Languages I Have Learned—Episode 5: Mongolian (Part II)

My weekly Mongolian helped me go to the market and purchase groceries by asking for bread, fruit, and other items I needed; although my phrases mainly comprised “Hello,” pointing to something and say “That, please,” and “How much?”

I was once told by a Mongolian friend, “You look Mongolian, except when you walk.”

I guessed she meant I kind of blended in—which I took as a good thing.

Because life in Ulaanbaatar was my first time living overseas, I had experienced culture shock on top of my languages learning.

“I missed the honeymoon season,” said my American roommate who shared an apartment flat with me. We both had to agree, the moment we set foot in the country with our individual opportunities (mine being a homeschooling teacher, while my roommate was there to learn the language) we immediately had to swim in the sea of culture shock. It was all or nothing—at least that was how it felt to me. However, I didn’t regret it. I made friends with the locals, and the kindness of my host family and another family I taught helped me with adjusting to my life in Ulaanbaatar.

Some memorable experiences included having a balcony as our walk-in freezer during the winter; discovering that Mongolian tugrik money bills smell like mutton, frequent visits of little roaches (how I hated those guys!), that the electrically powered buses stop in the middle of the only main street in the city and its patrons had to get off and walk (fortunately, most of the places were in walking distance); and tea leaves that were sold in solid blocks (I discovered much later that they had the similar blocks of tea leaves in mainland China). The food was greasy with foods such as fried khuushuurs (deep fried pockets of ground meat and vegetables), pizza with unique toppings (from pickles instead of olives and the occasional shredded carrots), and buuz (mutton dumplings that are fried or steamed). Beverages were undaa (beverages, usually soda, in old-fashioned squat glass bottles) and tsai (salty milk tea, which was a bit of a shock to those who taste it for the first time).

Despite these small delights, Mongolia was still rebuilding from after the Fall of the Iron curtain (this was in the early 2000, by the way). Soon news of Mongolian patriotism came with reclaiming their native writing, though some foreigners bemoaned this news.

“No! Not after all that work learning Cyrillic! And now they want to bring back the Soyombo writing!” I overheard an American foreign worker complain.

The Mongolians derived Soyombo script from Tibetan Sanskrit.

Meanwhile, as I continued with my teaching, my contracted ended at six months. It was a short overseas experience with a long winter that lasted the first four months of my stay. That last two months comprised a brief spring (about a month long) and a taste of summer. With warm weather, bright sun and colours replacing the winter greys, I left the country with a heart full of thankfulness to those who had shown me kindness.