Nine Months In

Well, I've survived thus far, folks! It's been nine months, but before I recount all the crazy, exhausting and great times I've had so far, I'd better give you some background information on my new home!

This is Mongolia; the dark red splotch at the bottom is named "Umnugovi" pronounced ooh-m'n-goiv, meaning the South Gobi.

 Peace Corps tells us that stating our exact whereabouts may not always be the smartest option, so for the sake of following good advice, I'll just say that I live in a very small village in Umnugovi. 

In the U.S. we have states, in Mongolia there are "aimags". Americans have state capitals, Mongolians have aimag centers, which are generally the biggest towns. Then there's "soums" which are the districts/counties within an aimag. Each soum has a soum-center, or county seat. Other small towns in the soum are also referred to as "soums". There are also "bags" the smallest administrative unit. The "bags" I've encountered are literally just a few buildings for gatherings or storage. This makes sense as nomadic families are centered around "bags" rather than sedentary ones.  

It's always interesting talking to Mongolians when they ask me where I'm living. Some of them are very surprised or confused as to why I would want to live in a soum, rather than an aimag center. Most Mongolians are more pleasantly surprised though, and want to know how well I'm adjusting. Soum life isn't very easy, especially if you live in a ger (most Americans know this as a yurt). Many people in soums do live in gers, but there are also a few apartments, and plenty of houses. A lot of people have a house and a ger inside their "khashaa" which is a fenced-in yard. Khashaas are generally big enough for two modest sized dwellings, two or three cars and storage space; so yeah, pretty roomy.

 Site Placement

During PST (pre-service training) - our two-and-a-half month training gig - we trainees are interviewed for our skills and preferences pertaining to future sites. However, we are reminded on a regular basis that our preferences hold far less sway than our skill sets and the needs of the communities that apply for volunteers. If you have a very strong preference for one place over another, then you'd better have a good reason for that preference and lay it out clearly and honestly to the interviewers.

I might be a bad example for the "don't make any wishes" front, since I got everything I wanted. I applied directly to Mongolia, and I was sent to Mongolia; I asked to be placed rurally and not in a city, and they underlined that in their notes. I even live in a ger! Trainees don't actually get to choose what kind of dwelling they will live in, though. There is a common trope about Peace Corps volunteers being "earthy" types, and that we romanticize the "traditional" lifestyle of our host country; but after training most of us come to realize what we are personally capable of on a day to day basis, and my own housing preferences became more flexible. In the end, whatever the community is able to provide, and as long as it reaches Peace Corps's standards, is what volunteers get.

During my interview I said I'd enjoyed living in a ger so far, and that a house or apartment would be just as fine, but as soon as I said "I live in a ger with my host family, I don't mind it at all" the interviewer immediately muttered "ger" and underlined the word twice! When they asked what my preferences were geographically, I mentioned that the Gobi was very interesting to me, and that one statement may have sealed my fate. You see, word has it that over the years, many past volunteers who were placed in the Gobi would tell the newer trainees that the Gobi was the worst place to be sent! This apparently affected the new volunteers so that they were all anxious and disappointed when they were themselves sent to the Gobi! I was surprised to hear this, since the Gobi desert is so famous.

Getting your site placement is it's own adventure! Once training is all done and every one (about 55 or so) is together, we're herded into a room with the biggest map I've ever seen in my life! This map clearly shows every aimag, aimag center, and soum. Before even being sworn in (yes, PCVs take an oath of service) we have no idea where we're headed for the next two years! You can almost hear the emotions buzzing. We were eventually told to sit down, and the next thing we knew a name was called and we realized it had begun!

As the parade of red-faced and excited trainees went on, clutching folders of information on their sites, those of us who were still waiting must've been jumping inside! Forget butterflies in the stomach, we were darn near about to metamorphosize ourselves! When they did say my name and where I was going, I jumped off my seat on the floor! I got the Gobi! I got the freaking Gobi! Some people later said I'd looked like the happiest person in the room, and I believe it!