This week at camp went much better than the first, and much better that I ever expected camp to be. I finally got used to the food, to the fact that my cabin leaks when it rains, to doing work without internet, to winging the whole teaching thing, and it was good. Camp is beautiful and the air is incredibly clean. The weather is a little wonky, but it's okay. And, I really like the kids. They can be hellions in class sometimes, but they are still mostly decent kids. This doesn't mean that I like all kids - it means that this group was decent.
I really like the fact that in the camp atmosphere I get to see them in the classroom as students and get to learn about them out of class as people. It makes this teaching schtick way more worthwhile. It's easier to be patient with the student who doesn't participate in class when you know that he's mildly hard of hearing, doesn't understand English at the pace that class travels, and is willing to show up for an extra hour during lunch to practice at a pace that he understands. It's easier to keep giving up that extra hour at lunch (on top of being in class for 6 hours a day already) when you get to see the progress he's making and that it's getting easier for him to listen, understand, and respond in English - even if it is only a little bit. It's way easier to like the hellions in class when you get to pelt them with water in an epic water bottle fight outside of class. And, it's probably easier to like a foreign teacher who talks too fast, doesn't know how to teach, and is kind of an ogre when you get to watch her be foolish in games after class and pelt her with water in an epic water bottle fight. It's much easier to work together when you get to play together.
I really like the other teacher Sara-bagsh. (Bagsh is teacher, so that would make me Bridget-bagh. Or rather, Brijd-bagsh since the kids skip pretty much all of the vowels in my name. But, that's okay I can't pronounce theirs correctly either.) It's fun to be one of the teachers trading teacher stories. Talking smack about the kids in our classes when they need to have smack talked about them. It's nice to know that at least someone needs me as a lunch buddy as much as I need her. I skipped lunch one day and the next day she was very glad to have me back so she didn't have to eat alone. The kids are too cool to sit with their teachers, of course.
Some of my favorite moment throughout the week...
Toward the middle/end of the week I stopped talking at the intermediate class and started having them tell me what they know about stuff, or asking them what they wanted me to talk about. So, I would tell them about America, and they would tell me about Mongolia. I got all kinds of good suggestions for places to visit while I'm here. I got a whole lesson on things that are Mongolian - NOT CHINA.
The horse-headed fiddle is Mongolian National Instrument - NOT CHINA. The deel (a wrap around coat) is the Mongolian National Clothes - NOT CHINA. A wide variety of mutton concoctions are Mongolian National Foods - NOT CHINA. It is sadly true how much the Mongolian seem to hate their neighbor, but then again I am not from a history that has a hungry, culture munching giant for a neighbor. Although I am a little surprised that they don't reserve at least some animosity for the Russians. But, hey - that's their call I guess.
I also got to listen to the horse-headed fiddle (and if you check out my facebook page you can see some videos of one of my students playing it).
During a class with the beginners, one of my students asked me if I liked Ahz-i-ahn music. To which, I replied with a very confused look until one of the kids next to him whispers, "Asian!". So, I had to giggle to myself over that one.
Then trying to teach the kids the word "sheet" was kind of a debacle. I didn't really realize how incredibly close to another unfortunate word it is until i had a room of 23 youths yelling "SHIT" at me. I lost it on that one. I could not stop myself from laughing my ass off. Then one of the girls at the back goes, "Oh, wait. Shit? That's poo isn't it?" Yes. Yes it is.
Some of the kids that were only there for two weeks left the day before I did. So, Friday was their last day to hang out with their new camp friends. We had morning class and then just hung out for a while. During which time Brijd-bagsh got unceremoniously dragged into a water fight. It. Was. Awesome. It started up by my cabin, but quickly moved down toward the bathroom where there is a whole trough of facets. I started out on a team by myself, but quickly gained allies. On my team was Mohno, Undrakh, Badmaa, Anu, and Bymbaa. The other team was Osko, Tuvshu, Ebe, Ohinoo, and Tomko and Sulde. My team totally won. Even though Brijd-bagsh was soaked head to toe. Then later that night of a fairly hilarious game of "Do you like your neighbor?" (It's like How the Wind Blows, but instead of naming characteristics you name clothing. When kids don't remember which gender certain clothing is specific to, it's pretty funny), there was a disco. For one thing, the disco room is totally creepy with a giant mural of Bambi for Camp Baby Deer. But, Sara and I went in to issue awards to the kids who were leaving after their two weeks, and on the way out some of the kids stopped me to stay and dance with them. So, I did. I was exactly like being back in middle school! Girls on one bench. Boys across the room on the other. No mingling. And, when people did finally start to dance, they weren't really dancing, but standing in a circle. And, the crazy white teacher was the only one dancing. I finally left because they were boring me. I prefer college parties.
I find it interesting how such simple things can be so different around the world, and yet there are some thing that just don't change. A toilet can be several different shapes and sizes depending on where you are in the world. But, Mongolian teenagers, just like American teenagers, are still too cool to dance at the ripe old age of 15.
It was a very fun week. And, I actually get to go back. I'll be in UB all this week, then I'll go back for the last week of camp.
Once again, no acronym
