Mongolia isn't pretty during the winter. This picture may be a particular kind of ugly (waste water dump at the edge of a ger community) but it's not necessarily more ugly than the rest of the city. Everything is covered in coal soot, frozen spit, motor oil and dismembered bits of animals.
But I'm enjoying myself again.
I'll admit I'm having a bit of a power high at the moment. Granted, it isn't justified, but I'll enjoy it while it lasts. Since Brandon decided not to come back I'm the only English teacher, which means that I get to decide how things work. It's quite fun. I've gotten to observe human character traits from a different perspective. I hope I'm not acting like a complete jerk, but I probably am.
A few days ago some people asked to be transferred up from level one to level two. They said that level one was boring. I was astounded by their request because they spoke almost no English, and the first lesson of level one had been amazingly difficult.
I have found that students usually overestimate their language abilities. Only a few have told me how good they think their English is (most say just the opposite) but the general trend is that the worst students want to move up, and the best students want to slow down.
Itgil and I talked to these students, and I finally offered to teach them from the level two book for a day and let them decide after they had experienced it. We showed them some level two books. One of the students leafed through the book, then handed it back to Itgil. She spoke in Mongolian that I couldn't follow. Itgil translated for me; "She says that the book is different. She doesn't understand some words".
no.....dur.....
I thought that the issue had been settled, but the next day they all showed up with level two books. It was... interesting. I must say I was impressed by their ability to learn despite the fact that their knowledge of English appeared to be roughly equal to my knowledge of Mongolian (that is to say, quite pathetic). One of them taught Japanese at a nearby university, so her general knowledge of languages may have helped a bit.
We slowly, painfully struggled through a few exercises, dissected the conversation period as if it were an animal on a lab bench, and eventually ran out of time. It wasn't a normal class, but like I said I was impressed at their determination. It's the first time I've seen someone choose to skip a level against our advice and actually TRY. Most people skip a level then sit back and expect me to shove knowledge down their throat, which doesn't work.
I tried to go out and buy a pie pan (or something that could be used as a pie pan) yesterday. I went to the State Department Store and looked around until I found something that might work. I then looked at the price. The exchange rate between the dollar and the Tugric is about 1200:1, so it takes a while for my brain to assign an actual value to the prices I read. This particular price was T90,000. $80 for a cheap cooking pan.
I glanced around at the other prices, and was shocked to find that they were all the same. The cheapest things in that section of the store were $30, and they were mostly plastic. When we lived here the same exact pots and pans were selling for $10 each!
Minimum wage here is about $90 a month. A fair number of people make that, and some make even less (or nothing). It pisses me off that someone would have the audacity to sell an ordinary pan (the kind that ordinary people stuff their cupboards with) for a month's wages. I also can't understand why on earth Mongolians buy them.
The state department store is an interesting place. Most of the stuff it sells is the same cheap crud from China that every other store sells, but the prices are higher than the prices in the US. Most of the people who shop there are upper class Mongolians, eager to demonstrate the fact that they can buy expensive junk.
To each their own.
I went back home, got the key to Brandon's apartment, and found that he had another pan. He also had some cough drops, of which I stole a few. I don't think he'll mind.
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