Random is Good

by Rachel

In an e-mail last week my friend KK reflected that “random is good, adrift is not.” Indeed. My latest philosophy for living a good life in Mongolia is to embrace the random. Last week it took the form of spending an hour with an English class for employees of Mongolia’s phone company.

I met the teacher of this class back in the fall when she attended my “Breakfast in America” talk and she has been calling me ever since. I was sort of annoyed, and did not really want to go, but could only say no so many times. So on Friday afternoon she met me in town and we took a taxi to their office. During the drive she talked about her great plans for a language club, and a new curriculum and new classroom decorations. I am a big part of all these plans. She also offered to take Charlie and me to the countryside and, basically, to be my new best friend.

This branch of the phone company is in a neighborhood pretty far from our house but one I know a little. I saw “the room with the switches” and the “museum” and made the cursory visit to the director’s office, where he gave me his card. And then, it was into the classroom. There were 15 Mongolians: 14 women and one man between 23 and 45. They all work their regular jobs, mostly as engineers, and attend this class at night — five days a week from five until nine.

Each student had an “English name” on a card, so there was Susan and Sally and Peter and Helen, and so on. They introduced themselves and then we practiced asking “What _______ do you like?” and answering “I like _________ .” I stayed for about an hour and when it was time to go they were so appreciative that I felt a little like the Grinch when his heart grew two sizes. They gave me presents – a paper cutting of a Mongolian scene and a Mongolian and American flag set in a stand. They took a picture of me with the class.

Then “Peter” went with me in the taxi to make sure I got home okay. There was a huge traffic jam and he took the job of getting me home so seriously. At one point we got out of our taxi to try to get across a gridlocked intersection. I opened my door before he was ready to get out, and he said, very clearly. “Please stay here.” Then he opened the door for me. Later (back in the same taxi on the other side of the intersection) another Mongolian guy got in the taxi and started speaking English with me. He was a good speaker and said he taught himself. When that guy got out, Peter said, “He speaks very well. I want to be him.”

We got close to my building and I got out, ready for our warm apartment and the tasty dinner Charlie was preparing. Peter got back in the taxi to go back to class.