interesting day

I study Mongolian with my friend and tutor, Daganaa, on Monday, Wednesday mornings. She comes to my house and we spend an hour chatting and reading a textbook together. She is a Buddhist and one of my only and best Mongolian friends.

Sometimes she works for World Vision. She helps deliver aid in this neighborhood and checks up on needy families to make sure their children are healthy. She hands out letters from the Australian families who "adopted" the children.

On Monday she informed me about a family. This family has no father he passed away four months ago. The widow, around age 35, is unemployed and is left with 15 year old, 9 year old, and 6 year old sons. Her 15 year old is deaf and has no education, because there are no services here for handicapped children.

When Daganaa delivered the food to her family on the weekend the women was worried to find out that world vision was not providing any clothing. Her children don't have any shoes. Because of this, her boys cannot go to school.

As soon as I heard this tragic story, I knew something had to be done. So today after our lesson, we went out to brave the cold and find some shoes. :) It was -35 our car is in UB with a friend, so we bundled up and walked to the taxi stand.

I wish I had a special spy camera that I could use to show you what my day was like-- it is rude and difficult to be the weird foreigner always clicking pictures, especially when it comes to people's poverty.

First we go to pick up a "emee" grandma. She has to go to the Red Cross. So go to her house and pick her up. We sit down. I do what Daganaa does. We sit, we accept tea, it is salty weak fruit tea. I sip it thankfully. I am COLD.

The house is three rooms, probably a total of 700 square feet. There is a block stove. This family is doing OK. They have a washer and a refrigerator. Emee is ready so we finish our tea and head back out. We hail a taxi right away. We climb into the car. It is a Hyundai-- the old ones from the 90's that gave Hyundai a bad name in the first place. I promise you that every one of those cars has been shipped here and they are taxis in Mongolia.

This car has just been started for the day. The inside of the car is colder than outside. When my rear hit the frigid seat, I thought that I was truly frozen to the seat. We can see our breath as we speak to one another. The inner door handles are broken off and strings have replaced them. The windshield is shattered, but keeps out the wind. The car is sputtering and rebelling against its early morning work. We drive around looking for another passenger. The taxis never leave until the seats are full or overly full!!

The heater is still off- there is not enough heat in the engine to use it. We find another passenger and we head to town. The car is sputtering and coughing and all around sad. Our driver knows his vehicle well and treats her gently with finesse as we roll down the road at 15mph. We finally get some speed and the car is sounding a little better. The driver pulls into the gas station. He gets a liter of gas (1/4 gallon.) Back on the road again. We make it (of course-I've never broken down in a taxi. It just seems like we will) and Dagnaa tells him to stop.

We get out and walk with emee to the Red Cross. We pass the building and go behind to a ger (yurt.) It is full of women. They are making milk tea above a big fire in a giant pot. I am given the seat by the fire along with. They are afraid I am cold. They ask me again and again if I am warm enough. I feel like a big dork! Everyone is quietly waiting. Daganaa disappears. I have no idea what I have gotten myself into. I try to make conversation and be polite. I watch the women working on the tea.

She has a blog of frozen milk inside of a half cut open water bottle. She cannot get it to melt. It takes a long time. Finally, after fifteen minutes of fussing, she gets it to melt. We are all, twenty of us, sitting and waiting. For what? I don't know. I don't know why I'm at the Red Cross--- that is Mongolia for you.

I am given tea. It is hot, creamy, salty and good. I like cyy tai tsay (milk tea) now. I just imagine it's broth, in the American mind, it is NOTHING like tea. :)

Finally I hear Daganaa's voice. She is coming. She drinks tea and eats candy. We are all told to go outside. I still have no idea what is going on, and I don't want to ask and look like a dumb dumb. So we all file out into the snow and sun. It is about -30 now. We all stand around on the snow waiting. Finally, it becomes clear it is a dedication service.

This is a new ger and they are all here for a little party. They get a ribbon and hold it in front of the door. The managers come. They are given scissors and both snip the ribbon. It is done. Everyone goes back into the ger. There will be a meeting. We are invited. Thankfully, Daganaa declines :)

We then walk to the store. It is 1/2 mile walk. We walk briskly. My nose freezes. My socks, both pairs, are wrinkled in my boot and bugging me. My feet are cold. My everything else is OK. We make it to the outdoor swap meet like market and choose boots. This stand is in the shade... it is frigid. She doesn't know the sizes. We buy them and I hope for the best, trying to not let my American mind worry about perfection of size, color, and style! We also buy some warm socks.

We are both cold. I ask if she needs anything else from the market and she also asks me. We both are ready to go! Thankfully on the same page. We walk to the taxi stand and get into another cold car! By this time we've been outside about 45 minutes. I am wimpy and need heat--- STAT!

We wait and wait. My rich American self wants to just pay a double fare so that we can leave now, but I don't. We wait some more and of course two men arrive. We are all larger adults. The four of us squish into the sedan back seat. I am thankful for the heat of the bodies of those squashed in next to me.

We drive and arrive in our neighborhood. We walk another 1/2 mile in the snow and cold. I find out there is a place to buy cheaper flour and that there is a little man made ice-skating rink about 2 blocks from our house.

We arrive. The women is there with her nine year old son. Their home is warm- they have firewood and I am so glad to see that. I politely and not too obviously scan the room. Their house is about 300 square feet. They have about 5 cups and plates, one single bed. I table that is attached to the wall on one side and there is a broken bench that Daganaa and I both sit on. They have a TV and that is about it. They have no dressers or boxes, so everything they have is seen in this one room. They don't have any extra clothes. They are wearing what they have. They only have five thin blankets for all four of them. The shoes in the corner are ripped and strapped together with a shoelace.

We drink more salted black tea. Daganaa pulls out the shoes. They are truly pleased. The women smiles and they try on the new shoes. They fit everyone perfectly. Daganaa knows her stuff!!! :) The boy is happy. Mongolians don't express emotions or generally thank the giver for the gift. Usually, they accept a gift but open it later at home in private. This was a treat to see the boys eyes light up and enjoy his new shoes.

Daganaa admonishes the boy to help his mother and study well in school. This is a very communal society and it it ok to teach or direct other's children. They call children, "menee who" (my son) regardless of relation.

We say thank you and walk out. Short sweet and to the point. We walk together, Daganaa says "We are all mothers and now this women may worry a little less and her children will be able to go to school and be educated." I agree. To give is more blessed than to receive.

I walk home- another 1/4 mile. I kiss and squeeze my kids and enjoy our warm kitchen. We found out today that a church from America sent boxes of quilts. We know who will get some of those! Our church and family will continue to give help to this family. While my legs are pins and needly and thawing, I am thankful to do something to help and feel blessed that God is using us here.