<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766</id><updated>2012-02-17T02:30:02.303+08:00</updated><title type='text'>...in which our Intrepid Explorer ventures East</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-4408269146143394611</id><published>2008-12-27T19:52:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T19:56:18.912+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally</title><content type='html'>For the last few weeks, blogspot.com has not allowed me to publish photos.  I'm not sure whether the problem is on my end or theirs, but I suppose this is a fine time to close the blog.  I plan to leave Ulaanbaatar in about three weeks.  I'll travel to Beijing by train, and stay a few days before flying home.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I get a chance to show you my amazing Christmas photos, and future Beijing photos, in person.  It's been a rich year, and I hope to catch up with you to hear what 2008 was like for you.  Bayartae!  (Good-bye!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-4408269146143394611?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/4408269146143394611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=4408269146143394611' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/4408269146143394611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/4408269146143394611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/12/finally.html' title='Finally'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-1425015864621643797</id><published>2008-11-23T17:08:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T17:12:27.677+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm thankful for...</title><content type='html'>...so many things.  I’m thankful for my 24 years.  I’m thankful for being able to see the world with my own camera.  I’m thankful for visits over tea.  I’m thankful for smart, caring, funny friends.  I’m thankful for the sunny days and mountains that offer a background to my days.  I’m thankful for an amazing job.  I’m thankful that teaching and learning are not separate.  I’m thankful for being able to chuckle (most of the time) at the absurdities of daily life.  I’m thankful for my health.  I’m thankful for the beautiful, cold mornings, and the little birds that manage to live and sing here all winter long.  I’m thankful for my family.  I’m thankful for books and the writers who take time to create them.  I’m thankful for people who are able to think differently.  I’m thankful for all the opportunities I have.  I’m thankful for the path of freedom that Jesus showed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-1425015864621643797?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/1425015864621643797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=1425015864621643797' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/1425015864621643797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/1425015864621643797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-thankful-for.html' title='I&apos;m thankful for...'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-3862535924689797275</id><published>2008-11-23T16:56:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T17:06:38.745+08:00</updated><title type='text'>a-sound</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1CbAz2uyUvo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1CbAz2uyUvo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a new band that’s quickly becoming popular.  I got their CD after I saw this video on TV one evening.  This song is about a boy who loves his radio, because it reminds him of summers past.  I like the band’s mellow, acoustic sound.  Enjoy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Also, in this video you can get an idea of how common smoking is; people hate the terrible pollution in the city, but many smoke too.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-3862535924689797275?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/3862535924689797275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=3862535924689797275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/3862535924689797275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/3862535924689797275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/11/sound.html' title='a-sound'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-8229759175128136163</id><published>2008-11-23T16:51:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T19:52:24.954+08:00</updated><title type='text'>KARAOKE!</title><content type='html'>On one recent Friday evening, I was invited to join one of my classes and another of their teachers for “class bonding” via Karaoke!  Karaoke is immensely popular.  There are clubs all over Ulaanbaatar, but I’d managed to avoid them thus far.  Don’t get me wrong, I was happy to hang out with the students, but not so enthusiastic about the singing.  Thankfully, we weren’t performing in front of a crowded bar, but in our own little room, with a tv set and two microphones.  Some people had brought snacks, and almost 20 of us crowded in, hip bone to hip bone on the wraparound couches.  We stayed for 3 and a half hours!  It was a sweaty good time, and an excellent introduction to one big Asian pastime.  We sang mostly in Mongolian, but also in English and occasionally in Russian.  As long as the words aren’t 50 syllables and the tempo isn’t too fast, I can follow along just fine in Mongolian, although mostly I don’t know what I'm singing about!  In English, Britney Spears, the Backstreet Boys, the Pussycat Dolls and Westlife (an American? band I’d never heard of in America, but who have some popular hits here) were favorites, and I disappointed the students with my limited familiarity with these giant representatives of American culture.  However, our knowledge of English songs overlapped in Norah Jones, and Avril Lavigne.  The students love to sing.  Singing is a important part of Mongolian culture in so many ways (for example last semester when students made lists of the qualities of good leaders one group said a leader needs to be a good musician).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In related musical anecdotes, it’s been surprising for me to realize how much our American media and popular culture is spread and analyzed abroad.  Last week, I was discussing with students an article about the boom of drive-through windows and other conveniences for a growing percentage of commuters in the US.  There are no international fast food chains in Mongolia, and no drive-through windows at all, so it occurred to me to check that they understood the concept.  After a moment, one student said, “oh yeah.  I know what a drive-through window is.  I saw one in a 50 Cent video!”(50 Cent = a commercially successful, American rapper).  Who knew that rap videos were educating folks all over the world?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-8229759175128136163?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/8229759175128136163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=8229759175128136163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8229759175128136163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8229759175128136163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/11/karaoke.html' title='KARAOKE!'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-8151643603459237668</id><published>2008-10-31T23:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T23:52:48.162+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the Minibus</title><content type='html'>I'm finally becoming a minibus rider.  My four transportation options around UB are as follows: by foot, by bus, by taxi, by minibus.  Each of these has its pros and cons and each is more or less practical depending on the destination and how much time I have to get there.  Minibuses are cheap and go directly to places all over the city.  &lt;br /&gt;However, their routes, mysterious place names marked sometimes on their windowpanes, or more commonly, simply shouted in a well-practiced vendor's call, are often extremely difficult to discern.  &lt;br /&gt;The minibuses are all vans, dark green, with maybe eleven seats in the back for passengers, (and the conductor).  So, the bus stops, the conductor leans out, hoarsely shouting their mantra of mysterious syllables, and slowly, people pile in.  9, 11, 15 (plus the conductor) and finally we're off.  Weaving, veering and slamming through traffic... bouncing over the unpaved shortcut on the way to the 15th district, a single, crammed mass of riders.  Then, climbing out as gracefully in the little, low van, over all the legs and laps and bags to squeeze out the door and back into fresh air and SPACE!  &lt;br /&gt;These vans really begin to show their versatility and hardiness outside of UB.  This summer, there were times when we were driving in countryside-equipped vehicles on terribly bumpy countryside roads (tracks) and were overtaken by a humble, low-riding minibus, zooming along, with it's passengers hanging on stoically inside.  Amazing.  &lt;br /&gt;My friend Shino was in a minibus here in UB when it was hit by another vehicle.  I don't like to think about that, packed against the metal frame, swerving around in traffic... but it is exhilirating to have mastered another transportation option. What you can learn in a year...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-8151643603459237668?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/8151643603459237668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=8151643603459237668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8151643603459237668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8151643603459237668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/10/minibus.html' title='the Minibus'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-6281729429171868847</id><published>2008-10-01T22:43:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T16:24:17.297+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye September</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SOSDfBGNtCI/AAAAAAAAAOA/mxrrvgQcD7M/s1600-h/P1000634.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SOSDfBGNtCI/AAAAAAAAAOA/mxrrvgQcD7M/s200/P1000634.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252467634314523682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, walking home in the cold, late evenings now, the distinctive smell of coal smoke from the ger districts is in the air. I haven't smelled it for several months, and the odor is amazingly nostalgic, bringing back my first impressions of Mongolia from when I arrived here in January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The central heating turned on today. Everyone said our building must be one of those scheduled for Oct. 1, but I was trying not to let myself hope too much for heat by the end of this week. Incredibly (this is the first time I can remember something like this happening as scheduled) this morning water was gurgling in the radiator- and when I got home late in the afternoon- it was hot for the first time in 6 mo.s or so. Funny to remember I was so excited when it finally turned off during the warm spring weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SOSDfPQ-Y8I/AAAAAAAAAOI/-hfi_a6D5HA/s1600-h/P1000695.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SOSDfPQ-Y8I/AAAAAAAAAOI/-hfi_a6D5HA/s200/P1000695.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252467638117753794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is pretty much keeping my full attention. I meet 3 times a week with the second-year teacher's classes, and twice a week with the third-year translator's classes (my second-year students from last semester.) This week I'm finally feeling our routine has settled and become consistent; the new students and I are getting to know each other. I'm enjoying the differences between the two groups, (new and old, young and not-quite-as-young)- and I'm experimenting with adapting my lessons to their needs. I love being surprised by flashes of originality and excellence in individual students, and I love that I can see my older students have improved in their listening comprehension since I've known them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Although I still don't see teaching as my single, future career- I'm looking forward to going back to school where my practical experience can be refined and informed.-&lt;br /&gt;In the past I was hesitant to pursue teaching for fear I'd fall short of being a Great Teac&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SOSDfipqsbI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/ztu6hH5hGUw/s1600-h/P1000719.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SOSDfipqsbI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/ztu6hH5hGUw/s200/P1000719.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252467643321594290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;her; it can be an idealistic business. I have to say though, that one of the biggest encouragements here has been other teachers, giving me ideas, insight and confirmation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I'd like to share two small, but important successes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. For the first time, a Mongolian woman asked ME for directions! (... and although she looked taken aback when I started to speak, I was able to send her off in the right direction of the market she was looking for. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I learned how to make a Greek Salad Dressing, (very easy).  Add another feather to the Hostess Cap!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-6281729429171868847?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/6281729429171868847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=6281729429171868847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/6281729429171868847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/6281729429171868847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/10/goodbye-september.html' title='Goodbye September'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SOSDfBGNtCI/AAAAAAAAAOA/mxrrvgQcD7M/s72-c/P1000634.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-615650612149720690</id><published>2008-08-27T11:48:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T12:08:39.988+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SLTRs9RnQvI/AAAAAAAAANk/2mjUwiMn8ZA/s1600-h/P1000685.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SLTRs9RnQvI/AAAAAAAAANk/2mjUwiMn8ZA/s200/P1000685.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239042836831617778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fall arrived last week, unmistakable and sudden. Wednesday and Thursday were rainy, our first rain in a while, and the temperature cooled off. But then when Friday dawned bright and clear, the heat didn't return. There was a definate chilly edge in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather here is a wonder. It's extreme, mixed-up and arrives without warning. I've always lived near the coast; and apparently the ocean really does have a tempering influence. Last week, my cheeks were red from sunburn after walking across town, this week they're red from cold. Those still, hot days of 95+ degrees are, thankfully, over. And the leaves haven't even started to turn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Appropriately, this was also my first week back at school. It's teacher-prep time; (hopefully my schedule will be "finalized" today, *fingers crossed*) in advance of the first classes on monday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Winter is coming~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-615650612149720690?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/615650612149720690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=615650612149720690' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/615650612149720690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/615650612149720690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/08/fall.html' title='Fall'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SLTRs9RnQvI/AAAAAAAAANk/2mjUwiMn8ZA/s72-c/P1000685.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-2456645459059269288</id><published>2008-08-23T15:28:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T17:42:37.005+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Winds Down</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_YpBLxjOI/AAAAAAAAAM8/i3QVH3Ym5Es/s1600-h/P1000510.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_YpBLxjOI/AAAAAAAAAM8/i3QVH3Ym5Es/s200/P1000510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237643090859232482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you were all too busy enjoying summertime to be sitting indoors checking out this blog! Anyway, school is right around the corner, and it's time for me to get back into the routine.&lt;br /&gt;My main activities this summer were studying Mongolian language, spending time with some new Mongolian friends, teaching an English class twice weekly at an apartme&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_YpiB8pUI/AAAAAAAAANE/oMGxEXuXzqo/s1600-h/P1000536.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_YpiB8pUI/AAAAAAAAANE/oMGxEXuXzqo/s200/P1000536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237643099676386626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nt where prostitutes and street women have the chance to live and pursue other work; and making several short trips to different areas of the countryside!&lt;br /&gt;It was a laid-back but very rich summer for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, after working very hard and weathering an extreme winter, Mongolians take whatever chance they have to go to the countryside and relax during the summer. The weather gets very hot, (90's-100 in UB until just a few days ago) and everybody tries to get outside the city to breath fresh air, rest, and drink lots of airag! Airag is sour-tasting, fermented mare's milk. I enjoy a glass now and then, but Mongolians love it! They can drink it by the bottlefull.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy to have time to study Mongolian a little more seriously than during school when I spoke English all day and didn't study outside of class. However, I was happy to see some progress during the summer as I put in the effort, and have been rewarded by a greater&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_YqDANaLI/AAAAAAAAANM/APCXbvPkRLE/s1600-h/P1000565.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_YqDANaLI/AAAAAAAAANM/APCXbvPkRLE/s200/P1000565.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237643108527466674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ability to understand and make myself understood. I try to speak my pidgin Mongolian every chance I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to practice during the English class at the house for street women, since the girls knew no English; they were outgoing, bright teenagers and willing to be patient! That was a blast. The girls, who'd had only sketchy high school educations, were happy to learn, even though they hadn't done much school in a while. Two girls stuck it out the whole summer, and I'm going to miss them a lot as they leave in the fall, and I go back to school. The challenging part of the project was getting attached to girls who suddenly disappear back to their previous, hard lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also took every opportunity to travel outside the city! Most trips were short, but memorable. I went on a two-day horse trip in the National Park near UB; and on a 20-km hike through the most trees I'd ever seen in Mongolia. My favorite two were probably the one in early June, covered in this blog, and a short one to visit a herder family later in July. I took the night train to Erdenet with a Swiss-French YWAMer who was going to visit an elderly couple she's known for several years. From Erdenet, we gathered a couple more folks, and hired a taxi to drive us to Bulguun and beyond where we had to stop and ask at a ger to find out exactly where they'd set up for the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_Yq7qMx1I/AAAAAAAAANU/mM9U-mPPBPw/s1600-h/P1000581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_Yq7qMx1I/AAAAAAAAANU/mM9U-mPPBPw/s200/P1000581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237643123735971666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuya and Valodia are getting quite old (he's bedridden after a stroke) but they're both as active as their bodies will allow them to be. We joined in and helped with whatever work we could. They own about a thousand animals, they estimated, horses, sheep, cows and goats. Their two sons come and work with the animals every day. This is milking season for mares, and they were gathering and milking the horses every few hours. Needless to say, we drank a lot &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_YrKfe10I/AAAAAAAAANc/7e1mjZw5V2w/s1600-h/P1000583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_YrKfe10I/AAAAAAAAANc/7e1mjZw5V2w/s200/P1000583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237643127717549890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;of airag while we were there; the airag that comes from this area is famously the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late in the evening a thunderstorm struck, and Edit, Marielle and I sprinted out around a huge herd of sheep, gathering them into a pen as the rain started coming down! (I also tried milking a cow for the first time.) Sleeping in the ger, at night was interesting too. There's not much privacy, and the light would go on from time to time as various family members or neighbors dropped by into the night. Overall, it was a wonderful memory and I practiced both Mongolian and French quite a bit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also went to Korean language camp for a week; an activity at my school during the summer. I can't say I learned much; the students were mostly way ahead of me when we started! It was fun though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going back to school this fall with a wider picture and deeper regard for Mongolia. I'm know I'll miss it when this year is finished.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-2456645459059269288?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/2456645459059269288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=2456645459059269288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/2456645459059269288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/2456645459059269288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/08/summer-winds-down.html' title='Summer Winds Down'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SK_YpBLxjOI/AAAAAAAAAM8/i3QVH3Ym5Es/s72-c/P1000510.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-8527993626453215803</id><published>2008-08-03T17:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T17:23:35.273+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Naadam Festival</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SJV2Jl7RPUI/AAAAAAAAAMM/B163C9DX0-g/s1600-h/P1000486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SJV2Jl7RPUI/AAAAAAAAAMM/B163C9DX0-g/s200/P1000486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230216449432304962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;On July 11, the national, Naadam festival kicked off.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These festivals were held traditionally during the Mongol empire as a chance to bring everyone back from the far reaches of the empire, giving them a chance to compete in their traditional games.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The festival was begun again when Mong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;olia regained its independence from China, during the past century.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The festival goes on for a few days, with horse racing, wrestling, and archery.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I only saw the opening ceremonies at the big Naadam stadium on the 11 with Rachel and a group of other friends as kind of a farewell weekend for her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The day was hot, with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; rain threatening, but thankfully we stayed dry!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;The ceremonies proved to be a long, leisurely affair.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SJV2JRDtKXI/AAAAAAAAAME/ZhiPsFqcXLI/s1600-h/P1000484.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SJV2JRDtKXI/AAAAAAAAAME/ZhiPsFqcXLI/s200/P1000484.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230216443830544754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; contortionists performing in giant, wheeled flowers, and an introduction by the president, resplendent in his traditional dress.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Dancers and shamans performed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The royal guard horsemen entered and circled the stadium to rousing applause.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Beijiing ’08 Olympic national team was introduced.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All in all, it was&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; a nationalistic celebration of all things Mongolian.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;Finally, we decided to go back outside to check out the food stands and other stalls.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Chris informed us that eating õóóøóóð (hoshor= a thin slice of meat fried in between two layers of batter), was a necessary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; part of the Naadam experience so we waited one hour for grossly overpriced food.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Still, it was a good time, and while we waited and chatted we were able to meet some other folks we knew.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;We were all surprised by the large amount of foreigners present at the festival.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It appears some people center their Mongolian travel plans around the Naadam festival.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A few of my students sent me text messages on my phone, wishing me a happy celebration.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SJV2Ixko9HI/AAAAAAAAAL8/bJVuRKBmduE/s1600-h/P1000479.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SJV2Ixko9HI/AAAAAAAAAL8/bJVuRKBmduE/s200/P1000479.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230216435378746482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;After we ate, we met Ariuna, a friend of ours who was competing in the women’s archery and we followed her to cheer her on and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt; watch some archers competing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Afterwards, we caught a bus home, quickly finished packing up our things, and headed out to the countryside to stay in a ger camp (something like staying in cabins at home) for a couple of nights as a last hurrah for Rachel.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;People were concerned that there may be another outbreak of the unprecedented violence surrounding the election, once the festival was over, but thankfully those fears have proved unfounded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-size:100%;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;While the organization of the next government still has not finalized, life in general is continuing much the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-8527993626453215803?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/8527993626453215803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=8527993626453215803' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8527993626453215803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8527993626453215803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/08/naadam-festival.html' title='Naadam Festival'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SJV2Jl7RPUI/AAAAAAAAAMM/B163C9DX0-g/s72-c/P1000486.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-6187164519069240850</id><published>2008-06-29T15:37:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T17:46:49.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Touring and Playing in the Countryside</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SIQRtqQpMQI/AAAAAAAAALk/q4nBm7WbSKs/s1600-h/P1000281.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SIQRtqQpMQI/AAAAAAAAALk/q4nBm7WbSKs/s200/P1000281.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225320943792500994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right after school ended, I joined a bus tour of the countryside with foreign staff from my school. Eva (my Hong Kong Chinese colleague) and I were the onl&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SIQRtFP914I/AAAAAAAAALc/q2f5tVB9-h0/s1600-h/P1000244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SIQRtFP914I/AAAAAAAAALc/q2f5tVB9-h0/s200/P1000244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225320933857548162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y two who didn't speak Korean, so we stuck together during the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our bus soon left the road for smoother travel in dirt tracks out across the steppes, and I discovered that several hours of bumping along in a vehicle has the same effects on your body as a long workout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first evening, we arrived in Khakorim, the old Mongolian capital. The only remains are a small walled compound, in the center of which are the paving stones showing the circumference of Genghis Khan's original ger; the same place he used to conference with his leaders. After Ghengis, the walls and a monastery were built, and the area continued to serve as a meeting place for the nomadic Mongolians and occasional foreign explorer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was really a vacation for us all; our meals were provided by the ger camps we stayed in each night, and in the mornings, we had plenty of time to relax and do devotions. Then we &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SIQRuLQ8h6I/AAAAAAAAALs/FWXzZlHNJH0/s1600-h/P1000340.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SIQRuLQ8h6I/AAAAAAAAALs/FWXzZlHNJH0/s200/P1000340.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225320952652138402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;would pack our bags, eat lunch and arrange ourselves back in the bus for another afternoon of driving. Although the driving was often uncomfortable, it gave us an intimate view of the Mongolian landscape. Although I've been here six months, I've seen very little outside the city! I realized how big Mongolia is, and how different life outside the city is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw my first yaks our second day; we drove over a small mountain range covered in wildflowers, down past a lake and several settlements, and into a ger camp next to a hot springs. The water smelled sulphuric, but it was blissfully relaxing. The next morning a few of us went on a gentle horse ride up into the hills surrounding our camp. A we rode, we watched a large flock of sheeps "baaaa-ing" obove us on our right, and on our left, a herdsman was breaking young horses.&lt;br /&gt;The next night we spent next to a large lake. The landscape had changed. It was dry and dusty without much green life anywhere, so we felt a bit like we were at a sandy beach on the ocean. The last night we stayed next to some real sand dunes. We spent an hour or so after we'd arrived running up and rolling down them. Later in the evening, I went on a much more&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SIQRuq6HOWI/AAAAAAAAAL0/gBL2iU6WtcA/s1600-h/P1000362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SIQRuq6HOWI/AAAAAAAAAL0/gBL2iU6WtcA/s200/P1000362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225320961146304866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; exciting horse ride- this time at a gallop- across the plain. On our way back we passed some homesteads with horses and camels tied to poles outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although we were tired and dirty, we had dinner at a nice Korean restaurant the evening we arrived home. I'm glad I enjoy Kimchi, the fermented Korean cabbage, because I think it was served at every meal during the week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-6187164519069240850?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/6187164519069240850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=6187164519069240850' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/6187164519069240850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/6187164519069240850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/06/touring-and-playing-in-countryside.html' title='Touring and Playing in the Countryside'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SIQRtqQpMQI/AAAAAAAAALk/q4nBm7WbSKs/s72-c/P1000281.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-4431404642620620653</id><published>2008-06-12T22:53:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T18:59:47.001+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Graduating</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SFE9p0UU1XI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jG5rF7xg1lw/s1600-h/P1000164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SFE9p0UU1XI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jG5rF7xg1lw/s200/P1000164.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211014032472200562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graduation was last week. I was happy to join in celebrating the graduates for a day (although none of them were my students.) -Here, graduation is celebrated before final exams are given. That way, even the students who will ultimately fail get a party.-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier in the morning, small groups of students met in classrooms with their teachers to talk, take photos and reminisce. It was a lovely surprise to see them all; the girls especially went all-out, they'd had new dresses made and their hair and makeup was perfect. Then everyone got into their gowns and caps and it was off to the ceremony. For the most part, it felt familiar, although I didn't understand much of either the Korean or Mongolian speechmaking. There &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; a traditional Mongolian musical group playing the entire time that students were walking across the stage to recieve their diplomas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh.  and after 17 days without hot water, I'm really looking forward to a shower at my own place tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c78b7f307d2549fd" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc78b7f307d2549fd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331630465%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D382ACEC2F98BC11E05DCF20077DD041727D7CB9F.5B0C3579776DEF0EF31CEF36CF7311DD78E69113%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc78b7f307d2549fd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDm9IK3zcUmFGU3PzvOBYKEWgtN8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc78b7f307d2549fd%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331630465%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D382ACEC2F98BC11E05DCF20077DD041727D7CB9F.5B0C3579776DEF0EF31CEF36CF7311DD78E69113%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc78b7f307d2549fd%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDm9IK3zcUmFGU3PzvOBYKEWgtN8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-4431404642620620653?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c78b7f307d2549fd&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/4431404642620620653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=4431404642620620653' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/4431404642620620653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/4431404642620620653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/06/graduating.html' title='Graduating'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SFE9p0UU1XI/AAAAAAAAAK4/jG5rF7xg1lw/s72-c/P1000164.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-1114949640349022034</id><published>2008-05-26T07:58:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T17:51:22.234+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Class Trip</title><content type='html'>Hey all! I finally got myself a pretty little digital camera. I took it for a trial run on a class trip this last weekend- these students are first-year English Translator majors studying with another teacher at my university. They invited me to come along so they could practice speaking with me, there were twenty-two of us in total. We rode the train for three hours outside of UB to a little town called Byanboral. The town runs a sizeable tourist camp and was full of Mongolian families and students who came out on the train for a weekend of fresh air. I was expecting to be cold at night- but the weather was actually suprisingly hot (I've got a pretty nice farmer's tan!). Mostly we spent our time playing games, playing in the river, or walking up the mountains surrounding the ca&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SDoBUY1pMlI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/TivTUoiCsf4/s1600-h/P1000117.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SDoBUY1pMlI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/TivTUoiCsf4/s320/P1000117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204473769156489810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;mp. The scenery was gorgeous; I was incredibly happy to get out of the city at last!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SDoBVI1pMmI/AAAAAAAAAKY/veqlX8-45Sg/s1600-h/P1000070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SDoBVI1pMmI/AAAAAAAAAKY/veqlX8-45Sg/s320/P1000070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204473782041391714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SDoBVo1pMnI/AAAAAAAAAKg/GEV_0KIBEWA/s1600-h/P1000101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SDoBVo1pMnI/AAAAAAAAAKg/GEV_0KIBEWA/s320/P1000101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204473790631326322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SDoBV41pMoI/AAAAAAAAAKo/ew7Dj1y2GY4/s1600-h/P1000057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SDoBV41pMoI/AAAAAAAAAKo/ew7Dj1y2GY4/s320/P1000057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204473794926293634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-1114949640349022034?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/1114949640349022034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=1114949640349022034' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/1114949640349022034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/1114949640349022034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/05/class-trip.html' title='Class Trip'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/SDoBUY1pMlI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/TivTUoiCsf4/s72-c/P1000117.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-8435684322854247171</id><published>2008-05-20T21:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T21:27:12.074+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring</title><content type='html'>Still no camera. I have nothing to spice up my post so I guess you'll have to settle for a thousand words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made a decision to stay here for one more semester, a full year in total. Ever since I arrived, I was considering the possibility of staying longer than my original committment of six months, and I'm excited to now be working out the final details with my organization and school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer is promising to be quite nice.  Earlier in the season, roaring winds ripped through the city for hours at a time, picking up all the dry dust and turning the air brown. When you blew your nose, your snot was brown and you had to clean your ears carefully after every shower! However, the winds are dying down and the weather has been mostly clear and mild, not too hot or cold. Most exciting of all, the leaves are just this week appearing on trees all over the city! It's like Alaska! Spring is such a long, dead, ugly season, a slow process of growth and then finally, the life bursts out everywhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The central heating system is finally turning off all over the city. It was getting quite hot indoors as the outdoors weather warmed up and centralized heating stayed constant! However, the day we were all looking forward to (supposedly on the 15th of May, but I found out that's actually an approximate), arrived. On Sunday I layed my pillowcases over the radiator to dry them and found them still damp when I came back a couple of hours later! It's hard to remember just a few short months ago when the radiators weren't producing enough heat-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this week, I've got one more week of regular lessons. Next week, my students will be making their third, and final presentation, so my responsibility will mostly be preparing a final and grading. The semester's almost finished! I hope my students have learned half of what I have. I'm very excited to have the chance to put my experience to use next Fall! I've loved the creative aspect of preparing my lessons "from scratch" and I'm getting more comfortable with the rythym of teaching. I'm learning to relax and take my time during lessons, and as a result, I feel like I'm missing less opportunities for the students to participate and fully comprehend the lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blessedly, I seem to have also risen out of a little "culture shock" slump of a month or so, and I'm really been enjoying life here again for the past couple of weeks. Today for instance, my classroom was being used (without warning or previous arrangements). And as it was one of the busiest periods of the day, we had trouble finding another, empty room. However, my students were helpful as always and they took me to the scheduling office, where the scheduler found us a room in a far wing of the school. The room was excellent and we had a good lesson. I remembered previous occasions when I've been frustrated by similar instances, and I was surprised at how little this even caused me to pause!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for following along.  I'll keep you posted about a class trip to the countryside this next weekend.  I've been invited to join a group of first-year students and their teacher for a weekend jaunt that I've really been looking forward to.  It's time to get out of the city!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-8435684322854247171?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/8435684322854247171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=8435684322854247171' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8435684322854247171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8435684322854247171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/05/spring.html' title='Spring'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-592878004003484171</id><published>2008-04-23T12:32:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T12:36:22.850+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Worth Talking To</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;font-family:times new roman;"  class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Some of my most frustrating and, alternatively, rewarding moments in Mongolia, have occurred in supermarket check-out lines. Many of them at the same supermarket, come to think of it. For a little while, I was so frustrated and embarrassed from repeatedly having less tugruks on hand than the total my groceries rang up to, that I avoided the store altogether, even though it is the most convenient one near my home. However, there was also the time in Erdenet, back in the early days, when I had a mini “conversation” with a little girl in line ahead of me. She was staring at me and making faces back was better than trying not to notice. I asked her age in my own version of sign language, and she happened to speak the same language and showed me on her fingers. I had communicated and a Mongolian had understood and responded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This evening brought a rewarding moment. One of those men with a single bottle of vodka, and the smell of alcohol in their pores came up next to me in line. These guys are always impatient, addicts feeling the first withdrawal symptoms, and they usually try to push ahead of me. This guy was starting to edge forward, so I started to edge in too, to give him less opportunity to shove past me. But his foot was sticking out, and I kicked it as I shifted. Mongolian law states that if you kick someone’s foot you have to shake their hand, or at the very least, touch their arm sympathetically, to indicate you meant no harm. I made an apologetic sound (that’s MY culture) and touched his elbow, and he promptly, and seriously shook my hand. The cashier was still wrapping up the last customer’s credit card payment, and this fellow was getting really ancy. But instead of pushing ahead of me, his attitude had changed after I demonstrated a basic understanding of human decency. He now went into an elaborate, silent pantomime indicating he would like to pay for his single bottle of alcohol ahead of my pile of groceries. I told him I understood in Mongolian, and let him go ahead. By now the cashier was finished, and as he moved ahead of me, he continued his pantomime, perhaps to reinforce the practicality of his request or to indicate he meant no rudeness. Then, I guess he paid and was gone, but he left so quickly I hardly noticed as I shifted my groceries along on the conveyor belt that wasn’t made to convey anything. It was sad, but I felt much better, (and better able to appreciate his sadness) than in the past when irritation usually overwhelms pity.&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-592878004003484171?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/592878004003484171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=592878004003484171' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/592878004003484171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/592878004003484171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/04/worth-talking-to.html' title='Worth Talking To'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-8849276312648663515</id><published>2008-04-06T20:46:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T20:48:01.542+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lady of the House</title><content type='html'>One of my favorite "pastimes" here, has been visiting and hosting visitors; besides catching up on lesson plans (since being a bit under the weather), I got to do both again this week. Hospitality is one of the most important cultural values here and Mongolians are very good at it! I enjoy practicing at hostessing too- my guests have been gracious and I've enjoyed getting to know each of them a little better. Since I live right across the street from school, it's easy for students to come over for lunch or tea and they're enthusiastic about speaking English in a more personal setting. This week, my former language tutor and her daughter came to dinner, and this afternoon, one of my students and her co-worker came for lunch. I look forward to more experiences hosting and being hosted as my time here goes on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-8849276312648663515?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/8849276312648663515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=8849276312648663515' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8849276312648663515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8849276312648663515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/04/lady-of-house.html' title='Lady of the House'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-3631047544717502300</id><published>2008-04-05T20:51:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T12:37:32.525+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Alive!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R_jFXaI_uKI/AAAAAAAAAKI/fqhi2fm5jmo/s1600-h/DSCN2712.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R_jFXaI_uKI/AAAAAAAAAKI/fqhi2fm5jmo/s200/DSCN2712.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186111976861841570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey all! Sorry I've been neglecting the blog. I know there's a pile of you out there, impatiently awaiting the next update from Монгол. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, let me explain the photos I've included here, from a trip outside the city one Saturday. It turns out that there's an old military base about 30 minutes away from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;UB.&lt;/span&gt; Although the military still uses the grounds for training occasionally, it's mostly deserted. Now, there's a business operating to rent old Soviet-era weapons to visitors who want to test them out on their shooting range. I went with a group and we all chipped in to shoot a few rounds on an old sniper rifle. (It was a hard choice between that and the AK-47...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, more about what makes up the substance of my life here. This last month has been a full one. In the early weeks of March, I had a couple of speaking opportunities. I was the guest speaker at an English language worship service, and then the next week, I got to speak to my fellow teachers, giving a workshop on my "Intensive Teaching Method." Both were stretching and unique experiences. The English Worship Service is a small group of good people, and it &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R_jFW6I_uJI/AAAAAAAAAKA/KeEikVqrT70/s1600-h/DSCN2706.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R_jFW6I_uJI/AAAAAAAAAKA/KeEikVqrT70/s200/DSCN2706.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186111968271906962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;was a joy to talk there briefly about the Psalms. Then, the following week, I talked with my fellow teachers about giving students speaking practice and helping them to use the language they spend so much time reading and translating. My friend Sylvia &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Leftin&lt;/span&gt;, an accomplished teacher and wise encourager, gave me some good ideas for that. The majority of the teachers in the English department are a young, intelligent bunch of people who I've really enjoyed working with this past month-and-a-half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Classes are going well. A couple of us were discussing how all ESL teachers need to be part artist, part actor. I'm certainly using all my resources to make myself understood in class- much to the amusement of the students at times! I'm teaching four classes of English Translator majors. I meet with each twice a week, for an hour-and-a-half, so I have a good bit of time with each group. Classes have an average of about 16 students, although sometimes many less than that actually attend class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R_d15qI_uHI/AAAAAAAAAJw/oHhC8cdjy3I/s1600-h/DSCN2692.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; clear: both; float: right; width: 190px; height: 142px;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R_d15qI_uHI/AAAAAAAAAJw/oHhC8cdjy3I/s160/DSCN2692.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Attendance is sporadic here, to the dismay of all teachers; I've tried to stem the tide by grading heavily based on attendance, but sometimes I feel it has little effect! Some aspects of the school as an organization are different as well, and can be quite frustrating, depending on my patience level at the moment! Despite all of this, I really appreciate the friendliness of some of the students who are eager to practice and hang out, and their creativity. It's funny to hear Mongolians talk about themselves; they asess themselves as being smart, but lazy. Many foreigners are struck by a general sense of creativity and musicality in their students. All in all, this has been a deeply rewarding and interesting adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the first busy weeks, I ran into a bit of a roadblock. I came down with a fever at the end of one week, and found myself mostly in bed for the next week and weekend following. I've never felt so much like an invalid! :( I was diagnosed, vaguely, by an American doctor here, as having a lung problem and given a prescription. I just hung out, waiting to feel better and missing out on a busy, interesting week at school. The next week I went back to work, but kept "extracurriculars" to a minimum. Finally, this past week, I'm happy to report I felt normal again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between feeling sick and various other things (my camera was stolen, the power was out at least half the time for a week, greatly limiting my cooking ability) sometimes the small challenges of life here felt overwhelming. However, I realized what a good community I have; one fellow teacher subbed for some of my classes, another texted me updates every day, fellow JCSers called each day to check in and offer help, and even students texted get-well wishes! However, I'm happy to be back on the "well" side of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-3631047544717502300?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/3631047544717502300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=3631047544717502300' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/3631047544717502300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/3631047544717502300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-alive.html' title='I&apos;m Alive!'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R_jFXaI_uKI/AAAAAAAAAKI/fqhi2fm5jmo/s72-c/DSCN2712.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-5226221749355743423</id><published>2008-02-27T22:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T22:55:08.850+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Happy Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R8V2OxaRg8I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/NDdREUvjkxY/s1600-h/DSCN2675.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; clear: both; float: right;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R8V2OxaRg8I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/NDdREUvjkxY/s160/DSCN2675.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; For the last three weeks, I've been busy with work at Ulaanbaatar University, the small private school where I'm teaching English. The school is conveniently located right across the street from where I live. I'm really enjoying it! But more about that later. First I've got to update you on one of the most important holidays of the year, my birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned 24 on Tuesday, the 19th. I was having dinner with a couple of Japanese friends, Shino and Ruth (Ruth was my classmate during the Mongolian language course, and sadly, has now left Mongolia) and someone told them it was my birthday, so they made it into a little celebration. Also, two packages had arrived from home, and we all enjoyed opening them together and seeing the wonderful care packages my family had sent. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R8V2PRaRg9I/AAAAAAAAAJY/hEPdiN0qsB8/s1600-h/DSCN2678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; clear: both; float: right;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R8V2PRaRg9I/AAAAAAAAAJY/hEPdiN0qsB8/s160/DSCN2678.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt; Then Sunday, the young people at my church caught a bus and went together to a sledding/ski hill outside of town. As you can see in the pictures, it was a gray, smoky day, but the weather has warmed up considerably and a good time was had by all. It was yet another adventure for me, and I especially enjoyed getting to know a couple of friends a little better. Also pictured, is the loooong sledding slope. Riding two-by-two on little old-fashioned wooden sleds down that long, rock strewn slope was dangerous! I'm still nursing several small wounds gathered in a string of crashes. However, we all got our exercise, walking back up the hill all afternoon and eventually, trying to keep warm as the snow soaked through our shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R8V2PhaRg-I/AAAAAAAAAJg/_xm6jFbaTFk/s1600-h/DSCN2680.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; clear: both; float: right;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R8V2PhaRg-I/AAAAAAAAAJg/_xm6jFbaTFk/s160/DSCN2680.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After sledding, I just had time to go home and clean up to prepare for '&lt;br /&gt;dinner out. I had invited practically all of the young people I've gotten to know in the last weeks, Mongolian and foreign and I didn't know what to expect. I was surprised when quite a little crowd turned out and it transpired that everone knew everyone else from some connection or another. The group in the picture are some of my fellow English teachers at the University, (there are about seventeen of us, in total; Eva, who is from Hong Kong, and I are the two foreigners.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R8V2QBaRg_I/AAAAAAAAAJo/pC4vChL4bKI/s1600-h/DSCN2686.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; clear: both; float: right;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R8V2QBaRg_I/AAAAAAAAAJo/pC4vChL4bKI/s160/DSCN2686.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Finally, I had to add a picture showing off my new haircut. I cut it&lt;br /&gt;myself first, then went to a salon to have it straightened out a bit, and the hairdresser took off a substantial few inches more! I was really sad to see all of that hair go, but I guess it grows back. Those were just some of the fun things I got to enjoy in what has been a couple of very full weeks. I'll write more about teaching shortly.&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-5226221749355743423?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/5226221749355743423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=5226221749355743423' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/5226221749355743423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/5226221749355743423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-birthday.html' title='A Happy Birthday'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R8V2OxaRg8I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/NDdREUvjkxY/s72-c/DSCN2675.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-1004119532968762234</id><published>2008-02-10T22:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T22:37:35.992+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pink Heart Cafe</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rp-7CBTSdnI&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rp-7CBTSdnI&amp;amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;Sorry my Mongolian isn't good enough yet that I can say I understand this song, so I'm not speaking for the quality of it's lyrics. However, I happened to have borsch soup and a coffee in the cafe this is filmed in. That narrow, pink, heart-filled little restaurant felt strangely familiar; and then I realized I'd seen it during my "research" before I came to Mongolia. It's good to be prepared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-1004119532968762234?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/1004119532968762234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=1004119532968762234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/1004119532968762234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/1004119532968762234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/02/pink-heart-cafe.html' title='The Pink Heart Cafe'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-5779043819975920856</id><published>2008-02-10T22:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T22:16:19.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the New Year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R68HMRaRg5I/AAAAAAAAAI4/TEWGrtq3BCQ/s1600-h/DSCN2645.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R68HMRaRg5I/AAAAAAAAAI4/TEWGrtq3BCQ/s160/DSCN2645.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  This weekend, I've gotten to experience a little of Sagaansar (the Chinese New Year) and the biggest celebration of the year.  People clean their houses feverishly and make boatz, meat dumplings, by the hundreds.  Then Friday kicks off the celebration with a day of visiting family members to eat sheep, various salads, of course boatz, and to drink salty milk tea, fermented mare's milk, and of course, vodka.  After Friday, people continue to visit friends and family over the weekend and into the next week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    My mongolian language helper, Oyuna, had me over on Friday night for an informal meal of boatz with her daughter, Oyunga.  Oyuna helped me study during my official "Survival Course" and now I'm visiting her to continue learning.  She's there in the middle picture, holding a bowl of her boatz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R68HMhaRg6I/AAAAAAAAAJA/rAKGdVdw8L0/s1600-h/DSCN2646.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R68HMhaRg6I/AAAAAAAAAJA/rAKGdVdw8L0/s160/DSCN2646.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;    On Saturday, I drove about an hour out of town with a new Mongolian friend, Toya, who studies at University here, and a couple of other people to visit her school friend and his family.  Her friend lives in UB during the week, and commutes out to stay with his family when he can.  This time, we had a real traditional visiting experience.  We made sure to bring small gifts, and were given gifts in return at the end of the meal.  There were a large group of family and friends gathered, and Toya helped me go through the proper greeting procedures and eating etiquette during the meal.  It was the first time I'd had arag, the fermented mare's milk, and I'm happy to report it tastes like a thin, plain yogurt.  Three of the children of the family are Japanese teachers and were a boisterous, interesting group of people to talk with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R68HMxaRg7I/AAAAAAAAAJI/4Vz12nZumi4/s1600-h/DSCN2648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R68HMxaRg7I/AAAAAAAAAJI/4Vz12nZumi4/s160/DSCN2648.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    The family lives in Terelsh, in part of a well-known national park; their house is part of the settlement you can see in the bottom picture, as we drive up.  A couple of people went out on a horse ride after the meal, and the grandmother brought out a ten-day-old baby goat for me to hold.  It was tiny and had immensely soft, thick curly hair.  (I also got to try out a real, pit-toilet.  You can ask me for details if you're really interested.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I joined in on visits to a couple of other families as well, and was blessed by their hospitality.  I've learned a bit more etiquette, the best way, first-hand.  And finally, I have to say that if I was going to live in Mongolia, it wouldn't be in the "big city" of UB.  Maybe I am a country girl after all.&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:RIGHT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-5779043819975920856?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/5779043819975920856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=5779043819975920856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/5779043819975920856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/5779043819975920856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/02/new-year.html' title='the New Year'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R68HMRaRg5I/AAAAAAAAAI4/TEWGrtq3BCQ/s72-c/DSCN2645.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-5997056958611863304</id><published>2008-02-03T23:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T23:32:26.333+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day-to-Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XehmG8u1I/AAAAAAAAAIY/IqltZJxv7Og/s1600-h/DSCN2580.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XehmG8u1I/AAAAAAAAAIY/IqltZJxv7Og/s160/DSCN2580.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A "palm tree" livening up the median in UB.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6Xeh2G8u2I/AAAAAAAAAIg/-Kbw_WCs8cM/s1600-h/DSCN2619.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6Xeh2G8u2I/AAAAAAAAAIg/-Kbw_WCs8cM/s160/DSCN2619.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A small shrine on a hill overlooking Erdenet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XeiGG8u3I/AAAAAAAAAIo/MSOxGFwkSRo/s1600-h/DSCN2601.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XeiGG8u3I/AAAAAAAAAIo/MSOxGFwkSRo/s160/DSCN2601.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is my money shot, I've titled it, "Lonely Ger". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XeiWG8u4I/AAAAAAAAAIw/ekDCt_tvuhQ/s1600-h/DSCN2588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XeiWG8u4I/AAAAAAAAAIw/ekDCt_tvuhQ/s160/DSCN2588.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Erdenet men playing soccer on a Saturday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Favorite Discoveries, Notes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;1.  Sumo wrestling is quite popular.  I've decided to learn as much as I can while I'm here, and so far I can recognize the Mongolian wrestlers on TV.  It seems that two Mongolians are currently the #1 and #2 best sumo wrestlers in the world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Adults like to play.  We went sledding on Saturday and Sunday in Erdenet, and there were more adults than kids on the sledding hill.  At social events, people of all ages like to join in on games. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Everybody's name means something.  Many people are named for things found in nature, or even for the day of the week they were born on.  I'm often asked what Tamara means, (Mom???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Hospitality is a big deal, and so Mongolians are good at it.  A teacher I'll be working with at the Ulaanbaatar University here was visiting her mother in Erdenet and spotted me on the street.  We met the next day and she took me out to her mother's ger where I got the full (and standard) treatment of several cups of salty milk tea, a bowl of noodles and mutton, and home made dried yogurt curds to take back home with me.  (Her mother, sixy-seven, still helps to manage livestock outside the city in the summer.  She was curious about whether there are Buddists in Alaska.)  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-5997056958611863304?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/5997056958611863304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=5997056958611863304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/5997056958611863304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/5997056958611863304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/02/day-to-day.html' title='Day-to-Day'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XehmG8u1I/AAAAAAAAAIY/IqltZJxv7Og/s72-c/DSCN2580.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-8672860682922599675</id><published>2008-02-03T23:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T23:08:31.636+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XY7GG8uxI/AAAAAAAAAH4/28ZcgCms2_A/s1600-h/DSCN2582.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XY7GG8uxI/AAAAAAAAAH4/28ZcgCms2_A/s160/DSCN2582.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Since I last wrote, I have been busy studying three hours a day for almost three weeks, a Mongolian language "Survival Course." I'll summarize by saying that Mongolian is very different from English in almost all aspects and will continue to be a challenge. I had one classmate for most of that time, a Japanese woman who was following the results of the American presidential primaries closer than I was, and would update me with exciting wins. Our teacher was a 22 year old Mongolian, Ariuka. She recently graduated with a degree in German and hopes to move to Germany to live and continue studying there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On thursday evening of the third week, I caught the night train to Erdenet with Rachel, a fellow JCSer with whom I've been delighted to find I have a lot in common. The overnight journey in a cozy "coupe" compartment was a fun&lt;br /&gt;experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XY7WG8uzI/AAAAAAAAAII/GwyKid5vd_0/s1600-h/DSCN2600.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XY7WG8uzI/AAAAAAAAAII/GwyKid5vd_0/s160/DSCN2600.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Erdenet is a mining town established in the 1970's around a deposit of (?) something valuable, and now boasting a population of 100,000 and it's own link to Mongolia's single rail line, running between Russia and China. There was a tight-knit group of people there who welcomed us and I stayed for a week.  The JCS projects out there include a cafe, run by and for youth, and a school for disabled children.  I really getting to know Magda and Gerdina a couple of exuberant dutch girls working at the school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I taught a beginners English course for a week at the cafe.  It was a good chance to be creative and I was excited to hear the students using what they'd learned at the end of the week!  On Wednesdays the cafe usually provides some kind of entertainment, so I was signed up to present, (*drumroll*) "Alaska Day."  Mongolians have been unusually curious about other world cultures and a good-sized little group showed up to hear about Alaska, with the girl in the picture kindly translating for me.  I practiced my Mongolian alphabet by translating Alaska place names into Cyrillic on my homemade map, taught them how to do the "seal hop" a grueling Native sports event, and shared "blubber" or the nearest substitute, red jello. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erdenet turned out to be a welcome respite from the smoke in UB.  I went running for the first time since I've been here, enjoying the clean air to the fullest.  I also got to see a few things I don't see in the big city:&lt;br /&gt;    For instance, the other day, there was a car parked in front of the apartment complex with a dead wolf tied to the hood (and blood    frozen all over the front of the white, four-door.)  A group of neighborhood men were standing around, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the kill, and I heard it's generally considered good luck to bag a wolf. &lt;br /&gt;    Also, one afternoon, I thought I heard a shot, and some yelping.  A bit later, I was making my way to another apartment when I turned a corner of the building and almost ran into a man carrying a gun.  There on the ground was a freshly shot, furry, gray dog.  It was later explained to me that it's usually the garbageman's duty to shoot stray dogs.  :( &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I caught the night train back by myself (Rachel just stayed for the weekend), and the trip went smoothly.  I shared a sleeper car with a woman who fed me snacks and showed me pictures of her husband and children.  I was happy to arrive back in my room in UB Friday morning without incident.&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:RIGHT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-8672860682922599675?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/8672860682922599675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=8672860682922599675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8672860682922599675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/8672860682922599675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/02/learning.html' title='Learning'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R6XY7GG8uxI/AAAAAAAAAH4/28ZcgCms2_A/s72-c/DSCN2582.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-5817907112564782909</id><published>2008-01-06T22:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T22:02:33.617+08:00</updated><title type='text'>photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R4DfdmdfOwI/AAAAAAAAAEU/AAZbMpyQlcw/s1600-h/DSCN2563.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R4DfdmdfOwI/AAAAAAAAAEU/AAZbMpyQlcw/s160/DSCN2563.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My digs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R4Dfd2dfOxI/AAAAAAAAAEc/6wqTGNNnZyI/s1600-h/DSCN2535.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R4Dfd2dfOxI/AAAAAAAAAEc/6wqTGNNnZyI/s160/DSCN2535.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A dog in the ger district&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R4DfeGdfOyI/AAAAAAAAAEk/75P72RGQlmU/s1600-h/DSCN2552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R4DfeGdfOyI/AAAAAAAAAEk/75P72RGQlmU/s160/DSCN2552.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; "The countryside"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R4DfeWdfOzI/AAAAAAAAAEs/GPStj8GrG1Q/s1600-h/DSCN2572.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R4DfeWdfOzI/AAAAAAAAAEs/GPStj8GrG1Q/s160/DSCN2572.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A woman selling birdseed&lt;br /&gt;                             in front of the Monastery&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-5817907112564782909?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/5817907112564782909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=5817907112564782909' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/5817907112564782909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/5817907112564782909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/01/photos.html' title='photos'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iXGRdsHp9D8/R4DfdmdfOwI/AAAAAAAAAEU/AAZbMpyQlcw/s72-c/DSCN2563.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7228163138822737766.post-786387604290844465</id><published>2008-01-06T14:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T22:06:26.329+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Discovery</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It's hard to believe I've only been in Ulaanbaatar (UB) Mongolia for six days.  The days have been so full, it feels longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my First Week Journal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Day 1&lt;br /&gt;Successfully navigated Beijing airport (they have Starbucks!) and arrived in UB. Was met at the airport by Bill and Donna Mills, my JCS contacts. They helped me get my stuff into my apartment, shop for some groceries, then had me over for dinner at their place! New Years celebrations were in full (loud) swing but I still slept soundly later in the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Day 2&lt;br /&gt;Walked through the ger (yurt) district behind my apartment building. The gers heat by burning coal, so it's really smoggy here! Although apartments are too expensive for many families they still dress better than people in Alaska. It's really challenged my expectations to see almost all the women I pass on the street dressed to the hilt in trendy down coats and high heeled boots.&lt;br /&gt;I spent New Years afternoon ice skating, and hot dog roasting on a river outside of town with several families. It had to have been at least -15 degrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Day 3&lt;br /&gt;I found my way to the JCS office and had an orientation. Then I was able to catch a taxi to the State Department store to look around at a different part of town and pick up some necessities.&lt;br /&gt;Catching taxis involves standing on the side of the road and kind of moving your arm up and down around a 45 degree angle until someone (anyone?) stops. Crossing traffic is rather more dangerous. Mongolians basically push their way through the cars, waiting in between lanes for a break. Watch out for ice on the road!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Day 4&lt;br /&gt;My new boss is the head of the English dept. at the Korean directed university next door. She knocked on my door at 9:00am this morning and introduced herself. I went to the school later in the afternoon and met many of the staff and began to work out a schedule.&lt;br /&gt;I had an unexpected lunch with a Mongolian woman, Odnoo, who fed me potato salad, a sweet/sour, warm milk drink, and dumplings!&lt;br /&gt;After dinner with some more JCS'ers, I came home to a complete kitchen installed in my room! After her early inspection, the director had given orders to spruce up my meager sink, mini fridge and hot pot arrangement. I found a full size fridge, cabinets, countertop, appliances and dishes. I am in awe of Korean efficiency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Day 5&lt;br /&gt;More trekking across the city to work out details. I also had my first Mongolian lesson with a private tutor. Oyuna was very sweet. She's used to teaching Sunday school kids, so she taught me some fun hand signs to begin learning the alphabet. Mongolian's gonna be hard! My name is spelled Tamarap. The word for restaurant sounds almost the same as in English, but it looks like Pectopah.&lt;br /&gt;It's still hard to believe how much of a demand there is for English; it's going to be hard to practice Mongolian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt; Day 6&lt;br /&gt;I saw some more of the city, including UB's remaining Buddist monastery, on foot and was completely chilled by the end of it. My Korean neighbors were able to help me get my cell phone language switched to English. Cell phones are the cheapest way to call.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also tried canned, boiled mutton. I'd heard so much about boiled mutton as a Mongolian staple, that when I saw a can in the store, I had to try it despite warnings. The results were less than spectacular. I think I'll stick with the hazelnut hot chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tomorrow I am going to a church where many Ulaanbaatar University students attend. I can't wait to see more of what God is doing in Mongolia!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;you can e-mail me at tamaraclover@gmail.com&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7228163138822737766-786387604290844465?l=tamaraclover.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/feeds/786387604290844465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7228163138822737766&amp;postID=786387604290844465' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/786387604290844465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7228163138822737766/posts/default/786387604290844465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tamaraclover.blogspot.com/2008/01/discovery.html' title='Discovery'/><author><name>Tamara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00754821640065209628</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
