Summary: We finally moved into in-person classes which has been a huge upgrade to the learning environment, but I wasn't prepared for the battle to get there. I also started weekly Mongolian language classes, and I can confidently say, "I have a pen," "I like food," and just a few more nonsensical words that don't have too much use right now but are nevertheless fun to practice.
Monday morning rolled along, and I had everything planned out for my first day of in-person classes. I woke up to give myself enough time to brush my teeth, eat breakfast, put on some teacher-like clothes, and head out the door, 15 minutes before class started. I thought that would be more than enough time because my apartment is right across the university, but I could not have predicted what I would encounter at the elevators.
It was a war zone. There was a constant flow of thirty students all pushing their way through to get to the two small elevators that serviced the entire 13-story school building. Each elevator could only bring up about five students at a time, and it sure did take its sweet time. It was a battle I was not prepared for, so I defeatedly took the stairs all the way to my classroom which is, of course, inconveniently located on the 13th floor. That morning, I lost the battle, but I became determined to always get to the school 20 minutes earlier, so that I would win my future elevator brawls.
Here's a picture of my classroom. It has everything I need. It has a great view out the window, a projector and a screen, and a teacher's desk at the front.
The projector screen has come very handy when playing games with my class. On Wednesday, I created a game of Jeopardy using words and concepts we had learned in the last two weeks. Of my 38 students, no one had heard of Jeopardy before, but by the end of the game, they were asking when we could play it again. It's been awesome to teach in-person as I have been able to put names to faces. I think one of the best feelings of teaching in-person is being able to see the glow in my students' eyes when something clicks during the lesson.
On Monday evening, I started a group Mongolian language class. I learned how to spell my name - Хэсү - and ask "what is this?" which I have spelled phonetically as "in-yoo-weh." I've been incessantly bothering my Mongolian colleague at work, pointing at everything I see and asking her "in-yoo-weh?" My favorite part about the language is that they don't classify objects as much as we do in English. So in Mongolian, apparently there's no backpack, handbag, bag, shoulder bag, etc. It's all one word for bag which is toonk. Also shirts, sweaters, and jackets are all called tamt. I think I can get behind this language.
Then, on Thursday evening, the other Princeton in Asia fellows and I had dinner with our country advisors (locals who act as mentors for us while in Mongolia). The three of them are leaders in their respective fields - education, banking, and non-profit. The best advice I got from one advisor was not to be afraid to ask for help. When we are in a different country, we might feel embarrassed to ask for help if something is unfamiliar to us, but that's how it's supposed to be. Being in a different country inevitably leads you to unfamiliarity. Asking for help does not signify cultural incompetence but a willingness to learn.
The dinner itself was amazing. I'm not normally a steak person, but man, having it after what feels like such a long time just hit different. My two friends and I coincidentally formed the "steak corner" at the dinner.
Each day, I can feel my life progressively feeling more regular. On some days, if I'm not paying close attention, I almost forget that I am in Mongolia. As I write this blog, I realize that I arrived here on August 23rd, so in about 2 days, I would have been here for a month. It's been so much fun, and I can't wait to tell you what I am doing this weekend in my next week's blog post.
Grateful to be accepted into the steak corner