My first six days in Mongolia

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The countryside and the people
The view of the hills from the city is bland and desolate. But after an hour north from the city, the land turns green with flatlands and occasional hills stretching forever. 2.4 million people live in Mongolia- twice the size of Texas. 1 million of those people live within the capital city, Ulan Bator- where I'm staying. Fun fact: Horse to Human ratio is 13:1. Bayantur and his wife with their three year old child live in a one room apartment with an adjacent bathroom. It would be perfect for a bachelor, but not a family. God bless his very life for the man has moved his family into his parent's home so that I can have their apartment for the duration of my stay. I in turn have supplied him $200.00 at his request for rent (the monthly salary for a Mongolian). I pay for his meals and bus tickets when we're together. He told me yesterday, "Bro, thank you. You are helping me save a lot of money." I replied, "You're welcome. Thank you. If it weren't for you, I'd be lost."

The Lotus Home
I arrived on Tuesday night June 3, which was six days ago. The next day, Wednesday, Bayantur and I traveled to the Lotus Home- the street children's center from the youtube clip I provided in the previous blog. But there was no sign of a farm or a rehabilitation program, only an orphanage. The center was located in the middle of a slum with an elementary school. Since it's the summer, the children usually go to a camp on the countryside- the farm shown on the youtube clip. But this summer the children can't go because of a child disease called "foot and mouth disease" and they don't want it spreading. So there's a bunch of kids running around the Lotus Center with nothing to do.
Didi, the supervisor, is a middle-aged Australian Buddhist woman who moved to Mongolia thirteen years ago to help the street orphans. She raised money from different non-profits and embassys, bought the shelters and hired Mongolian staff and one Australian man named Ben who provides TeachAbroad opportunities for adventurous college students. Didi was very very tired and physically drained. And the rest of the staff looked just plain bored.
Didi said with a small smile, "These children are supposed to be at summer camp, but they're all stuck here and it's driving me crazy." I asked her what I could do for her and the staff if I remained here for two months. She rubbed her chin and said, "Well, you can play with the children. We always send the volunteers to the summer camp. But now we can't."
I replied, "I sent a volunteer application through the Lotus Home webpage about a month ago."
She replied, "We didn't get it. I guess the page is down."
I grumbled in my spirit. I wanted to say, "Look, you should've never built this center in a slum. You should've built it on the countryside to get the kids out of the city. You can't expect them to be rehabilitated where they continue living in a street-life type environment." But then I reminded myself, "Russell, this woman has been here for thirteen years. You don't understand the circumstances. And you've been here one day? Be careful Russell with your words and even your thoughts. Perhaps they cannot be provided electricity? And maybe there are many benefits from being close to the city."
I am so thankful for Didi and her heart. In my own heart, I felt conviction that Didi is Buddhist and not Christian, especially when Buddhism can be interpreted to keep oneself removed from emotional attachment while Christ taught the opposite. He taught that we are to love with every morsel in our soul even if we are repaid further pain and suffering. Didi made me think of the parable Jesus taught a Jewish audience concerning the two Jewish religious leaders who passed by an injured man on the side of the road and refused to help due to scheduled meetings. But a man of a different race and religion, a Samaritan, took the injured man to a hospital and paid the bill. Jesus then asked his audience, "Who did the will of God?"
Two Christians pass by street children and carry on to fulfill promises while a Buddhist woman raises money, purchases a shelter, hires Mongolian staff, and gives the children a home and education. And I ask myself, "Who did the will of God?"
Bayantur visted the Lotus Center with me and later asked me in broken English, "What did you feel when you saw the children?"
I replied, "I'm use to it...But it still disturbed me."
That night at the church service, Bayantur talked about our experiences at the Lotus Home and said, "It hurts me that a foreigner from Australia is helping our children instead of a Mongolian." The Buddhist culture, a spin-off from Hunduism, teaches that if you're poor it's because you have bad kharma or because you did bad things in your former life and are being repaid today. Therefore, it is often hard for the Mongolian people to give. Every non-profit organization I've encountered here has been led by foreigners.
Further, I've been able to provide dinner for six different street children. They always ask for money, but when I point at their stomachs, they nod yes. I stretch my arms out toward the cafes and they understand I'm letting them choose where to eat. They make a choice, look at my face for an agreement, I nod yes, and they act like they just entered a candy store with unlimited money and no parents in sight. After I pay for their meals, I give them a card I have made with a cross and the title HEBREWS 13:1 across the top. I hand it to them and motion to place it in their pockets. I say, "Yesoos," which is a name they all know. And they smile. Two of the street children were brothers. One was eight or so and the other was no older than two! I literally fed the child rice with a spoon! Two other street children, twin girls no older than nine, passed by the cafe window, saw their two friends, and stood at the door saying to me, "Please!" Of course I let them eat. It about ripped my heart out.
Later a street kid sat next to me on a bus with knife cuts on his arms, perfect rows of cuts where it was obvious he was the one doing the cutting (a common practice among children and adolescents who experience such inner turmoil that they willingly inflict physical pain on themselves for they know they can stop anytime; thus it gives them a sense of control). When I rubbed his arm and gave him an "ouch" look, he cast at me a wry smile. I rubbed him on the head and he dropped his eyes, telling me that he believed in my genuine concern. (Did you know that in Brazil, street children are often found dead in alley ways, exterminated by angry shop owners and even police?) Next week I plan to take one of the college students from the church with me to visit the street children so he can translate. I also pray and hope that it will tug at his heart and perhaps he will bring others to get more involved in their lives after I'm gone. A common belief among Mongolians is that the children are working on the streets and taking the money back home to their families who spend it on alcohol. But even if this is the case, there are always exceptions. When children get excited over a warm meal, this portrays a different picture. Besides, usually when people make excuses not to help, it's because they don't want to help. If someone says to me, "They just spend it on alcohol," I reply in so many words, "Okay, so what do we need to do about that?" Someone says, "Don't send the organization money because someone in power will only steal it and use it for something else." I respond, "Okay, so how do we work around that?" The entire parable by Jesus of the Shrewd Manager is the message, "Why can't we be more shrewd than the world? Be wise as a serpent and harmless as a dove."

Speaking at the church
Bayantur asked me to speak to the church as his wife translated. He asked me to talk about how I became a Christian, any message I wish the Mongolian people to know, and then how my home church fairs for such news would encourage the Mongolian church. I recalled Luke 6:36 where Jesus said, "Be compassionate as your father in heaven is compassionate" but in Matthew 5:48 Jesus said, "Be perfect as your father in heaven is perfect." I said, "Some Christian teachers believe that the early Christians understood compassion as equal to perfection. That the more compassionate we are, the more perfect we are, the more we are like God. People all over the world are without the ability to read and receive education, but everyone despite their location or poverty has the ability to show compassion and love to the person that stands beside them. Therefore, Jesus said, 'Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.'" Can you imagine what the world would be like if every single person showed the same amount of compassion to strangers that we show the people who loves us and who we love the most? I am far from being there, but I'm striving for it. Such a practice would be the end to all wars and human abuses and poverty. Will it ever happen? No. I've spent twenty-seven years on the earth and I've always heard "Love God and your neighbor as yourself." Now I think I'm beginning to understand it. It's as if God is finally drilling it into my head, "Russell, you can't save the world."
And I reply, "Of course, I know that."
And He says again, "RUSSELL, you CANNOT save the world. All you can do is love Me and love the person beside you everywhere you go. THAT is your spiritual calling. Whether you do this in the States or Mongolia, I'll love you the same."

Traveling here and there
On Thursday, I traveled to an orphanage on the other side of the city. They are sending all their children to a summer camp and when I asked how we could help, they stated that they need $3,000.00 a year for medical expenses to help the former street children who suffer from sicknesses and STDs. The government gives them $500.00 a year but all of it's spent within two months. When they asked me if I could donate $2,500.00, I answered that I didn't have access to those kinds of resources (when people in third world countries see a white man they assume he's a walking ATM). When I gave them my sincere apologies, I could tell they believed me and appreciated my concern. Later I emailed a doctor I know in Jasper, Alabama and passed along the message wondering if he or any of his colleagues might help. I'm awaiting his reply. On Friday, I journeyed to another organization called Save the Children, gave them my resume after it was requested and they said they'd get back to me at the end of the week. Next week I will be traveling to a town north of Ulan Bator called Erdenet where I will visit the organization YWAM (Youth With A Mission). A part of me feels helpless here since so many of my plans and ideas have fallen through, but I trust that God has brought me here for a reason and that He'll provide something for myself and the college students to sink our teeth into when they arrive in July. Please continue praying that God will watch over us and provide for us and show us what He intends for us to do.

The countryside
For the weekend, a Christian man named Gonsook who owns his own construction firm, took me four hours into the countryside to visit a reservation that protects land and rivers and wildlife (deer and elk). We stayed the night in a little cabin by the river and that evening we met with a government official and the village leaders (goat herders). Gonsook is helping them partner with the government in starting a hunting club to begin in five years. The money hunters pay will help provide revenue for the villagers. Before 1992, farmers were accustomed to being supplied necessary means from the government. But when communism fell, that ended. Then between 1999-2002 treacherous winters wiped out many livestock, leaving farmers with nothing. That's why so many people have fled to the city for work.
Sitting in a contemporary tee-pee called a "ger" and listening to four hours of conversations in Mongolian, I sat in the quiet and tried to soak it in. The leader, not elected but won by respect, "Hortza" looked like the Mongolian version of Willie Nelson- the only Mongolian I've seen with facial hair. He and another older man talked most of the time while the other fifteen or so (men ranging from ages twenty to forty) kept quiet.
I was given pieces of lamb and a bowl of boiled soup made from rice, oats, and milk. I tried them all out of respect and it tasted great. I was then handed a glass of vodka, which I sipped, nodded and smiled, and passed along to the others. (Drinking is a huge part of the culture. Christians drink wine together after meals and when you visit a home you are expected to bring either food or a bottle of wine or vodka.) I was then offered a soft substance that looked like cheese with the texture of a boiled egg. When I bit into it, Gonsook told me that it was cooked colostrum (the first milk from the cow when a calf is born). I ate slowly, finished what was on my plate with all kinds of images in my head of cluttered milk with blood. I felt like an ignorant child who was eating meat for the first time and then told that "meat" is a dead animal. When Gonsook offered me more, I shook my head no, nonchalantly, as if I was full. He laughed.

Closing
In six days, I know how to get to the United States embassy, I know what time the buses begin and end, when the train leaves and arrives, how much a taxi will cost from one end of the city to the other and if I need a taxi to take me to the Russian border in case of an emergency (John, Kate and Jeremy in North Africa- you taught me well. www.cafe1040.com). I can travel alone in buses and taxis and communicate in Mongolian my immediate needs- asking for food, water, prices, tickets. But it's hard to go beyond that. I will memorize "Ek neek yaj keleck ve" (meaning: how do you say this?) and point to, for example, a pencil. That way, next time, I will know how to say "pencil." But instead, I just recieve blank stares. I will repeat it two or three times with different variations in my voice and then a Mongolian will understand me. I know because he points his index finger towards the sky and says "Ahh." Then he corrects my grammar and tells me what "pencil" is in Mongolian. I will memorize the reformed version of the question and five minutes later I'll ask a different Mongolian the same question while pointing at a different object and again I will recieve a blank stare. It's very very frustrating.

Until next time
Thank you for sending me here by your prayers and your emotional and financial support. I could not be doing any of this without you. Even your support when I was in North Africa (missionary training at Cafe1040) and East Africa (serving war refugees and street orphans) allowed me experiences that are still contributing to my life now. I feel your prayers and they give me strength. I wake every morning at 5:30am without an alarm clock and then my body crashes at 10:00pm. I have yet to feel the burdens of culture shock, distraught, discouragement, or loneliness which I can only contribute to the fact that this trip has been preluded by months of prayer. Please continue to pray for me- especially for patience. May I leave some encouraging words for you? A quote from Dennis Jernigan:"We are shaped by our past, but we are not bound by it." Mike Yankoski:"We can't expect circumstances to be easy just because we have prayed about them. We're supposed to go into them knowing we'll get what we need, when we need it." (Thanks Kat.)

Blessings,
Russell

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Photos

Didi
I found this picture on the internet

Random street shot
The modern with the ancient

Mongolian Christians
Members of the church gather for a house warming party for one of the Korean brothers.

Reflection in a cafe window
Along a main street in Ulan Bator

Community leaders
Gathering outside to begin

Meeting inside ger
Hortza and older man lead discussion

Nomad child
Picture taken outside my cabin before the community meeting