things I might say

July 18, 2014

Last week I was on a tram in Prague and there was this obnoxious American dude, talking loudly about how he hated the city and would never come back. He managed to use the F-word at least once in every sentence. I hate to give someone like that any kind of power, but the truth is that that’s the kind of thing that can color my day. Of course, there’s no talking to someone like that, either. But, then, quite unexpectedly, the best thing happened. My travel buddy, fellow RPCV Kevin, leaned over to me and said, in Mongolian, that the guy was stupid. And I burst out laughing! And I said, in Mongolian, that the guy uses too many bad words! And that was it, though the incident has stuck with me, it has a completely different meaning now. So, in honor of this keeping-Mongolian-alive-outside-of-Mongolia, I present to you a list of things I might say:

зүгээр (pronounced zoo-ger, with a hard G), this is the equivalent of “it’s alright, don’t worry about it, no problem”
тигье (pronounced tig-ee, that’s Tig like Tigger), this means “yeah, let’s do that, sounds good”
идье, идье (pronounced like eat, eat), it means “eat, eat” so you’ll never know, but I will 🙂
за (pronounced za), this word with so many meanings, that I avoided for that first year, ulitmately I use it for “uh-huh, I hear you, okay”

One of my favorite aspects of Mongolian language is this handy shorthand for etcetera. You say the word, then repeat the word using M as the first syllable. Who’s going? Багш магш (bagsh-magsh) meaning teachers and everyone else. What did you eat for breakfast? Өндөг мөндөг (undokh-mundokh) meaning eggs and all that goes with that. You might also hear it in the form of chilli-milli or pizza-mizza.

And here are a list of words that sound like perfectly ordinary English words, but mean something completely different in Mongolian. I include them here because I expect to smile at my inside knowledge when I hear these:
хайр, sounds exactly like “hair” but means LOVE
нэг, sounds like the name Nick, but means ONE
том, sounds like the name Tom, but means BIG
найм, sounds like name, but means EIGHT
арав, sounds like arrow, but means TEN
би, sounds like be, but means I
миний, sounds like mini, but means MY or MINE
нэр, sounds almost like near, but means NAME
тийм, sounds like team, but means YES
юу, sounds like you, but means WHAT
хэн, sounds like hen, but means WHO
вэ, sounds like way, but is the question particle for questions with answers (not yes-no questions)
хэд, sounds like head, but has to do with counting (like how much does something cost)
сандал, sounds like sandal, but means CHAIR
суу, sounds like so or sew, but means SIT
хэл, sounds like hell, but means LANGUAGE or TONGUE
дуу, sounds like doe or dough, but means SONG
ном, sounds like gnome, but means BOOK
нүд, sounds like nude, but means EYE
чих, sounds like cheek, but means EAR
хамар, sounds almost like hammer, but means NOSE

Things I won’t say, but will want to:
нөгөдөөр (pronounced no-go-der), one word for the day after tomorrow
урчигдөр (pronounced oar-chick-der), one word for the day before yesterday


Naadam

July 10, 2014

This week is Naadam, Mongolia’s big summer holiday. The winter holiday, Tsagaan Sar, has all the tradition; Naadam simply has fun. I experienced two Naadams while I was in Mongolia. The first was in my training site, Orkhon, during PST. The second was at my permanent site, Govi-Altai. For the most part, the only difference was in scale, Orkhon’s being much smaller, Govi-Altai’s being a bit larger, and neither coming close to the size of the UB Naadam. It seems all soums celebrate their own Naadam and the dates are staggered a bit from the national Naadam and one another.

It’s an official 2-3 day holiday devoted entirely to sport, specifically wrestling, horse-racing, and archery. So, businesses are closed but stores would be open (unlike during Tsagaan Sar). There is music, dance and singing, too, so even if you don’t think you’re interested in the competitions, you could still have a good time. And those are just the events in the stadium. Outside the stadium there were pop-up carnival-type activities like a bean-bag toss and a throw-the-dart-pop-a-balloon game (that one without any safety precautions whatsoever for passersby!). It was the first time that I saw whole families out enjoying the day together, little kids flying kites. Mind you, we had only been in the country for 5 or 6 weeks by the time of that first Naadam, and my soum had only ~2000 people.

As it turns out, my favorite of the three “manly” sports was the wrestling. Tradition oozes out of every aspect of the sport, from the moment the men (only men wrestle) come onto the field wearing their summer deels and Mongol malgai (malgai = hat), it really is captivating to watch. Once the match is over, the winner does a sort of dance inspired by eagles in flight. And after, the two competitors come together and the winner raises his arms over the other. It’s really hard to explain with words without it sounding clunky because you know they’re not thinking “now I have to do the eagle dance… now I have to honor my competitor.” It’s just what they do.

Naadam is also the time you’re likely to be offered airag, the traditional fermented mare’s milk. I had it at the first Naadam in Orkhon, where there was an entire ger devoted only to airag. They also set up gers to sell huushuur, the official food of Naadam. My first year it was made with geddis (the stomach, etc), not my favorite, and those gers get mighty hot because of the non-stop deep frying inside.

My second year, in Govi-Altai, my Counterpart said that I should wear my Mongolian summer deel (dress) to the stadium at 9am. What she didn’t say was that the entire Education Department would march around the stadium as part of the opening ceremonies. There isn’t actually a lot of status with that, many groups in the aimag did it, but it is just one of those examples where I was given the least amount of information possible 🙂 Oh, Mongolia…

I wish I could post pictures for you here but it is difficult since I am on the move. Eventually, it will happen. Happy Naadam, everyone!