Naadam and Darkhan

It’s been a pretty demanding week.  We were in Darkhan from July 1 to July 4.  We didn’t celebrate the 4^th here, as one can assume.  Us volunteers knew of the 4^th when it came, but it didn’t have a major emphasis or even a major thought.  I reflect on the past 4^th of July celebrations, the fireworks, family, the memories.  I remember last year when my brother, my sister and me just got back from Belize and we went with our family to Lake Saskatchewea to watch fireworks.  The year before we were in Seattle watching the fireworks over Westlake.  The holidays bring reflections of memories past.

I was sick during our days in Darkhan.  I was bedridden for two days with a fever, sleepless nights of the chills, and in the bathroom many times.  While Darkhan is seen as the “Vegas” of Mongolia, at least to the volunteer perception, it was for me agony.  I did not enjoy watching my friends go out every night while I was trying to merely endure.  I missed some outings.  I also missed some classes.  Reflecting back, this was my experience, unique and unforgettable.  It may not have been enjoyable, but it did give me a story to tell.  Thankfully the nurses on staff kept me refilled with the ibuprofen and pepto bismol.

One of Mongolia’s biggest holidays, Naadam, took place on Wednesday and Thursday this last week.  Naadam is similar to the Olympics, a national competition of the three manly sports of Mongolia:  wrestling, archery and horseback riding.  Just like the Olympics, the competition is kicked off by pre-ceremonial presentations and dances.  Men and women dressed up in traditional Mongolian clothing.  The colors were vibrant.  My host family gave me a “del,” a traditional shirt to wear to Naadam. The other PC groups came from across the area and watched.  There were many gers set up outside the stadium selling hosher (friend dumplings) and airag (fermented horse milk).  It was pretty good.  It tasted like yogurt.  We were told not to drink too much, because we would be in the jorslung constantly. 

We have one more month here in Sukhbaatar before we’re placed.  I’ll most likely be working in an aimag with another volunteer in radius.  My host family’s been great, very nice and they involve me with a variety of things.  I’m ready for my own ger, however, and space to create my routine.  We have to constantly report to our host family where we’ll be and for how long.  This curfew, my goodness!  I feel like I’m 16. It’s a humbling experience.  It may take this experience to really embrace the liberty that’s right in front of my eyes.   Maybe the freedom I’ve been searching for has been here all along.