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Mongolia Monologues: One Woman's Quest to Experience, Learn and Grow...
Mongolia Monologues: One Woman's Quest to Experience, Learn and Grow...
Mongolia Monologues: One Woman's Quest to Experience, Learn and Grow...
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Mongolia Monologues: One Woman's Quest to Experience, Learn and Grow...

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One woman's quest to experience, learn and grow... while serving others halfway across the world as a Peace Corps Volunteer. A middle aged empty nester joins PC as a way of shaking up her life and expanding her horizons. This book covers the difficulties, challenges and failures with humor and acceptance. Told in anecdotal story form, this read demonstrates why the "Peace Corps is the toughest job you'll ever love".
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateOct 25, 2014
ISBN9781483542126
Mongolia Monologues: One Woman's Quest to Experience, Learn and Grow...

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    Book preview

    Mongolia Monologues - Joanne Nussbaum

    Prologue

    By the time I joined the ranks of the United States Peace Corps in 2010, I was fifty-three years old, and I needed a change. Not a small minor adjustment like a new hairstyle, or maybe learning a new hobby. What my life required at that point was an ‘Extreme Makeover: Lifestyle’ kind of change. I was seeking an opportunity to change my daily existence, to stretch my mind to new levels, to open my heart to new people. I sought to widen the scope of my spirituality and to increase my understanding of myself. I craved thrilling and stimulating situations that would test my limits and expand my boundaries.

    I had requested to work in the agricultural sector in sub-Saharan Africa. I ended up in Mongolia working in Community Youth Development. My adventurer’s spirit told me the universe knows where I should be and what I should be doing. The twenty- six months living in Mongolia were some of the most challenging, exasperating, and meaningful of my life.

    The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.

    Mahatma Gandhi

    Part One: Trials

    By the time one reaches middle age, you come to learn certain facts of life and endure at least a few hardships along the way. When I applied to join the Peace Corps, I had experienced many difficult circumstances in recent years. The year of 2006 was a monumentally heartbreaking one for me, with the loss of my only daughter Victoria in a car accident.

    Grief is always a difficult, heart-rending experience, and losing a child adds another dimension of horror to the loss. We never expect to have one of our children die before us; it upsets our whole notion of the order of the world and life. We grieve not only for the short life they got to live, but for the stolen future, not only for that loved one, but for ourselves.

    Three years on, I chose to shake up my life in a big way. My sons were coping relatively well at this point, and I believed I needed a fresh, never before contemplated challenge in my own life. Grief counseling and the passage of time helped me arrive at a point where the pain of Vicki's loss was 'less raw' and I hadn't had a job I'd really liked in quite a while.

    My quest to figure out what I wanted included many elements, some contemplation and reading, a 'Build Your Own Theology' class at my Unitarian Universalist church and chatting with my girlfriends. It was my friend Linda who first mentioned Peace Corps, and the rest, as they say, is history.

    Chapter 1

    The Peace Corps Application

    My first trial was the bureaucratic mess of papers required for the old school paper Peace Corps application before I even knew I was going to Mongolia. Though fairly computer literate, I felt more comfortable filling out papers. There were mounds and mountains of papers, which arrived in thick manila envelopes. I spent countless hours filling in these papers - all the standard application information, plus residences for past five years, job history for my entire working life (that’s a long time). In addition, there were mini-books full of forms regarding volunteer experience, life experience, and educational experience.

    The stacks of papers kept coming in the mail for months. Once I’d completed a grouping of forms, such as the work, volunteer and life experience, and sent them back to Peace Corps Headquarters in Washington, DC, a fresh batch of forms would soon arrive, crammed into my little mailbox.

    Though my actual education and employment experience would be categorized as social work, I wanted to also play up my dairy farm upbringing and my agriculture knowledge of gardening and plants. This only added to my mountains of papers. Generally I like to think that I am very environmentally conscious, but man, the PC and I together must’ve been responsible for chopping down an entire forest just for my application.

    Once all my preliminary papers had been completed and processed, it was time for the next level of information to be gathered, certified and sent to PC. For my educational portion of the application, I had to obtain and pay for certified transcripts from my university and send copies of my diplomas and degrees.

    As a follow up for the work history and volunteer portion, I needed to obtain three recommendations demonstrating that I was what the PC was looking for and could serve in my capacity as a responsible, caring and competent volunteer. One of these three recommendations was from an employer, one from a volunteer supervisor and one a personal recommendation. I received the sealed questionnaires in the mail, then had to forward them to my selected persons who then had to fill out all the requested information, put them in the envelope provided, seal the envelope and sign it over the sealed flap. This was all very top secret, indeed. I then forwarded these recommendations to the PC. Phew, what a long process this was becoming!

    Since my legal marital status was divorced, I then had to produce any and all official divorce decree documents to send in to PC. I had been married and divorced three times, so it was a big pain to get three sets of papers from different places. Judge me if you must, I know I would, but hey, what can I say? I keep repeating the same mistake trying to get it to work for me. I believe that may be the definition of the word insanity.

    Since I’d made it this far in the process, the next round of forms included many medical tests I had to complete. Among them were a general physical, several blood tests including clearance for HIV/AIDS, an ECG and stress test for my heart since I was already the other side of 50. A mammogram, a pelvic exam, a pap smear, complete dental X-rays and any subsequent needed dental treatment were also on the list. Lacking medical insurance at the time, these costs were all out of pocket. This process was not exactly cheap, as you may have guessed.

    Having jumped through all of these hoops, I was now going to be invited to serve as a volunteer. Getting my fingerprints taken at the local sheriff’s department and mailing the card back to DC to ensure that I didn’t have a criminal record was one of the final steps toward serving. I also had to certify that I did not owe any debts or outstanding loans and was not running away from creditors.

    I’d made it through the process and was invited to serve initially in sub-Saharan Africa, departing the US in August 2010 to work in the agricultural sector. In late April I received a phone call asking if I was interested in working in the community youth development sector. Sure, why not? I responded. And that’s the long and short of how I ended up going to Mongolia and making a 27-month commitment to serve in the United States Peace Corps.

    Chapter 2

    Mongolian Language

    A sample of what Mongolian looks like.... never could read that!

    Some people are really good at languages and have a natural aptitude for being able to discern the nuances of a foreign language. I have always envied anyone who speaks more than one language. It would be a gross understatement to say that I have enough trouble speaking my native tongue English, let alone any ability to learn a second language. Bless the linguists and those with a knack for the ability to learn another language and to communicate with others in their native tongue. I am not one of those people.

    I have always been somewhat on the lazy side, especially as a student having to learn a subject I’m just not that into, or one that doesn’t come fairly easily to me. Somehow I’d managed to get all the way to the age of 53 without ever actually learning a second language. What?! Sure,

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