April 22, 2006
My Mongolian lessons seem to have taken a turn into learning how to flirt. Things like, I am beautiful, you are handsome, I love you. I’ve been complaining to my teachers about it saying that its not very useful, but I don’t really have much say in the matter! And who knows, it could come in handy someday.
Basically my lessons take this format:
Daagi says something in Mongolian.
I ask “what does it mean?”
She yells, “SAY IT!”
I refuse, and ask again what it means.
She yells, “JUST SAY IT!”
I say it and everyone laughs because I’ve said something like “I love Bolor (our translator)”, “I am a parrot” whatevs.
Though at lunch she taught me “Shut up stupid” so the lessons might be swinging the other way.
I’ll attatch a picture of my ger mates/teachers, Degi (on the left) and Ankha (on the right).
One of the other girls is learning English and is about the same level I am at Mongolian, which makes dinnertime interesting.
The company here has a policy of hiring locals from the nearby villages for jobs like coresplitting, etc. As motivation for them to work hard they have a policy that if they do a good job they will hire their siblings (which is good for the company too because its hard to recruit from the local villages). But this means that there’s a lot of coresplitters who look a LOT alike, with names that are fairly similar. Though this morning two of them got draft notices, so that will simplify things unless they can get out of it (they think they can).
There’s a wind from Siberia again. Nasty. Damn Siberia. Though there’s a bluish tinge to the skies. Might just be nice tomorrow.
The Kleenex box next to my desk is labeled “Scent of a woman”. I don’t know what that means. I don’t think I want to know… I’m reading a book called Perfume right now, and if anyone else has read it you’d know why I’m suspicious.
Other than that the bosses have gone off on vacation leaving me and another guy in charge. Its kind of nice as things are a lot quieter in the office, and its REALLY nice to have ulghereen baatar (the gnome, my ex-coworker) gone. The translator actually used ulghereen baatar instead of his real name in one of the morning meetings, and all the Mongolians laughed, and none of the ex-pats (but me) could figure out why they were laughing. I filled them in later and they thought it was fitting.