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Thanksgiving and Chinggis Khaan’s Birthday | #67 | November 2022

This holiday double-feature takes us through the collaboration between the Peace Corps, KOICA and JICA, development agencies of the U.S., Korea and Japan, respectively. Following the project, I continue with the next day’s stories, as networks grew and relationships built. We also saw an opera for Chinggis Khaan’s birthday! So that was exciting. From these, we reach the beginning of Advent.

Chinggis Khaan’s Birthday

On Thanksgiving Day, November 24, I joined a group of about a dozen of our Peace Corps Trainees on a trip out of town, to a modern ger camp in Terelj. Our journey began before dawn, in the cold outside the pink Socialist-era Drama Theatre. The temperature was -25°C (-13°F). A bus would collect us from outside the green Grand Irish Pub.

While we waited, we had a chance to warm up inside the office of KOICA (Korea International Cooperation Agency). Their organization had sponsored the mentoring project for youths living in the Chingeltei District of Ulaanbaatar (UB). I recalled having just been in Chingeltei earlier that week for school visits that Monday. The joint project with us Peace Corps Volunteers was to “provide opportunities for cultural exchange with other countries for underprivileged youth, [...] promote KOICA in relation to the resumption of the dispatch of KOICA volunteers in Mongolia and raise positive awareness of volunteer activities.”

The students would have the day off because Mongolia observes Chinggis Khaan’s birthday as a national holiday. It’s been celebrated since 2OI2 according to the lunar calendar on the first day of the first winter month. It typically lands around American Thanksgiving, celebrated on November’s fourth Thursday. That said, they don’t always align.

After the wait, we PCVs hopped aboard the coach bus with KOICA staff for the journey. Along the way, my M3I friend Rowan and I got to talk to KOICA staff, whose roles were equivalent to our American Peace Corps staff. I enjoyed meeting fellow development workers and hearing their perspectives on life in Mongolia from Korea. To my surprise, they had plenty of opportunities to speak Korean because so many Mongols study the language!

Along the ride from the city center, the windows frosted over as they tend to. We used the practice of taking a credit card or ID to the window to scrape aside such frost to see out. After leaving the city, driving east, we eventually descended a large, winding hill past an ovoo and crossed a bridge. I’d often treat this area as the entrance into Terelj, though it wasn’t a formal one.

An International Holiday Venue

We arrived to the Terelj site. After everyone had disembarked, we got a group photo of all the volunteers. Then we ascended the hill and steps to enter a massive ger-shaped building.

The buildling remind me of the dining hall in Chinggisiin Khuree, where my Peace Corps cohort and I had first arrived in Mongolia. In this building though, we PCVs were setting up among folks from many nations. International Volunteer Day was coming up, too, on December 5. KOICA brought in us Peace Corps folks alongside JICA (Japan International Cooperation Agency) to make the day.

A Peace Corps staff member came to help with language facilitation. It was the recent Mongolian instructor of M3O Eric and me, Sumya! Sumya mentioned to us how the cloud-like decorations hanging above us were like those of her childhood in preparation for New Year’s, decorated much like Christmas from the socialist period onward. It was nice to have context behind the light blue and white crafted puffs above us.

Shortly after we arrived, our groups from the U.S., Korea, Japan and Mongolia together received matching grey KOICA hoodies. KOICA always had that drip, I remembered from IST 2OI9. So cool to be part of the action, too! Then I wandered the floor to meet folks and help out. It turns out Eric and I weren’t alone among evacuated returned volunteers, either. An older JICA gentleman was among us!

Day of Service

Before long, the children who’d participate arrived. The table group with which I was paired had a kind JICA nurse, a bubbly KOICA volunteer and half a dozen adorable kids. It turns out that the KOICA in our group was the same eager gal who’d served me hot cocoa shortly after I arrived. It was “No Brand,” the same simple yellow products I saw throughout the huge Emart. Eventually I’d adjust to the fact that Emart is a Korean chain with Korean brands.

I enjoyed how despite just meeting my fellow volunteers, we worked together to bring joy to the kids. At some points, since the JICA volunteer only knew Japanese and Mongolian, she would say something to me in Mongolian that I would then translate to our KOICA volunteer in English. Fun teamwork!

Each delegation had something to present. The JICA volunteers taught us to fold origami sumos then how to make them do battle. After demarcating the ‘ring,’ competitors simply tap their fingers against the surface to cause their combatants to waddle at each other. The fight reminded me of how Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots seem to fight. The KOICA volunteers taught us to make weighted hacky-sacks from paper, stones and rubber bands.

We Americans hosted a little dance party amid our regional presentations, including my bit about the Southwest. The Northeastern presentations reminded me of Boston, the Red Sox and New York, too. We Americans really pumped out the energy! Our colleagues complimented me and my friends for our moves. It was a good vibe!

Around lunchtime, we enjoyed a tasty meal like those of Terelj’s Red Rock Resort, where my fellow PCVs and I had IST 2OI9. Afterward, our groups headed outside into the snow for a photo competition. My co-volunteers were much more creative than me with staging cool squad poses. Nonetheless, I enjoyed our gleeful grins. Our team hadn’t won the prize this year, but we’d won the joy of a good day.

Before the event’s end, students heard motivational life advice from a presenter who walked people through the past decade or so of autobiography and testimonials. I hope the presentation helped kids to see some directions where they could go in life. As for us volunteers, we got to know each other better and resolved to hang out sometime. It was a good day.

I don’t recall much from the bus ride back probably because I was asleep. I needed that. We rode back from Terelj across the bridge, back up the winding hill and surely hours later back into downtown UB. Traffic was as rough as usual, but at least we had each other.

Thanksgiving 2O22

Unlike my last Peace Corps Thanksgiving, during which staff had sent all our sites turkeys, we celebrated in UB this year. That evening, we Peace Corps folks reconvened at the Star’s community center, where we’d celebrated Hallowe’en. Since we were all in UB, staff had generously chosen to throw us a Thanksgiving dinner alongside a committee of Trainees. They gave us good vibes!

We each received cool standing nametags welcoming us to the event and noting where to sit. Those of us from the KOICA event still had our hoodies, easily identifying us. I enjoyed getting to spend more time with the new Trainees since M3O Eric and I had split off to resume our service.

While there wasn’t turkey, the chicken equivalent was great. And my, the pies were wonderful! At the night’s end, Peace Corps staff sent us home with plenty of trays of leftovers. So nice to have salads, too.

Fourth Peace Corps Anniversary

The next day was Black Friday 2O22 and thus marked the fourth anniversary since in 2OI8 when I accepted my invitation to serve in the Peace Corps. Admittedly I hadn’t expected much to occur. I had a meeting scheduled with my local children’s speaking club counterpart, a Mongolian language lesson with my tutor and a sports evening then show afterward. Yet the day had surprises in store!

My counterpart from the children’s speaking club indeed came to visit my office to co-plan our afternoon’s session. When we were walking from the library after that club session, we chatted a bit. At some point she slipped into Mongolian, and we chatted about my trip to Övörhangai. (She was from its neighboring Arhangai.) She also asked if I’d seen “Wakanda.” I felt amused. I felt like she asked me if I’d seen a country. I’m used to calling the film “Black Panther,” though that was indeed “Wakanda Forever.” I saw it, yeah—highly recommend.

Afterward, I headed to my language lesson in the tower west of the Square. Afterward, my tutor Adonis helped me to find where I could get my first UB haircut. (After I’d moved to Erdenet, fall 2OI9, I simply got my cuts done by a community member after my first barber visit.) We’d mentioned the word “paradise,” which I remembered from Sunday translates to “divaajin.” It sounded to me like the word “divine!”

The haircut cost more than my friend foretold, but he helped pick up the difference. Afterward, I continued on from there to visit the nearby Secondary School #21. The department of education was having our sports night. So my friend pointed me in the right direction.

Unexpected

When I reached the school, a young woman who seemed to be the designated door guard asked something like, “Хашаа агаа?” when I approached. I fumbled through some words to explain I came to play sports with my colleagues. I also mimed bumping a volleyball. “Өө, заал, гэх юм уу?” she replied. Yup, that where I was trying to remember. Anyway, she let me by.

I reached the gym without issue. Then I found my colleages weren’t there. So I sent a photo in our English group chat to confirm I showed up. I also implied I got a haircut, hehe. I checked my other messages while I waited and felt pleased to see an Honors College Student Council officer offered to fill my Community Advisory Board’s secretary vacancy. That left me hopeful! Still, it seemed like my colleagues weren’t coming to the gym that night.

On a grim note, I also read the news that our cohort’s first Early Termination (ET) would occur. ETs always feel painful, for they mean the loss of a Peace Corps community member. I thought about this for some time on my walk home. I returned to my apartment for a nap.

Adventure

I awoke to “Lush Life” by Zara Larsson, followed not long after by “Sunday Morning” (Maroon 5) and “Stardust” (New Politics) as I got ready. Turns out the person I was supposed to meet ahead of the night’s event came early to the restaurant where we’d meet. So, leaving behind my backpack and armoring up with my coat for -17°C (1°F), I bolted from the apartment.

The eager KOICA intern with whom I served the kids on Chinggis Khaan’s birthday had invited me to come to see a concert with her at the cool Fat Cat Jazz Club. The headliner was Carole Alston, an American. So we’d grab dinner before the show. That was the plan.

Rushing down streets against the clock, I felt as though the male lead of some drama. I pictured a scene of having to catch someone before that person catches a train, perhaps never to be seen again. I hustled. I skipped across the broken sidewalks and navigated past even a great mound of dirt across a sidestreet.

On the run, I saw pleasantly that the sidewalk ice cleared by local workers had largely melted. Still, I recalled that Safety & Security emailed us colder weather was coming. (Earlier that day, I felt surprised that we hadn’t gotten emails about such things until that very day we got such an email.)

Arrival

By the time I arrived, my friend and I found that apparently the café closed early that evening. So we would try elsewhere. Apparently her apartment was nearby. Its interior reminded me of the digs an undergrad in nice parts of America might have. The direct nighttime view of Sukhbaatar Square was phenomenal.

Hanging out for a bit, my friend treated me to homemade Korean foods I hadn't had before. They were cute and so good. The intern mentioned she too came from a comms background. I shared some about my recent time in New York, as I'd shared in my blog earlier that day. I feel a bit bashful that she said she’d already read it, given that not even 24 hours had passed since I shared it. Still, I feel grateful that someone had read it.

We chatted a little about churches, too. She mentioned attending a Korean one sometimes! Adonis had mentioned Korean churches when I was first in Mongolia, but I never had a chance to visit one. An outing to one would be a future adventure, then.

Jazz

We stepped underground into the brick jazz club. I felt surprised to see KOICA staff members with whom I’d been chatting within the past 24 hours. People who were strangers no less than a day before were fellow concert-goers. Their table was too small for the two of us to join, though, so we retreated to a high table along the back wall.

The concert kicked off with the tune “Route 66.” Music brings back memories. The tune mentioned such places as St. Louis, where I was during my last month in America. The performances also reminded me of a few more experiences. I remembered watching the evening performance of my professor of the MUS 122R honors survey of jazz class. I’d taken that during my first semester of college, fall 2OI5. I even remembered that pandemic experience when my fraternity brothers and I took a friend out to midtown Reno jazz bars. That marked his belated 21st birthday and my belated 24th, a couple nights after our shared day, July 6, 2O2I.

My friend ordered a cherry Coca-Cola to share between us. We got these quaint little jar-looking cups with bright plastic straws. Pop tasted sweet. I liked it. I didn’t feel like ordering anything else. She was so generous. I’d pick up our bill.

As the jazz night progressed, I remembered too scenes from “La La Land,” that favorite film of mine. I considered how quite a lot of its plot happened during concerts in jazz clubs like this one. I felt glad to experience another part of that “La La Land” tour from—to my surprise—a year and a half before. The film captured the intimacy of such spaces well.

Next Quest

During the intermission, a friend from KOICA staff came by our table and said hi. She was surprised to find out I’m Christian, since I remember on the bus we talked about Christian roots. My name’s “Daniel” after all. I guess I hadn’t brought up my personal story.

The person I sat with mentioned I would be joining her at the Korean church in a couple days. The staff member, amazed, and said something to her in Korean. Their nonverbals gave me the impression she said something joking, like that my pal was recruiting me into her community when I didn’t speak Korean. Plenty of people in Mongolia had encouraged me to study Korean, anyway.

The waiters came by at some point to announce the last call for drinks. Like the last call for food, we said we were fine. Indeed we were. We kept chatting after the show till the venue’s closing.

During our stroll back in the cold outside, I recognized the great mound of dirt I’d skirted by earlier and realized that I’d hustled right past this place on my way to the nearby café. We joked that I could run home to stay warm. But I opted instead for the brisk walk. One dash across town was enough for the night!

As I walked home, I remembered how my dad would often do as I did, picking up the bill. He did that especially in front of my stepmom unless she snatched the bill first. I felt glad I could do something in thanks for the fun time that Friday night.

Advent of Advent

The next day, Saturday, November 26, I came by the cathedral again for choir practice and the Mass. After I sang with the music ministry, a younger participant said, “гал, гал.” It translates literally to “fire, fire,” or, as I would say, “lit, lit.” I felt touched by their praise.

My peers complimented me too on, “Christ, Be Our Light,” even though I kicked myself a little for my harmony fading during the refrain’s back half. Still, I felt glad too to get to sing Mongolian Mass parts during the children’s service. Singing really was a great way to practice languages.

After Mass, I reunited with the Peace Corps Trainees downtown for an evening at the opera. Our Trainee Chris W. found a show commemorating Chinggis Khaan’s Birthday. We headed into the large performing arts building east of the Square. We watched from a great vantage on the theatre’s second floor. Chris also commented on the Soviet style of the theatre. His experiences in Russia sure feel cool to hear.

Chinggis Khaan in Opera

We witnessed an epic retelling of Temüjin’s journey to become Chinggis Khaan. I felt especially impressed by the opera’s dramatization of Temüjin’s loving mother, his captive wife and the rift between him and his blood brother Jamukh. I felt chills from the solo performances of the woman who portrayed Temüjin’s mother Hö’elün. I felt that she really captured a mother's love for her son.

I felt the most emotional from the final performance by the man who portrayed Jamukh, Temüjin’s friend. The way the singer as Jamukh compared his life to Temüjin’s left me feeling heartbroken to recognize that Jamukh’s betrayal of Temüjin was imminent. Temüjin ultimately had to overcome Jamukh to become Chinggis Khaan. The actors depicted them impressively.

With the show entirely in Mongolian, it led me to considerably practice my listening skills. Peculiarly, I noticed that Temüjin’s father’s name sounded an awful lot like the Mongolian name for “Jesus.” Есүхэй sounds close to Есүс. But that was just a coincidence. Yesükhei didn’t have much to do with Yesüs. Anyway, the show, in its marvelous performances, stage and costumes, increased my interest in the life of Chinggis Khaan and led me to read more about him that night. I love great performances. Anyway, the next morning would kick off Advent 2O22.

You can read more from me here at memoryLang.tumblr.com :)

#Peace Corps #Mongolia #memoir #story #Catholic #God #memoryLang #USA #jazz #church #Asia #KOICA #Thanksgiving #Korean #music #UB #Chinggis Khaan #travel #winter #Ulaanbaatar

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