences. I felt ashamed of myself for treating him so poorly, and also thankful that I did get to actually know him before he left Mongolia. I can't say with any merit that I would be half as kind or generous as Rich, had I gone through a fraction of what he had. While a smoky quartz stands for masculinity, the stone I have also stands as a reminder for what it means to be a man. It is a reminder to be a better person, to get to know people before I distance myself, and to be thankful for what I do have. 

With that, I wish to thank you Rich Humble. I hope that I did not share too much about you without your knowing, but thanks again for what you've given me. Sadly, I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you. 

My first days of school

The school year is officially underway. I've survived my first week, and as my peers were keen to point out, only 176 days left. The first week seemed to simultaneously streak past yet last almost as long as it takes to get into the city during rush hour. During the first day, I wrote on the board "Mr. CD Johnson." I introduced myself as such. My day is now plagued with a multitude of "Good morning Mr. CD Johnson" and "Have a good night Mr. CD Johnson." With each Mr. CD Johnson it sound more and more awkwardly formal, that it has become very difficult to refrain from replying with a sarcastic "Good morning to you Ms. Delgerchimeg Esonmunhk." To my friends teaching in the states, that is actually the names of one of my students (kind of: I'm not sure about privacy laws here in Mongolia, so it is one student's first name and another's last, but you get the point) Just sound it out. Not to pat myself on the back, but I've committed all of their names to memory. The real test though will come tomorrow morning after a weekend away from them. 

It is incredible how well behaved and polite the students are here. I take no credit for that. They are a group of amazing kids. Don't get me wrong, they are still middle school students and can get a little squirrelly. It seems as if most of them are interested in challenging themselves and actually learning science, which is a pleasant surprise from what I'm used to with students taking their education for granted. Even though most are engaged and willing to learn, there are a couple that jump to my mind that will give me the challenge to find what sparks their interests. 

One of the students in my class caused me to have an it's-a-small-world-after-all moment. When describing where I was from, I mentioned I was from Michigan. Sitting infront of me was a student that is originally from Big Rapids, Michigan only 20-30 minutes from where I grew up. After flying halfway around the world, there is someone familiar with the small town of LeRoy, Michigan. It's a small world after all. 

Not only have the students here been great, but it has been really nice to get to know the staff as well. Here is the quick version describing some of them that I've gotten to know. Dan is the guy I will watch NFL games with the day after, and probably hockey too; he's from Canada. David has coined himself as my dad. It mostly consists of him calling me son, and me watching his bag and coat. I've got a great workout partner in Keith. Liz is one kick-ass partner in the science department. Riann is always there to catch me if I fall. I actually did fall on him. Sorry about your knee Riann. Lianne is such a motivator, telling me how great my stories can be. Laura is the neighbor that I'm going to slowly see how loud I can be before she tells me to quiet down. There are so many more I could mention, but sadly my laundry is done, and this blog is getting long enough. 

A realization did hit me today. When I was mentally preparing for my trip to Mongolia, I had many dreams as well as apprehensions. In all of those day dreams never once did I envision doing dishes, laundry, or cleaning of any sort. Cleaning in Mongolia is no more enjoyable than it was in the states. Unless I get a cleaner...

First few days, and flights here

Flying half way around the world is no quick task. My short flight to Chicago was fairly quick and left me very optimistic. A pilot sat in the seat next to me, and he used up my entire pre-planned nap time with his great stories of when he traveled the world. Keith, the pilot, was gracious enough to point out all of the mistakes the new pilot was making on our flight. The rookie redeemed himself by making a very smooth landing. The flight from Chicago to Hong Kong was no where near as short. The 15 hour flight did seem to go rather quickly, due to me sleeping for 10 of it. Once I was in Hong Kong, I didn't have enough money to spring for a hotel or even sit in a lounge, so I explored the airport. It seemed more like a shopping mall than an airport. Luckily, there was a 7-11 open all night. I was able to get a few familiar snacks. Later in the night after a bag of M&Ms and an energy drink, I got a little more courageous with my snack choices. My flight from Hong Kong to Ulaanbaatar was only 4 hours, but after an all-nighter in Hong Kong, I was more than ready to sleep for the 4 hours.

Once we got to the airport, I met up with a few of the other teachers in the school. We took a small dirt road back from the airport into the city. Driving seemed to be controlled chaos. Drivers use their horns all the time, and what appears to be a 2 lane road, is scarily made into a four lane. Upon arriving at the school, I got my apartment. Small but perfect sized for one person. Some of the veteran teachers took us new teachers out for dinner and a couple drinks. The second day was more of an adventure. We again went out as a group, adding a few to our ranks. We visited various shops and stores. We were hooked up with cell phones. After awhile, a few of us split from the main group. This was a great choice as it allowed us to move at a quicker pace, and see a few places. The smaller group also allowed us to visit some of the local places and have our own adventure. Sunday comprised of wandering around town, looking at all of the shops and stores we hadn't visited the day before. After dinner at a small Korean place, the two of us walked 5 km back to the school.

Today was my first day in the school. Just like in the states, the first week is filled with orientation, meetings, and prepping your room. There are a few differences. They are taking a group into the city to go shopping. Another guy and I opted out and instead are going on our own. It saves on waiting for 10-20 people to go through all of the stores we've already looked through. It is very interesting getting back and forth between the school and downtown. There aren't too many real taxi's in UB. Instead you stand on the street and hold your arm out and someone will just pull over and give you a ride. It's hitch hiking at its finest. It's all very unique and interesting at first. I'm sure with time, I will get more accustomed to the differences. For now, I'm just enjoying the sun while it lasts.

227 hours until take off

So why Mongolia? This has been the first inquiry among those that hear about my plans to teach in Mongolia over the next two years. This often leads into conversations informing them the food is actually nothing like the Mongolian Grill. This is quite unfortunate. How I love the Mongolian Grill.

Genghis Khan is often brought up with the history buffs. The story has amazed me since I was young. I can remember sitting for hours reading a National Geographic outlining his conquest. He united the nomadic, squabbling tribes into one giant horse-riding, arrow-shooting killing force. To quote Badass of the Week, "Then he figured, "S**t, while I have all these soldiers here, I might as well kick the a** of everyone else in the known world".  So he set about doing just that." It is believed that over 5% of the worlds population can trace ancestry back to Genghis Khan. His death was kept a secret due to the concern that his enemies would see this as a weakness, and then attack. His burial site is still unknown, and shrouded with mystery.

While I can't be certain what it was like to amass an army and demolish half the world, I imagine the Great Leader felt a similar apprehension in preparing to leave his home, just as I am now. I leave in 9 days. Soon it will be a week, and before I know it, I will be looking down at the shrinking mass known as the western world. I look across the living room at the unpacked suitcases, that I will need to fill with the belongings for the next two years. My nerves haven't been bad at all, as it was always too far in the future to hold any real concern. When I received the work visa, it suddenly became very real. I'm really doing this. I'm really leaving everyone I know behind, to travel almost exactly half way around the world. 

I am excited to meet new people, not only from Mongolia, but from the various places the other teachers and staff hail from. The rest of the world is out there for me to experience. Whether I can get all of my traveling and adventure out of my system in two years or if I get addicted to new experiences, is still yet to be decided. I've been asked many times if/when I will be coming back. To answer, I don't know. In 2 years I will come back, whether to stay indefinitely or just for a short time before heading to another corner of the globe.

To the friends, family, and people that I've grown close with, I will miss you, and I hope to share many of my experiences on here as well as Facebook. Check in for pictures and updates from across the world. Skype is always an option, and I would love to see familiar faces. My skype is cdjohnson184 

To the people I will meet, I look forward to your addition to the group of people mentioned above.