Stepping out into a realm where most of what you know is no longer relevant helps you see everything from a different angle. I have found areas I thought I could not change are changed in a moment, where things I assumed I would adapt to seem immobilized. My first day here, when I had my bucket toilet but no privacy screen, I was able to adapt their social norm around basic bodily functions. There I was, a normally modest person who prefers to take care of this aspect of life in my own bathroom, sitting in a wide-open space in plain view of other people (far enough away to blur the details). Pants down, sitting on a bucket, body working fine because I told it I was in my own bathroom. I was able to understand a cultural norm and apply it quickly to an area I thought was non-negotiable.
Other areas I have had to slowly improve in. I am getting much better, with the daily opportunities to practice, at going with the flow. I have given up trying to understand the plan, and just stay curious about what will happen next. This is after many frustrating days of working hard to understand, then realizing I had it all wrong, then realizing I had part of it right…I was going to town to use the internet. Enhee said we had a ride, so we started walking, and the neighbor waved us off. Car wasn’t working. So we walked to the road to hitchhike in. At one point, she tried to get a guy on a motorcycle to at least take me, but he didn’t want to. We got a ride with a truck, which after about 10 minutes stopped for 15 minutes to talk to a friend. Eventually, we were underway again and made it to town. The internet wasn’t working, so I did another errand. I wandered around trying to find Enhee, and eventually did. We ended up catching a ride in the back of a truck filled to the gills with people and possessions. I handled all of this great, with ease and curiosity. My USA usual “need to know” so I had some sense of control was absent. Then we got home, and I hit one of my edges I think is immobile.
The teenage daughter had prepared lunch in my ger, and had left bits of meat, blood, flour and dough all over my bed. (Note: The bed is the only flat surface in my ger available, and the bedding is put away every morning, so the mess was not on my bedding, just on the wool blanket I put my bedding on top of.) I had been telling myself how great it would be to get back and rest in my ger, which I had just cleaned in the morning before we left. So when I came back and the floor was a mess, greasy pans and food on my bed, I got really upset. I got my dictionary out and started writing the three sentences that would communicate my irritation. It is hard to write an angry note in a foreign language. By the end of the first sentence I was just annoyed. By the end of the second sentence I was feeling absurd. By the last, I was laughing at the situation. My 10 minute dictionary-aided dissertation read: “You can cook in here, it is fine. But you MUST clean up after. I do not like meat on my bed.” (If I ever teach an Anger Management course, one technique will be to ask that before they speak in anger, they have to translate what they want to say into a foreign language they don’t know.)
It has been a challenge for me here because I think they think of this ger as the shed, and I think of it as the only toehold of ground and reality that is mine in this great foreign swirling Mongolian world. I moved a lot as a kid, and my main coping mechanism was to make a little space that was mine wherever we landed. If I had that, I could deal with all the other changes. Didn’t matter if it was behind a couch, part of a bed and wall… I came thinking I was going to have my own ger. We worked through that. I adjusted to sharing my bed, as long as I still had my part of the bed. They simply don’t think in the same terms, so I have navigated that the best I could. I was glad I didn’t have to call Kelly to translate in this situation. Enhee helped clean things up, and after that when they have prepared food in my ger, they put plastic down on the bed to keep it cleaner. I appreciate these kinds of things to accommodate my silly foreign ways.
Anu sent an email in response to one of my blogs, that she was sorry for my struggles and would try to intervene. I responded that this is all part of what I signed up for, and that the bumps are what make it interesting and a good learning experience. It’s a personal journey through adaptation and culture. The issues that have come up are common on this road, and I knew what I was getting into. Even in moments I am hitting a solid edge and it’s difficult for me, I am grateful for the lessons. It is part of the deep colors in the tapestry I am weaving. I can see important different things about Being from the angles I have here. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
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