Monitoring and Evaluation Trip to the Northern Villages

Last week, just after our rousing concert, I took off for the countryside with Alta, my manager from UB, Undrah, my counterpart in Bayankhongor, and our driver Chuka. Leslie was at home gearing up to go on the road with her concert when I left. So far it's been almost two weeks since we saw each other and we have one more week to go.

You can see all the pictures with detailed captions here.

During the trip we gave presentations about some new procedural and structural changes that have been made to the business program, marketing, and I talked about project management. By the end, Undrah was doing all the presentations, demonstrating what we in the international development game call "capacity building." He learned from Alta and I, then he was able to do it himself, furthering one of my objectives as a Peace Corps volunteer. We also visited with the banks to make sure micro loans were being paid back, and we met with the local mayors to chat about our progresses.

Alta and I sat with the village mayor. Undrah took the photo.

Outside the classroom and meetings, though, I had the chance to get to know Bayankhongor Province and my counterparts a little better. Not surprisingly, this was the best part of the trip. I saw some absolutely stunning vistas and wildlife scenes, met some real characters, ate less meat than I thought I might, I watched Spring blossom around me, lived on solar power, and saw how to kill an animal. Oh, and I had a blast.

Buddhist monks drew some art for us to enjoy on our long trip.

Yaks!

In this village, trash was dumped just outside of town. Notice the horn sticking out of the burlap sack.

Undrah's niece heads inside for something apparently quite important.

Cell phone companies power their towers with solar panels.

The eagle had landed.








Check out this ger placement!

Statues of horses, yaks, goats, sheep and camels were in almost every village we went to. Animals are obviously an important part of Mongolian countryside life.

Where there's water, there's life. Spring sprang while we were on our trip after some recent rains.

How to Kill an Animal
In case you're not familiar with how to slaughter an animal in Mongolia, here's a step-by-step tutorial. It's actually pretty cool and, I think, humane.











1. Tie up the animal (or have your buds hold it down), then use your trusty knife to make a small incision.

2. Stick your hand inside and find the right artery around the heart. Now pinch that until the animal stops moving.

3. Take your hand out, but leave any clingy guts inside.

4. (not pictured) Skin and gut your little lady. Supper's waiting on you.





Tea Time
If you were wondering how to make tea for guests in your ger, you're in luck. Normally Mongolian's drink milk tea, which is just black tea with a lot of milk cooked in. What's interesting about this time of year is that milk is scarce due to skinny animals who've endured a long winter but don't yet have spring grasses to graze on. The following technique is really only used for black and green tea, not necessarily milk tea.

1. Boil some water and put in loose tea. Mix well.

2. Scoop the tea through a mesh screen into the pot.

3. Pour tea for your thirsty guests.

4. Put the wok away and cover the fire.

Mill Your Own Barley
1. Pour in whole grains into your homemade mill of two flat rocks with a hole in the middle of the top one.

2. Next use a stick to spin the rocks. As they spin, the ground grains fall out the side.



3. Serve with a specially prepared Mongolian yellow fat, water and sugar.


This adroit and pleasant 72 year-old gentleman has been using this technique for 15 years. His parents were farmers, but he took other jobs during the planned economy. When the government changed to the market economy in the early 1990's he used his knowledge to start his own small farm. He has 10 children, 3 of whom are still in college earning degrees in business, computer engineering and accounting, so he said he was working hard to get them through. He is quite strong, but well worn by life.

His plot of land is few acres just outside of town, and he works it all by himself. This year, he's adding another 100 sq. meters or about another third of his field. He's also a motorcycle repairman, among many other things. It was a pleasure to meet him.














It was quite a long trip, but I was happy to learn many new things about life in Bayankhongor's northern villages. To see all the pictures from the trip, please click here.

Our Concert Evening

Friday, May 8, 2009 we put on a show. All proceeds went to the Center for Children with Disabilities.

It all started in February as our good pal Tysen began seriously working up some grad school audition pieces on piano. He wanted to do a recital so he could have a practice benchmark and to show off his stuff. He asked Leslie to sing a few songs, and they set a date.

Then, while we were in UB on other business in March, we ran into Julia Cannon, theater degree holder and performer extraordinaire. She signed on to join us in Bayankhongor as well, singing her own stuff and collaborating with both of us.

A few weeks later, our Peace Corps coordinator came for a site visit and recommended that we call a second-year volunteer, Dwan, who has an extensive dance background. One phone call and Dwan was in and wanted to dance with Nathan.

As the performance date approached and details were arranged, the Mongolians at Leslie’s theater were beginning to make it a much bigger deal than any of us had anticipated at the start. We just wanted a small, fun recital we could be proud of. There were big questions of, “Who will be your producer? You can’t do a program without a producer.” They said, “Who will pick your songs for you and in what order?” and “Who will tell you where to stand and when?” and “Who will print the tickets?” We already had the songs picked out, it was easy enough to decide the order, and where to stand was based mostly on the grand piano placement.

The grand piano. Though the theater proudly boasted having the piano, we found out a few weeks before the concert that it hasn’t been played since glasnost and perestroika were all the rage, and it had presumably seen better days before. The keys on the last quarter of each side didn’t work, it was more out of tune than Florence Foster Jenkins, and it was looking like if we didn’t get it fixed, there wasn’t going to be much of a concert. Tysen rightfully refused to play a classical concert on a cheap Casio and the clangy upright in the practice room wasn’t a better option. After some hemming and hawing over it (including the theater director insisting that Tysen only play in the center if that’s where the keys worked), they called in a “specialist” from UB to put the piano back together again – sort of. Almost all the keys worked, though the tuning left much to be desired.

As the concert week approached, the piano repairman had come in on the preceding Friday, Julia came in on Sunday night, and then Dwan came in on Monday night. By Monday the piano was “fixed” and it was looking like we might just pull this thing off. Dwan and Nathan began blocking their dance, working with the dance teacher at Leslie’s children’s theater. Tysen began putting the final touches on his pieces and learned much of the accompaniments for the ladies, and the ladies worked the kinks out of their songs. At some point, Tysen, Julia, Leslie and Dwan sat for an interview with the local TV with Leslie’s theater and children’s center counterparts to promote the event, which aired that week.

By Thursday, the pre-order tickets, which were to be sold to businesses as the producer’s big idea for securing attendance, finally came in from UB effectively killing the “pre” portion of the pre-selling concept. That meant we weren’t sure if anyone would show up at this point because there was no sign, almost no promotion, and the only real word we had around town was from us and one TV news story.

Finally by Friday, hours of rehearsals during the week and frayed nerves later, which included a rousing dry run that made us all a little nervous about the lighting and sound, not to mention a problem that left the “E” key (two below middle C) ringing every time the sustain peddle was depressed, the show was to go on. One carpenter and a host of last-minute onlookers and well-wishers later made the last few minutes eventful, nonetheless.

Earlier in the week, our friend and English teacher, Bayarmaa, translated a summary of each vocal piece into Mongolian. She stood on one side announcing in English and Leslie’s young theater counterpart, Baagi, stood on the other, announcing in Mongolian.


Tysen started with a two-part Beethoven sonata (Sonata in E Major, Op. 101 movements I & II). After he stopped between the movements, the announcers came out and began announcing his next piece, causing him to craftily scrap the second Beethoven movement. He went on to expertly work his way up and down the keyboard, often eliciting “ooos” and “aahs” from the crowd as he played Bach (Prelude and Fugue in C Minor, BWV 84), Chopin (Ballade, Op. 38) and Glass (Wichita Vortex Sutra).

Then Julia and Leslie alternated intermittently, performing some really great musical theater and foreign language numbers. Because the theater sound guy is so bad (the mics are always, always wildly screeching out feedback and are turned up too loudly with a tin-can sound), that both opted to sing without mics, which balanced well with the piano. They each nailed their performances with energy and flair while Nathan turned pages for Tysen.

Julia sang:
“Show Me” from My Fair Lady
“This Place is Mine” from Phantom of the Opera
"How Could I Ever Know" from Secret Garden
“All the Same” from Man of La Mancha

Leslie sang:
“Se Florindo è fedele” by Alessandro Scarlatti
“Nel cor piu non mi sento” by Giovanni Paisiello
“What Good Would the Moon Be?” from Street Scene
“Les berceaux” by Gabriel Faure

Together, they sang “By My Side” from Godspell.

After the piano was pushed off stage, Nathan and Dwan danced their ballet number to Mozart’s Klavierkonzerte Nr. 20 (II. Romance). Dwan played a doll and Nathan played the doll maker. Here is the synopsis of the 10 minute dance:

Scene 1: The Doll Maker
The story began with Nathan at a workbench while the doll he was building sat awkwardly in a chair on the other side of the stage. He walked around his doll with a sketch pad and pen, made improvements, and tested the working order. He mimed drawing in eayes and a smile.

He decided the last touch should be to wind up the doll and let it move freely, but the doll moved rigidly and eventually fell. Nathan reset the doll, tested the moving parts, looked at his watch and left stage.

Part II. Magic Dust Brings Life
As the music changed, magic dust (confetti thrown from the curtains) entered the workshop and caused doll to sneeze, and then poof, the doll became filled with life. She jumped up and became aware of her body parts and began to move with limited range. As the music changed, confidence built and she danced freely with joy and excitement!




Part III. Discovery of A Life Created
The doll maker arrived the next morning concentrating on how he might improve on his mechanical creation. The doll was still dancing with excitement but hid as Nathan’s back was turned to her. Nathan finally noticed the doll missing (from a musical cue) and then frantically searched until he found her behind the chair. He reached for the animated doll and they danced together. She gleefully showed off her new moves and the they ended in a joyful pose as the music wound down.




During the middle of the third act, about 7 minutes into the 10 minute routine, it began to rain on the front of the stage in one long, heavy stream. Luckily it turned out that if the announcers hadn’t cut off Tysen’s second movement in the Beethoven piece, Leslie would have been on stage singing her Faure number as the open grand piano turned into a kiddie pool. Crisis was coincidentally averted and all were counting their hindsight lucky stars.



The final number was a resounding success as the two of us sang “Hairlan Duumaar Baina” (our now routine love song) with Julia. The only hitch was the electricity kept cutting out, so the accompaniment hiccuped a few times and the microphones kept cutting out. Nonetheless, it was the decided crowd pleaser of the evening.






Though it was raining and snowing outside, and the concert wasn’t promoted much, we were amazed that the house was full with around 400 audience members. It was made up of our Mongolian friends and counterparts, but mostly it contained people under the age of 12, which was exciting at first. The problem was, we had prepared a program for businesspeople who were going to buy pre-sold tickets to a classical concert. As you might notice by the selections, we didn’t have a lot to keep the attention of anyone who might have been born after we graduated high school, with exceptions of the dance and the Mongolian number.

In fact, during nearly the entire concert, children and adults were talking at normal levels (not even whispers), one kid toward the middle back started listening to other music on his cell phone (boombox style), and people were taking phone calls like they were waiting in line at a mall food court. To say it was a tough crowd would be an understatement. It reminded us of the cheap movie theater we would sometimes go to near the bus station in Philadelphia or one of those clubs with the metal cages the Blues Brothers played in the movie. If David Letterman had been there, he would have been tugging at his collar with a grimace. When we talked to a Mongolian English teacher about how rude we thought it was, she just laughed and said that’s how Mongolians are. Just then we realized why every concert we’d been to had the microphones and accompaniment turned up to full blast. It occurred to us that maybe they just want to drown out the crowd noise. Either way, we all earned the evening.

Once the bows were finished, instead of the curtain coming back down, there was an anticlimactic moment for us Americans that seemed to be the Mongolians' entire reason for the concert. In Mongolian style, there was a long, gracious presentation of gifts and flowers and commemorating certificates issued to each one of the volunteers who performed. Speeches of congratulations and appreciation were delivered by the Mongolians who helped us plan and execute the performance, and we all posed for pictures.

Afterward we all went out to dinner and recalled the triumphs and difficulties of our first concert in Mongolia. May 8, 2009.

English Olympics

One way the school system in Mongolia motivates students and teachers to work on their specialized fields is through big-time competitions they refer to as “Olympics.” There are all sorts including physics, math, Russian, and among others, English. Including Leila in a nearby village, there are six volunteers in Bayankhongor, and since we all speak English pretty well, we were the official judges.

English Olympics might conjure up thoughts of a gymnastic language contest in front of a captivated, cheering audience like a spelling bee, but in reality it’s a cerebral, intense, quiet, mostly written examination. There are different sections of the written test including fill-in-the-blanks listening, multiple choice vocabulary, open-ended questions, and reading comprehension. Afterward, students sit before the judges for a speaking test that involves direct and open-ended questions like tell me about your family or compare and contrast five given pictures.

Here are some examples from the 10th grade written test:

• When I was younger I _(used to)__ swim in the river.
  
  
• I have had this book since ___________.
  a. one year b. three months
  c. April d. now
  
  
• What are you going to do this summer?
  _______________________________________________________________________

The events reminded us of solo and ensemble, and regional to state choir and band competitions for music students in the States. In those, students sit before a panel of judges and play or sing prepared pieces of music alone or with a group, which they are subsequently assigned a score for. Parents and other competitors usually are allowed sit in the room and watch at least portions of the events. In Mongolia, it was interesting: of the hundreds of competitors, we never saw a parent or spouse. Here, it seems, teachers teach, students learn, and that's the end of it. Usually spouses are not invited to work events (we're an exception) either. Family and work or school are completely separated.

Our first experience with the language-off season came a few weekends ago. Friday was an event at our friend Tysen’s business school among his teachers. It wasn’t the most polished group of competitors, and it seemed as though almost no one took it very seriously. Much like their students’ competition a few weeks later, the teachers were able to prepare written remarks ahead of time, but almost no one really did more than a few minutes in advance. As a result, the competitions dragged on a little and were sometimes ruled by flush-faced awkward silences. Even still, those who chose to compete bravely performed through charades and a Jeopardy-like answer and question game.

Sometimes, waiting until the last minute to do things yields a team name like, "We Wish Raining."

For our continued support in judging competitions, the business school had a cake made for us with the "Thank You" in English. It was totally unnecessary, though completely welcomed.


Our second round of competitions was the next day and involved sanctioned tests for 9th graders, 11th graders and the teachers. Winners from this round will go on to Ulaanbaatar (the capital) next week to compete nationally. Each of our three high schools and those in some nearby villages had vetted and registered their best candidates for the two hours of writing and 15-20 minute verbal interviews, which we Americans exclusively administered. There were a few real stand-out students and some unexpected results from the teachers. The latter created a bit of a fall out with one teacher who was perhaps the favorite to win. Though his written scores were far above the field, his verbal scores were nearly the lowest. Apparently he talked a lot and eloquently, but he failed to answer the questions, perhaps expecting a “gimme” from the volunteer judge. Instead, the teacher disappointedly accepted the bronze medal, and for the next few days he verbally and via text message accosted the judge. Thankfully, the sour-grapes teacher won the Russian Olympics the next day, putting him in a better mood. After the dust settled a few days later, he humbly apologized and we’ve all tried to move on. Obviously, he was among the competitors who really took the Olympics seriously.
































From the competition, Nathan has asked two graduating 11th graders (Mongolia goes to 11) to collaborate with him on a project he’s working on to build their resumes for college. The project will aim to reclaim a dust bowl portion of the countryside left gutted my illegal mining activity. As that project develops, we look forward to telling you more about it.

The next day was a genuine joy to administer. It involved 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, and 10th graders, many of whom speak English better than their teachers. On this day, we only verbally interviewed the top five scorers on the written test, as opposed to needlessly interviewing everyone as we were required to do for the sanctioned test. Nearly every student we talked to was composed and confident resulting in some fun and interesting interviews. Though this round of tests won’t send anyone on to compete at nationals, it introduced some exceptional students to us, who have subsequently asked for private tutoring.

Students wait for and receive medals for their efforts. Noticeably missing from the competition for us were parents.

Leslie has been successfully holding English Movie Night every Friday at 6 pm. Only 2 students showed up the day before the English Olympics because their teachers said they needed to study for the next day’s event. The ones who did show up were two of the gold medalists.

Next week, our 11th grader pal, Bilegt, will be showing his skills in UB. We’ve been working hard on phrasal verbs, how to write an essay, and verbal test techniques. We have our fingers crossed for him!

All and all our 11th month in Mongolia was an interesting one, and we kept very busy working on plenty of work and community projects. May will be our 12th of 27 months.

Whiffleball in Full Swing

Though there's been some wicked wind storms ripping through Bayankhongor the last two days, (resulting in 1 of our 2 our back doors being ripped open, which broke the glass and has allowed nearly unfettered entrance for sand and dust), last weekend I played wiffleball with two other Bayankhongor volunteers and the Gold Medalist in the English Olympics and Silver Medalist in Russian Olympics.

We played for about 2 hours using a good ol', made-in-America, Whiffle ball and an sawed-down old shovel handle with a pronounced banana-like curve in the center. Because it was only 2-on-2, we played with kickball rules, which allow for a fielder to tag out a runner by throwing the ball at him. We also played with only two outs, and there we no walks. In other words, it was a lot like American League Baseball.

Because the field is very dusty and sandy, it was difficult to drag a single into a double or longer and the wind was knocking down anything with loft making it hard to catch. Consequently, it was a lot more fun to be on offense than defense. That didn't stop the fielders from also having some good laughs.






This is third weekend in a row where we played, but this is the first time we had our expert photographer, Leslie to capture all the action as it unfolded. It was a crisp and chilly but sunny Spring day with an often stiff breeze. It was the perfect day.








We had a blast and though it was competitive, we were all happy to play. Our friend, Bilegt, the English phenom, is going to UB next week to compete in the national English Olympics. We wish him luck and hope he can find some time to play again this weekend.
















To check out all the photos, click here.

Spring is here! Kind of!

This post is for you, Uncle Alan.

"The weather in Mongolia is always changing: some days you can experience all four seasons."

-Traditional Mongolian Proverb

The last few weeks, the weather has been awesome. It snowed about 10 days ago, but it quickly warmed in the late afternoon to temps high enough for a light jacket. Routinely since then, the it's been in the 30's at night and in the 60s-70sF during the days. Consequently, we've put away the long underwear for the season and have now embraced Spring. However, Spring, while it does include mild summer temperatures, also includes mild winter temps as well. This Friday is the last day the city heating plants will be running heat, but it's only 55F in our apartment, so I think they gave up a little early.

It's 55F in our apartment, but the smokestack shows no sign of life.

Leslie's curled in a sleeping bag sarcophagus on a chilly morning.

So you can keep up on all the latest weather in beautiful Bayankhongor, we've added a widget to the left side panel or our blog. Check it out.

Bayanhongor Weather

Bayanhongor Time

Spring = Dust Storms
In all seasons in Bayankhongor, we've noticed that it is windy. But with Spring in Mongolia comes dust storms without warning. We went for a pleasant Easter hike down to the river with one of my counterparts Sunday. We lazily ate jelly beans and chocolate (courtesy of our benevolent site mate Tysen), and shared bread, peanut butter, pickle salads and huushuur. It was a good thing we left when we did, though, because in rolled a storm worthy of a name.

As we walked back toward the city, we could see it enveloped by the flying dirt and debris. Our faces were pelted with small rocks and the whirring wind was so loud in our ears, we could barely hear each other speak. The more we walked, the more intense it became.

And just as suddenly as it had appeared, the clouds of sand and whirling trash came to rest back down to the ground, merely rustling as the wind continued to quietly blow around us.

The Sky is Gray
Since Spring has rolled around, the sky has been noticeably gray and gloomy, but the sun is coming up much earlier now. At Tsagaan Sar in late February, the sun came up at around 8:30 and during January it wasn't up before 9 o'clock. Now in mid-March, it's pleasantly up before 7am and doesn't go down until almost 8pm. This is a good feeling as we climb out of the winter blues.

Spring has been a little gloomy so far, but more people are out and about as the weather eases from the below zeros to the triple-digit summer heat.

A child walks to school next to our building on a gray morning. The metal thing on stilts is where we burn our trash. This is also the field where we've been playing whiffle ball recently.

Construction
Spring is also the time for construction to begin, so of course, they're putting a third floor on our apartment building. It's been a bit noisy as they've been welding and knocking down wood walls to brick up the full loft above us. It will be a welcome addition come next winter. There was no insulation up there, just a slat wood floor, so the heat from our place bled right out.


Our landlord has begun adding a third story to our building. Here they've welded the frame for the next flight of stairs.

As you can tell, construction in Mongolia is a non-specific art. We're not sure what's level here on the new support beams. Try coming up those stairs with no light in the stairwell. We didn't know we'd miss American building codes so much.

Care Packages
Thanks to the Reeders, Michelle and Cindy, and Leslie's parents for awesome care packages full of leisure and travel books, socks, macaroni and cheese, bagged/canned salmon and tuna and chicken, fruits, dry soup and dry soup makings, nuts, peanut butter and all the fun personal notes. We really appreciate it!

And a big thanks to Julie and all the folks at Easter Seals of SE Pennsylvania for sending a box chock full of instruments for the center for children with disabilities. They are quickly being put to use. We can't wait to show you some pictures. (The peanut butter and Mama Mia DVD were awesome surprises too.)