Summary: This blog post is long overdue and unfortunately, it will be the last one. I finished my fellowship, and I'm returning to the US! As I write this on the plane, I'm having a rush of memories of both the triumphs and challenges, and it's a bit hard to distill everything I've experienced in my time here. I'll share the highlights of my final month in Mongolia and then some of the impressions I've developed as I reflect on the end of this 9 month journey.
Highlight 1: Career Panel Event
Throughout the academic year, I've had several students ask if I could share about my experiences studying in the United States. A wide majority believe that, unfortunately, opportunities for growth within their country is limited, so they long to study abroad in Korea, Taiwan, Japan, Russia, and at the top of their list, the US. Since many of my students do not know people who have studied abroad, I thought that one of the best things I could do for my students apart from teaching was sharing these insights. But, I decided that rather than me just share my experiences, I could recruit the co-fellows in my program to be guest speakers at a career panel event for my students.
During the event, I was so surprised and elated when the students proactively asked their questions - ranging from suggestions on making the most of the "American college experience" to soliciting advice on applying to universities. When we broke off for pizza, they approached and introduced themselves to each co-fellow and had candid conversations about their hopes and dreams.
One student asked, "What makes American universities different from Mongolian universities?" It was then I realized that many had no concept of what an American college experience is like. The University of Finance and Economics is regarded as one of Mongolia's top institutions, but it consists of two old buildings, overcrowded rooms, and a lack of student spaces - resembling more of an American middle school. Their eyes opened with hope and ambition as they learned that American campuses often have around 40 buildings, a free gym, restaurants, large libraries, communal student spaces, modern dorms, sports traditions, and more.
Organizing this career panel event was probably the meaningful experience I've had in Mongolia. Early on in my journey, I had felt guilty that I had come to Mongolia with a simple reason of "wanting to get more experience. Meeting local Mongolians who dream of leaving their country only seemed to further engrave the privileged position I had in temporarily staying here for "experience," when for many others, it was a matter of survival. But through this event, I better understood the meaning of "cultural exchange" - sharing my knowledge and experiences that my students don't have access to - so that I can lend a helping hand for them to reach their goals.
Highlight 2: Ulaanbaatar Dialogue
As part of showing appreciation for my work as an English copy editor for the Institute of Strategic Studies, the organization invited me to their most important annual eve. The Ulaanbaatar Dialogue is an interstate conference on Northeast Asian security and is attended by 200 diplomats, academics, and NGOs all over Asia and countries with stakes in the region. The draw to UBD for many countries is that Mongolia serves as a very neutral platform to discuss controversial issues. Mongolia maintains good relations with Russia, China, the US, South Korea, and even North Korea (although they did not attend this year).
There were three Track II sessions I attended - Northeast Asian regional security, multilateral copperation, and impacts of climate change. Owing to my lack of optimism of multilateral forums, I expected the sessions to be very sterile, so I was very surprised when academics and diplomats did fire at each others' countries policies. The most notable exchange was between the South Korean academic and the Russian academic who regularly visited North Korea - the former framed North Korea as the main agitator in the Korean peninsula and called out Russia for its destabilizing influence while the latter equated both Koreas as responsible and defended Russia.
There were several times I felt imposter syndrome, but I had to constantly remind myself that I was formally invited by the director and that I actually copy- edited the concept note and invitation letter that brought everyone else here in the first place. But there was one moment that was quite discouraging. During the multilateralism session, representatives from different international organizations shared their insights on how to create confidence building measures - but it all felt "kumbaya" as they vaguely described the need to listen to and trust each other while leaving out specifics on how to do so. When I mustered up the courage to introduce myself and ask a question about what it would take for a regional arms control agreement to transpire in an area that has no history of one, the UN resident coordinator for Mongolia condescendingly said, "You look very young, and you have very... noble aspirations."
After hearing a non-answer, I felt very belittled but also found it ironic that the man who was speaking kumbaya language moments ago flipped the switch and told me I was being too visionary. So many of the panelists talked about the need to inspire the future generations to become peacemakers, but this exchange was not inspiring to say the least. I was just thankful that when I sat back down, people around me told me I didn't do anything wrong and expressed dissatisfaction with the speaker.
I'm very glad I had this opportunity to attend the UBD. I'm still trying to figure out what to do with my career, and the international affairs field is definitely on my radar. Meeting with academics and diplomats in this setting felt like a litmus test for whether I would enjoy the work they do, and if I'd have skin tough enough to handle ineffective exchanges.
Highlight 3: Travels
To wrap up my time in Mongolia, I planned trips to two of the high adventure spots in the country - the Altai Mountains and the Gobi Desert. My mom actually visited me for about a month as she, my friend, and I embarked on our crazy 10 day adventure.
The Altai Mountains are located in the most western point of Mongolia. The nearest town, Olgii, is actually 95% ethnically Kazakh. The Kazakh people who housed us in their guest homes were incredibly hospitable, and this was the general experience with the other Kazakh people we'd meet throughout our trip. Before driving to the national park, our tour guide told us Altai was like the "Swiss Alps. I skeptically took her words with a grain of salt especially because in my mind, the Alps seemed like its own category. I, myself, have never seen the Alps, but upon reaching the mountain range, I was blown away. It was the most beautiful park I had seen in the Asian continent.
Mongolians like to call their land, "untouched nature." In the States, when you visit parks like Yosemite, it's crawling with tourists, and there are paved roads and clearly defined hiking trails. It's the total opposite in Mongolia. There are no roads, trails, and park rangers. It's still feels surreal to think about how for miles on end, we didn't see any other humans - it felt like we were the only ones in this immense terrain under the "eternal blue sky." Some of the places we visited: Tavan Bogd (five peaks), Khoton and Khurgen Lakes, Turgen Waterfall, and White River.
We decided to fly to Olgii but bus back to Ulaanbaatar. That was a terrible mistake. We knew the bus would be a 28 hour ride, but we totally underestimated the back pain, the mental tug of war, and bathroom shyness we'd experience. The bus only stopped at two places for food, and stopped every 3 hours for restroom breaks. Except, there weren't any restrooms. We would just stop on the side of road, and everyone would spread out to take care of business. I've used the restroom in the outdoors before, but what made this different was that the drive back was all in a very flat land, with no trees, boulders, or hills to hide behind.
Then in less than 12 hours of arriving in Ulaanbaatar, we took another bus to head to the Gobi Desert. We visited three atractions - the White Stupa, Yolyn Am (Vulture Valley), and the Khongor Sand Dunes. Contrary to what I thought in my head, the Gobi Desert isn't all sand dunes but 97% just very dry, red rocks and soil. We had to drive around 200 kilometers in between each attraction as we stared out the window into nothingness for hours. Maybe this is what living in Mars will be like.
Running in sand at the beach is already hard enough, but climbing uphill in sand proved to be impossible. We couldn't make it to the top and gave up around the 60% mark where I lied in the sand and my soul and energy slowly sank into what felt like quicksand.
Impressions
*As a disclaimer, these are my personal observations. In giving my impressions of what I've seen here, there is the inherent risk of making over-generalizations about "culture" and "society," but nevertheless, I wanted to give my honest thoughts about some of the real experiences I've had while living here as a visitor.
Never stop asking and answering the question "why." I think I've heard the most amount of "no's" in my life here in UB. In restaurants, if you try to order a dish, there’s a high chance the waiter says “no” without explanation. And while these cases may seem trivial, I’ve frequently seen this pattern in my workplace as well. I’ve had several disagreements with the administration not allowing me to make changes to my curriculum, and each time I asked why, they wouldn’t give me an answer but would just say “No.”
Repeatedly hearing the answer “no” almost conditioned me to not even try asking in the first place, or asking the simple question “why?” When any society grows into the habit of expecting "no" for answers, it conditions its people to stop asking questions. But asking questions is key to creativity, innovation, and progress.
Even in class, I didn't have a problem getting my students to participate and share their opinions on topics, but if I further pressed on "why," I would get long blank stares. In our class discussions on political corruption and economic inequity, my students are quick to pinpoint the problems they see but have a defeatist attitude about how to resolve the issues, assuming “No, we can’t fix them.” In persistently inquiring my students why, why, why throughout the semester, I hope I was able to instill the importance of asking "why" to innovatively address the challenges they will meet in their future fields.
We can endure a lot more hardship than we think. My friend taught me a Mongolian saying, "hun jargal daadgui, zovlon daadag" which means that no amount of happiness will ever satisfy a person, but a person is capable of handling any amount of hardship. Mongolia, especially this year, was nothing short of survival. From time to time, I shared some challenges I faced in my blog posts, but I generally steered away from writing too much about them because I didn't want them to be the focus of my writing when I look back on my posts.
But there were many: the discomforts of living in a developing country, enduring a 6- month winter with days frequently reaching -30 degrees celsius, breathing in polluted air 27 times higher than WHO recommended levels, sitting in a taxi for 2 hours to drive 6 kilometers during rush hour, difficulty with making friendships with locals, navigating a cross-cultural work environment, etc. In truth, it's hard to understand what it's like without being there.
Yet, I survived it. And 1.5 million others in Ulaanbaatar survive it too. Some are surviving better than others because of the wealth disparity, and this by no means justifies complacency in resolving societal issues, but humans are so much more capable of surviving the trials that are thrown at us. I think in converse, it also means we are much more capable of creating change than we think. It will require a lot of asking whys and patiently enduring the hardship of fomenting change when it seems impossible, but my experience in Mongolia has taught me that humans are capable of incredible things. Having survived some of the hardest times of my life here, I feel more optimistic about my path ahead.
And that's it for my time in Mongolia! Thank you always for reading my words and following me on my journey. This blog started off as a personal project that I later decided to share, so I hope reading about my experiences was as exciting as it was for me writing them! I am extremely grateful for my former self for taking this opportunity and my current self for sticking through the highs and lows of the experience. I had such a fulfilling experience with my students. In many regards, they were the ones who taught me. I will forever cherish the memories I’ve made and the people I’ve met in the land of the eternal blue sky баяртай! - Hesu
I have enjoyed reading your posts. Thank you, teacher.
Good luck with your next adventures.
I will miss these posts!! What an INCREDIBLE experience you had! I am certain these past 9 months will bear a rich harvest of wisdom and understanding and empathy and personal strength for the rest of your life. I can hardly wait to see what comes next for you, Hesu!!