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Living a Memoir at Lunar New Year’s /Цагаан сар/ | #26 | February 2020

Christians tend to label a confluence of coincidences, "providence," or at least "serendipity," whereas Buddhists and some Asian cultures consider such more, "destiny" or "fate."

Regardless, wow! I met Mongolians mentioned in a memoir I began reading the week before, which took place in my city 26 years ago. And their family adopted me as a new foreign son, the way they did with foreigner volunteers decades ago. I even connected online with a Peace Corps Volunteer from Mongolia’s fourth cohort, who served at the uni where I serve in Mongolia’s 30th!

All this happened during my unforgettable first Mongolian Lunar New Year’s, Цагаан сар /Tsagaan Sar/ 2020.

End of Lunar New Year’s First Night

We’d all loaded into the car when my community member driver, the older adult I spent Lunar New Year’s Eve with, noticed he forgot his phone and asked me to call it.

I picked his contact from my list and passed my phone to him. He chatted in Mongolian with whichever relative picked up. Meanwhile, his couple teenage sons got out and walked back toward the blocky five-story apartment building. My friend handed back my phone, while his sons looked up at the highest floor, where we’d left from.

Oh, my God.

Before I processed what was happening, the older son raised up his hands then cupped them down. The two turned and hustled back.

The family dropped my friend’s Nokia five flights out a window.

The boys got back in the car, handed their dad’s phone back, it worked fine, and we took off. They acted like they’d done this before. (Granted, my friends and I during middle school used to punt one of our Nokia across the concrete quad at lunch. It was fine.)

Thus, my first night of Mongolia’s Lunar New Year reminded me I’m in Mongolia.

The First New Day /Цагаан сарын эхний өдөр шинийн 1/

Anyway, I last left off walking on the snowy day down the hill to the family of the woman from the memoir, I met at the coffee shop.

As I neared the apartment complex, I messaged over Messenger where I was. My hands were cold, haha. My new friend came outside to greet me, then led me right with her. In the distance, I saw the American couple being led by another local left. An American friend and I waved to each other. I felt glad they had people to spend the holiday with.

As my new friend led me up the apartment stairwell, she commented her friends used to tease her for her walks in the cold when she as at uni. She would go the reverse direction I came, up the snowy hill, to reach where I serve, and she’d be covered in snow.

She also said her relatives were glad to see me and happy I wasn’t worried about the Coronavirus. She said she shared with them my expectation that as long as people practiced cleanliness I needn’t worry. (We’d no cases in Mongolia back then, and our government quarantined all suspected cases.)

When I got inside, we’d no rush, since we awaited more relatives. Then we’d begin traditional greetings I learned at the Peace Corps winter conference. I felt pretty stressed, since this’d be my first time, but my friend reassured me they’re a fairly nontraditional family. My friend introduced me to the different children. Someone mentioned having made 800 бууз /boe-z/, which I thought was a lot. Then people explained most years are more like 2000 or 3000! I felt floored. Other families said similar.

Then the rest arrived. I felt amazed we fit 19 people in that single room. I felt Americans would seat at best eight to 10 people in that same space. But I love Asia. We make it work.

Greetings went well, too! I followed in line with the teens. I felt anxious when they brought money and I hadn’t known to present any, but my friend said I was fine without. I repeated then teens’ one-by-one raising our arms below my friends’ father’s and mother’s then leaning in to sniff near the sides of their cheeks. It felt pleasant, rather serene. We then walked the room and greeted the children’s parents in similar fashion. I surely breathed a relieved sigh after.

We settled in. Someone mentioned headlines of the Coronavirus reaching Korea, so we felt for them. We would pray. The father said grace, gave warm wishes for the new year, and we ate. I really loved that food. It included my first fish in so long!

Toward the end of the meal, having gotten to chat with my friend a bit, she asked if I had the book, Brian’s “There’s a Sheep in My Bathtub” memoir, on me. I did! I pulled it out, and she flipped through it pointing to photos of her and her family. I felt shocked! I had no idea these were the same people.

My first meal of my first Tsagaan Sar, I was celebrating with the same family that foreigners years ago met. And I'd inadvertently read about them our week before. My friend said they usually had the foreigners celebrate Tsagaan Sar with them, so they felt cheerful getting to invite me.

Holiday Hike

After eating, with plenty of idle time, we decided to hike Mt. Bayan-Undur. I felt glad, since I couldn’t hike it during the morning groups, who feared government hiking bans. We ascended the path I’d walked with fellow Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) and locals during our summer.

My friend explained Mongolia is in Northeast Asia, since it's culturally different from Central, Inner and East Asia. I found the label fascinating. Although Mongolians face south, I find north my favorite cardinal direction.

My friend also told me more about her PCVs and the missionaries who used to teach at the uni where I teach now. Even the oldest colleagues I collaborate with taught alongside missionaries! I had no idea other foreign volunteers and PCVs have known each other for years in my city. I considered how my PCVs’ and my friendship with our fellow Americans echoes a decades-long story of English education in this Soviet-built Mongolian city.

Then my friend related stories about how Mongolian Christians’ lives have changed in the last couple decades. World Christianity fascinates me. She mentioned one of the missionaries, a former instructor at my uni, would visit in May! So I might get to meet him. Furthermore, the memoir’s author is even her son’s godfather, so they still keep in touch. She said the author’s considered translating his memoir to Mongolian. How exciting!

The memoir’s author and his family arrived in 1993 and left 1996. In parallel, my mom reached America from China in 1993, birthed my brother 1996, and I was born 1997. In 2020, here I am in Mongolia.

After our hike up part of Mt. Bayan-Undur, my older friend from the night before came to pick me up to meet his father on the other side of town. So I bid my new friend farewell, and she said she’d talk to her family about having me come again soon.

Older Friend’s Family Gathered

As we settled in at my older friend’s family’s apartment, someone mentioned headlines of Coronavirus reaching Korea. People seemed concerned, especially since Mongolians work there. Then we settled in to eat. My friend had me sit in one of the honored seats near his father.

His father gave a toast I didn’t quite understand. Luckily, my older friend doesn’t like to drink, so he told his relatives I don’t drink. Still, they handed me the traditional cup. I gave it three sips, then returned it.

From the father, I received the most affirming nod, as though I showed due respect. I felt glad. Then we ate so much delicious food.

I wrote before of how children at the orphanage really loved my Peace Corps pin. But actually, many Mongolians seem to. I had it pinned to my traditional Mongolian shirt (which people also enjoyed me wearing), and my pin became a go-to explanation of Peace Corps. The emblem has an American flag, a Mongolian flag and its elegant peace symbol, ringed in gold, against my silver цамц /tsamts/ (shirt).

At this home, I received a tool kit as a gift. I found it odd, since I’m not too handy, but girls received accessories. One of the other men later used his kit’s box cutter to sever and rewire phone charger cables. I felt amazed.

Then my older friend’s generation played a game that confused me about stacking dominoes. They told me to watch to learn. But after watching and not learning for some hours, I grew sleepy.

A bit after the oldest men started smoking, my friend rounded up his boys, wife and me. But before we took off, the family distributed even more plates of food. So, I struggled through a very full, though tasty, plate of the warm бууз and cold salads. Then we took off. My older friend forgot his phone, we used mine to call his, then his sons caught it outside.

I enjoyed the comfort of being in a vehicle with a family I knew could get me safely home. I don’t jive well with unfamiliar drivers in unknown cars. On the ride back, my friend asked what Mongolian songs I knew. So, I sang "Аяны шувууд" followed by the English song I know, "All of Me." My friend recorded the audio, with this younger son joining me. I felt pleased to be part of that memory. Home with a full belly, I slept soundly.

The Second New Day /Цагаан сарын 2-р өдөр шинийн хоёр/

Tuesday, my Second New Day, began slower than my first. I informed people if they’d see me, I’d happily see them.

Otherwise, renewed in my reading spirit, I blazed through the finale of the memoir on 1996’s events. The day’s reading neared a hundred pages. Overall, I finished it in nine days instead of seven, so, not bad! I read, too, “Land of the Blue Sky” by Peace Corps Mongolia (2008) and Baabar (2005) on Mongolian Buddhism and shamanism.

I felt pleasantly surprised I celebrated this Tsagaan Sar holiday, of Buddhist and shamanist traditions, first among a Christian family.

Finding Courage

The most terrifying moment for me came from knocking on my neighbor's door. A week or two before, he invited me to visit during Tsagaan Sar. I felt moved by his offer, but I told him I meant to see my host family this year, instead.

Well, traveling home didn't pan out. So this year, I redressed up in the traditional costume, knocked, and waited outside the door. While I certainly wasn’t starving, I figured I might as well visit, have food there, so I wouldn’t have to cook during a season surrounded by food.

Standing there felt weirdly like a Hallowe’en custom (though, Hallowe’en was banned last year). But other Peace Corps Volunteers insisted, as weird as inviting ourselves to Mongolians’ homes feels, this is the custom. And anyway, my neighbors invited me first.

I knocked intermittently at least three or four times. I prayed God would have someone come out. Then someone came, I stepped in, and people looked at me, very confused.

I explained a man invited me. I guess they realized whoever invited me was out, because they asked me if I could return that evening. I asked if tomorrow would work, and they said sure. What a relief.

Nontraditional Traditional Celebrations

So despite the day being Marti Gras, I ate nothing for breakfast nor lunch. I’d eaten so much Monday! Sill, by evening, I hungered.

One of the doctors from our speaking group whose husband’s in the hiking group invited me and the single nurse over for dinner. Finding the door felt more convenient, knowing my other doctor friend lived in the same stairwell.

Many who know about Tsagaan Sar think of its countryside traditions. So I found it interesting to spend this year with my less traditional city. In places I went, we either spoke mostly Mongolian language, pretty much all Mongolian language, or pretty much no Mongolian language. Locals seldom wore traditional outfits, so they commended me for doing so. Mongolians joked I was more Mongolian than them!

Even that Tuesday night, beyond the semi-naked toddlers playing around, the traditional part was the phenomenal food and that we received gifts for coming. So, it felt like a fairly normal, delicious dinner.

After dinner, I successfully found taxis still leaving from the usual taxi stop. As usual, I thanked everyone over Messenger I got home safely. One more day to go!

The Third New Day, Ash Wednesday /Цагаан сарын 3-р өдөр шинийн гурав/

This year, Tsagaan Sar’s Third New Day coincided with the Catholic start to Lent, Ash Wednesday, a day of religious fasting. All Masses were canceled to prevent the Coronavirus, so my priest said just trying to fast would work.

So, I hoped to spend the day mostly among Christians, who could more likely honor my daylight fasting despite the cultural Tsagaan Sar tradition of over-stuffing ourselves. At least, I hoped they’d honor my abstinence from meat.

I kicked off the morning returning once more to the coffee shop, where I spent the week before. The Americans and the English speaking group met. There I returned to my friends the memoir and thanked them for lending it. Some group attendees were curious about my Peace Corps service, so they asked about it. I affirmed why I came to Mongolia, that I love Mongolia, and why I love Mongolia.

As a cool treat, the shop owner, a “coffee coach,” gave us a taste of hand drip and siphoned international coffees and showed us the roaster his shop uses. Just when I began to wonder if he was finished sewing the Bible cover, he returned Mom’s Bible, as well! I felt the beautiful cover’s deep red with gold seemed fittingly Chinese in color, despite being Afghani in style. I felt cultural links then to places where both my parents were.

Back With Monday’s Family

After the coffee shop session, I returned to the Christian family, in a different relative’s home. It's such a relief to be around fellow Christians. I like being frank about my faith.

Since Peace Corps is non-religious, I worry sometimes others can misconstrue talking about myself in terms of American diversity as spreading my religion. So, I keep it to myself unless asked. Similarly, whenever Mom wanted me to be safe when I left home, she insisted I not talk about religion. China wasn’t open about it. So, I aligned over time with John 13:35, people will know I’m Christian by how I love.

I recalled reading in the memoir that my friend and her community would fast 24 hours as a form of prayer. I asked about this, since Catholics’ Friday fasts in Lent are generally more lenient. My friend explained when her community fasts, they just drink water. She begins from the morning and goes to another’s home to resist temptations all day. Then she sleeps and can eat again the next morning. I felt inspired by that dedication. (On my fourth Friday of Lent 2020, I later tried this style of religious fast.)

At her relatives’ home, I still nibbled when offered, since I didn’t want to seem rude. I just didn’t seek refills or seconds. I acknowledged Catholic fasting allows for small snacking, just no big meals. I was fine. The food tasted great!

For English practice, my friend, an English teacher, assembled the children and had them practice with me. They asked me about my Peace Corps service, so I reaffirmed why I came to Mongolia, that I love Mongolia, and why I love Mongolia. I enjoyed their questions. Then they played a card game that people in the English speaking group this morning chatted about, Муушиг /Moe-shig/.

Signs and Wonders

That visit, too, people in the family commented with horror how the Coronavirus situation in Korea escalated. Mongolia has a good relationship with Korea, so when things go wrong there, Mongolians feel upset.

On TV, Mongolian news anchors and reporters wore face masks. The health minister came on with an official announcement, so my friend translated for me. The domestic travel ban extended even more days past Tsagaan Sar. I worried how other Peace Corps Volunteers would get back to their sites. They had been stranded for weeks.

Meanwhile, a flight of Mongolians recently came in from Korea. And almost all passengers were in my city. A couple Coronavirus suspects lived in my apartment building. So, police would be watching my building in case those suspects tried to leave quarantine. Apparently any more flights from Korea were canceling, too. I admired how seriously Mongolia took COVID-19 prevention.

After we saw on TV the remade Orientalist “Around the World in 80 Days,” then the extremely timely Korean film, “Flu” came on. Korean films often seem dramatic in their portrayals of sadness to me. In the film, an American played the obtrusive villain, which felt warranted… Peace Corps Volunteers hadn’t heard the U.S. enacting many national policies to hold back the Coronavirus, since headlines said leaders still debated its severity.

Korea’s situation made me realize Coronavirus fears in Mongolia rapidly ramped up.

My Last Supper of Tsagaan Sar

My supervisor called to invite me over for my last Tsagaan Sar meal. I hadn’t seen my colleagues in weeks with the extended winter break, and I missed them. Thankfully, with sundown, I could eat a full meal, too, and I felt famished. Though I still meant to visit my neighbors, I didn’t have their contact info. So, I hoped I could come another day. I knew my supervisor better.

I thanked my new friend, she said she could help introduce me to more of hers, then I took off.

When I reached my supervisor’s place, I felt surprised she had a cute bulldog. Few Mongolians owned pets. At dinner, I enjoyed much the same awesome foods I’d had the past three days, with a different juice and candies. I loved the Russian potato salads.

My supervisor introduced me to her husband and children, too. Her husband asked me questions about my Peace Corps service, so I reaffirmed a third time why I came to Mongolia, that I love Mongolia, and why I love Mongolia. I practiced my Mongolian, which felt fun. My supervisor insisted I spoke well. Usually we just speak English in our department office, so I felt surprised. Her son was learning English, too, so I gave him writing tips.

I felt glad to get to bond with my supervisor. I hear Peace Corps Mongolia Volunteers usually do more with their colleagues’ families in the countryside, but I serve in a city. So I appreciate the opportunities I get to know them better. It felt a wonderful finish to my first Tsagaan Sar.

The End

Then I got another call. Meanwhile, the family began taking apart the ceremonial food tower and giving me some with бууз to take home. I wondered if one more local wanted me to see them before the Lunar New Year's ended. The caller ID appeared of my sitemate stuck a few provinces over. They did not usually call during peaceful times.

Check my email, then we need to talk, I got.

The urgency cued we could be entering the Peace Corps phase I truly did not foresee coming.

Walking down the apartment steps, across the snow and to the car with my supervisor, I assumed what came next, for my Peace Corps China friend experienced this one month before. But I felt shocked how real this was.

I gave commentary and thanks to my supervisor while reading the email as she drove me home. Our director returned from Washington, D.C., with an unprecedented decision. I needed to pack up for a phone call the next day, because Peace Corps was evacuating Mongolia.

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me

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