Roland Russoli in Mongolia

August 22, 2006
Sarah was tending to LeeAnne's last night in town, but I felt compelled to attend my boss Auggie's (Orkhon Gantogtokh ) apartment warming party. In attendence were Auggie, her husband Suhkbaatar ( axe hero, great name), her mother, 2 aunts and accompanying husbands ( one of which was just awarded the " best professor of Inner Mongolia" (China) award.

As I sat in the middle of this group ( Americ's sometimes get seats of honor), I was first given a bowl of airag ( fermented mare's milk) that was large enough in which to bathe. I started to nibble on something that looked safe when Auggie's mother cut off a slab of mutton from the sheep carcass in the middle of the table and picked it up with her bare hand and put it in my bowl. She then proceeded to pick up carrots, onions, and potatoes in the same manner and piled them on top. You never have to worry about not enough serving utensils in Mongolia, hands are always available . It was time for the first toast ( to the professor's award) and a mug of home made mare's milk vodka was poured for everyone. The closest I can come to a description of mare's milk vodka would be if I filtered diesel fuel through a loaf of bread that would come really close to the taste. After several other toasts and more hot food ( bootz which are dumplings filled with mutton, which is usually from sheep who have reached Social Security age ) it was then time to sing. The first four songs were in Russian, then one in Chinese, four in Mongolian and then they all turned and stared at me. I said what do you want me to sing . they said "you are Italian, sing something in Italian". This reminded me of friends over the years asking me about throwing pizza's or fixing tile floors. Italians are stereotyped in that they are all suppose to be able to throw a pizza dough, do tile work, and speak the native tongue fluently.........this is not true. However, as luck would have it my father did teach me two songs , one about Garibaldi ( Italy's war hero )and the other about Wine, Grapes, and Lovers, both songs were a hit, even the second time when my turn came up again, after three more toasts and six more songs. Finally the home made brew done, they opened my housewarming gift of Chinngis Gold vodka, the taste of which was so smooth that it prompted three more toasts in succession even one to the sheep who had given up his life for this feast. Auggie's mother , keeping a close watch on my bowl, said I had to clean all the meat off of the bone or it was bad luck. I was in the process of eating some pineapple( to try to settle my stomach) and I told her it was a Hawaiian tradition that all the pineapple had to be eaten or the same bad luck would follow. She helped me finish the fruit. I kept covering my airag bowl, home made vodka mug and vodka glass during most of the refills or they would have carried me out of there on a Mongolian shield. I said that I really needed to leave so Auggie's sister Tuul who I work with at the school walked me through the neighborhood. She said she needed to do that because sometimes the people who live in the sewers have been known to pop out of the manholes and attack passersby in that neighborhood. She flagged down a cab and I was on my way home, ready to explain to Sarah how " I'll just be staying at the housewarming for twenty minutes because I really don't want to drink" had some how become a four hour adventure.

The picture shows just some of the new Peace Corps volunteers at the swearing in ceremony that we went to on Saturday. The outfits are made by their host families where they will be working for two years. In total there are over 100 Peace Corps volunteers working in Mongolia. Some in health care, some in environmental issues but most are English teachers who are working in areas where usually qualified teachers do not exist. All of them optimistic, wide eyed and ready to make a difference in the world. They are a good group and they make America proud.
Strength and Honor,
Roland

August 11, 2006
Saturday has been an interesting day. The Sisters of the Notre Dame Orphanage invited us to picnic with them in the countryside. So two Sisters, a priest, two Mongolian babysitters, LeeAnne, Sarah and I with about 24 children ( hard to count they kept moving) makes for quite a picnic.Balls flying everywhere, food flying everywhere, dirty diapers, kids falling in the mud ( oh yes we were by a river), competing for toys & attention, walking between the horses and cows, walking through the pasture muffins, everybody having to go to the bathroom at the same time ( lots of dancing holding themselves with that one) sometimes not making it.

Lord have mercy what a day! We brought ice cream and hot dogs ( I think their first), they supplied the laughs. Our thanks to Charles and Lee Huff who just sent a box of sweaters, blankets and hats all hand knitted from the ladies of their church in High Point, great job ladies.
Pictures of this big picnic day will follow.
Tired but still kicking,
Roland

We handed out all of the ice creams then realized that the Sisters wanted bibs on all of them.

The little girl was as sweet as could be and got out of the car and gave me a hug and kiss, the little boy is Joseph who was found as a baby by the police in a garbage can.

(Left) The baby that the ever cheerful Eubert is kissing is Epiphany , a little boy whose mother stayed drunk through out the pregnancy. Fetal alcohol syndrome is a definite possibility with this child as it is with several others at the orphanage. Alcoholism is a large contributing cause of children being dropped off on the doorstep of Notre Dame and a huge problem among the poor of Mongolia. (Right) The little girl on the left in the white hat is Pumay and this was one of the few times that she smiled on Saturday. She usually never smiles. Epiphany is her brother. She was dropped off at the orphanage first then her mother returned a year later with her new brother. It is doubtful that they even know at this point that they are related since they only saw each other for the first time at Notre Dame.

Out of the original 5 Sisters, these are the only two remaining, the others have been called to different places . Notre Dame has about 6 missions in other places including the slum areas of Niger, Haiti and Chicago.

Some just ate bread with ketchup, some just ate the dogs, Eubert ate everything, and other peoples as well. When you pick him up its like picking up a car battery

Betilda is yet another child who may suffer from fetal alcohol syndrome. But she is cute and is usually ready with a smile.

(Left) Sharing is always hard. (Right) There were cows and horses all over the place and several times the children tried to walk through them to either get to where the food was located or where Father Antoine was trying to show some of the children how to fish ( metal pole with a wooden pole with some fishing line attached and at least 6 children continuously getting tangled in the line) I really have to buy that man a fishing rod. When several of them found themselves surrounded by livestock they usually started to scream which would send one of us to the rescue.

Eubert if you remember was the child that has the lazy eye. To give you all an update. Sarah took him to a specialist he was given eyeglasses and an eye patch. He didn't have them on during the picnic because he had run into a dresser and cut the side of his eye. Sarah is arranging for an eye operation when the glasses and patch correct the eye a little more which will correct the lazy eye. The operation over here will only cost $200. but we will cover it.

Leopold ( in the yellow shirt ) always helps the babies get dressed , puts on their coats and ties their shoes. He is nine years old and suffers from neurofibromatosis which tumors have formed on his spine. Gambat had rickets as child and could barely walk when he came to Notre Dame. He now keeps up with the rest of them and is only hampered by a slightly deformed arm. They way the two of them play and interact with the others you would never know anything was wrong. Both are like big brothers to the others and are always quick to help out.

July 16, 2006
In July, when everyone is going out to the Nadaam Festival ( The 3 Manly Sports) wrestling, horse racing, and archery, and the dust and the crowds are all over the place, it is time to get out of town. We went on an 875 mile, 5 day trip in a yellow taxicab with our driver Jacendortch ( Jack). On the dirt roads we travelled we lived every mile. We saw two lakes, Tsaagan Nuur ( White Lake ) and Ugii Nurr and I can now say that I have fished lakes in the remotest part of the world and still didn't catch anything. I would bite at my very attractive lures but the fish just laugh so much for the "cable fishing channel."

The country of Mongolia is amazing, mile after mile of flat, green land surrounded by mountains. The dust was in every part of us and our backpacks. We were especially dirty since the last night on the road our hotel didn't have any showers. We visited several old monastaries that once held 1,000 monks each. When the Socialists came to power in the 1930 they purged the monks and 30,000 in number all over Mongolia were either shot or sent to Siberia, never to be heard from again. The Socialists under Stalin with the Mongolian General Choibalsan (who was his lacky) killed all of the priests ( Lam's) and many scholars, and leaders. Interesting way to progress.

Only several of the monasteries were left intact including Gandan in Ulaanbaatar, to show the world their religious tolerance I am sure. Their is a statue to Choibalsan in UB it seems in this part of the world the powerful get statues, no matter what deeds brought them to that prominence. We visited an 8,000 year old extinct volcano ( fire mountain to Jack), with fire mountain stones (lava) spread for miles around from the explosion that took off half of the mountain. In the Ger Camp at White Lake we rode horses Sarah and Lee Anne both had riding lessons and I had watched hundreds of westerns. My legs were black and blue, their's were not, but I didn't fall off my horse so those movies helped.

On the road, Jack found us some ruins from 800AD ( Jack said they were Chinngis Khan's nephew's but the dates are a few hundred years off ) I bought an arrowhead (12th Century) from the curator (or some guy who just saw us coming and stood at the door with his hand out), for 5,000 Tugregs ( $ 4.27) I am sure it is authentic it is rusty, always a sure sign of authenticity. On the road as we passed the "ger camps", the children came running out with their bottles of airag (fermented mare's milk, yes that would be from a horse) I couldn't resist, even though Jack said if I drank a bottle it would cleanse me to my very soul or so to speak. I kept drinking it, to determine the taste and I believe the closest, I can come to a description is a taste of slightly fermented skim milk. It is slightly alcoholic and when we came across the shepherd family shearing the sheep with hand tools, Sarah gave him one of the bottles we purchased. He was delighted for we purchased it in an area known for it's excellent airag. The shepherds wife brought us a plate of curds with sheep butter-cream to spread. We thought it an unusual taste, again a slightly fermented parmesan taste but a very popular dish among the Mongolians and I did go back for seconds. Previously, Little Miss Moffett was the only curd eater I had ever known now I am one myself. Speaking of Miss Moffett, the ger camp at White Lake had so many spiders that Sarah had to move across to the other side of the ger because of the number of them on the tent wall which is only inches from one's face. All and all it was a very interesting trip although it would have been better in a vehicle more substantial than a taxicab but Jack was a great guide with an infectious laugh and it is a very earthy way to experience this strange land.
Strength and Honor, Roland

Even though a substantial person is standing in front of the ruins they are still somewhat visible. There is a layer of mud, then rock, then mud then slate.
Doesn't seem like it would be worth anything in the way of weathering the seasons but considering this is Mongolia and considering the walls have been there since 800AD I would say the buyer shouldn't ask for his money back from the builder. There were 3 piles of rocks that were suppose to be the previous owners graves .......... but who knows it could be Elvis.

At every ger children would come running out trying to sell the bottles of airag. Airag and Arow (curds) which are two of the few cash products that they can sell.

The Mongolian horses are smaller than many other breeds. Chinngis Khan's men would ride them for hundreds of miles, drink their milk, when necessary open a vein in their necks and drink their blood then close the vein with a hot knife. Mongolians are called the " People of the Horse" just like our Native American Indians which I am convinced were both related. Apparently many words of Navaho and Mongolian are the same. Remember the typee's of the reindeer people.......look familiar ???

In the pristine beauty of Mongolia you can get lost for an instant, as you look at the setting sun at 10:00 PM, looking across Tsaagan Nuur. Despite the beauty, you are confronted by the harsh reality that it is July 2006 and on the 20th of this very month, Andrew would have celebrated his 22nd year.

June 5, 2006

I was wondering how much Gilbey's Gin and tonic I could add to this ice cube. Now you know why fishing wasn't a really big activity on our list to do at this fresh water lake. I actually filled up a plastic water bottle with lake water and drank. It was the purest cleanest water I have ever seen. This lake has 3% of the worlds fresh water and parts of the lake are suppose to be 100 miles deep. Over the years the Russians used it as a highway to get into Mongolia, 40 oil tanker trucks have disappeared into the lake over the years. Russians have never been big on environmental issues.

One of these walked with us as we hiked through the woods. What a great dog it just keep circling around us every time we stopped and just walked 6 feet in front of us just scanning the woods for any movement, very alert hunters. Felt secure that if a wolf did show up this dog could take it. The Mongolian dogs are identified by the marks above the eyes making them look like they have 4 eyes. (and they don't even have to wear glasses to get that nickname)

June 4, 2006
The first day at the camp our host gave us his card. On the card among other things was horseback riding and I asked about it. He said " you want horse" I said "maybe later in the week". The next morning a Mongolian horseman in traditional dress (dell) showed up with two saddled horses. since we were heading out to hike in the woods I said " no horses today". That night I mentioned to the host that we were ready to ride he said " no, no horses tomorrow reindeer people". I said how about in the afternoon and again "no no horses reindeer people." I guess you are not suppose to refuse horses when offered. So one hour ride in the Russian jeep up into mountains and we see the famous " reindeer people" who have lived as they do for hundreds of years. Living in tepee's on dirt floors, living off their herds with absolutely nothing that would be considered luxury. It was a man and woman and 25 reindeer (one calf was killed the night before by a wolf ). One of the dogs had a gash across his eye and his face was swollen from the wolf biting him. She was very sweet , she gave us bowls of reindeer milk tea and fried bread and told us about her 6 children and 7 grandchildren who lived in various places. She said she was 50 and when I told her my age she pinched my cheek and said I only looked 51 that is the picture where we both are laughing. We stayed for about an hour petted reindeer, bought some carved reindeer antler souvenirs drove back down the mountain, what a road. Thank you all for the many Memorial Day notes I did appreciate them. As I told several of you it seems as though everyday is Memorial Day. There was once a small boy watching his father pack for a journey. the father was going to a new place and the family would follow when they could. The father wanted the little boy to anticipate the move so he told him about the pine cones in this new place. He told him that if he concentrated very hard he would be able to smell them already. Before he fell asleep the boy assured the father that he indeed could smell them so far off and looked forward to seeing them for himself. I thought of this story as I walked through the forest of fir trees with the blanket of pine needles so thick it made the forest totally silent. Walking through such a place seeing the pine cones hanging in the air like so many memories, ready to fall to the ground, valued then to be used (as we did) as kindling to start the fire that begins to warm another day. I hope that you are enjoying your spring and anticipating each tomorrow. Can you smell the pine cones.........can you ? Strength and Honor, Roland

June 4, 2005

Mongolian airlines are as unpredictable as Mongolian weather. We planned a trip to Lake Khovsgol, a flight that should have taken about one hour and thirty minutes with an additional two and a half hour jeep ride to the ger camp. The road was typical with no paving, plenty of rocks, just an old, country, washboard road that went through old river beds, forests, and grasslands and made your kidneys feel like they were hit with a baseball bat. Especially when you are riding in a twenty year old Russian jeep. We left Ulaanbaatar at 12:00 PM and arrived at the camp 10 hours later at 10:00 PM. The camp was called Khovsgol Dalai and boasted (in Lonely Planet Mongolia) of hot water (at certain times sometimes 3PM sometimes 8PM), a sauna (by candlelight because the generator didn't work for the lights) and clear, pure, lake water which was a definite especially when you washed your face in the morning (notice the ice in the picture). The food was good but lacked a sense of balance and variety. The menu for lunches and dinner were as follows: yak w/ clear noodles, yak stew, yak w/ carrots and potatoes, yak w/ cabbage, yak w/ spaghetti (Italian night), yak w/ noodles in soup (3 times), roasted yak w/ whole carrots and potatoes, and fish soup w/ fish appetizer. The only reason we had the fish was a bag of them were given to me the night before by several Mongolian fisherman who felt sorry for me that I hadn't caught any with my fly rod. They didn't bother with the art of fly fishing they just threw in a forty foot net and hauled away. Fishing is illegal until June ( I didn't catch any ) and fishing with a net is called poaching which is illegal all the time. Maybe they felt guilty and wanted to share their guilt.

May 23, 2006
Today is my birthday. I am 62 years old and the horrible thought that I can and will collect social security benefits, is only balanced by that fact that such payments will finance a relatively comfortable existence in remote and exotic 3rd world places for years to come. This has been a tough year and a half for the Russoli's. I lost my brother Henry to cancer, my son Andrew to war, and my sweet cousin Carol to a malady of which we are not sure. Sarah and I have spent almost an entire year in Mongolia. We have made it through the cold ( 45 degrees below 0) of our first Mongolian winter. Have survived the digestive traumas of the fatty, greasy Mongolian food as well as the incredible isolation of living on this far off planet where English is hardly ever spoken.

So what do I learn from this experience as difficult emotionally and physically as it has been? To tell you the answer to this question, it is necessary to reveal the bit of Russoli's lore that Jr
and Andrew, use to joke about concerning me, their father. The first is when Roland Jr. was trying to determine his course of college studies, I suggested my favorite, archeology. His response to this suggestion was " nah.... all the good stuff has been found", which ended that conversation. The second, was when ever Jr. or Andrew were going off to school, or a trip, or even to war, I would always say " now you take care of yourself and don't do anything stupid".

So with that information in mind, we come to a summary of what I have learned this year and indeed in my 62 year journey on this earth . It comes in the form of an inscription that was in a small black notebook that I received as a birthday gift in 2003. The notebook, was one of those onion skin journals, that have been kept in the pockets of travelers and writers for the last 100 years. The inscription reads:

5/23/03
Over the last 18 years, you have told me story upon story of your experiences. My only wish is that you write down all of them in this journal, no matter how short or long they may be. I have learned so much from all of them, they have prepared me for the life ahead of me. All the good stuff has not been found, don't do anything stupid and never stop exploring. I love you
Happy Birthday
Love,
Andrew
" what we do in this life, echos in eternity"

Today is May 23. 2006 another spring day in Mongolia and it is snowing. So on this my birthday, to all of my friends and family remember these words " all the good stuff has not been found, don't do anything stupid, and never stop exploring."
Love, Strength and Honor,
Roland

May 11, 2006
May The White House has finally sent the picture of our visit last December. That seems like a long time ago, but this is a much better view than the last picture.
This was taken in the hallway that the four of us walked down.

May 8, 2006
Many of you had asked for a picture taken from our apartment. On this Monday May 8, 2006 what you see is not a reflection of the camera . It is in fact snowing on this spring day my first work day back in Mongolia. What you are looking at are 1950's Russian built apartment buildings in a variety of cheerful colors. Enjoy your day and when you let the blast of air conditioning from your car hit you in the face remember, my spring picture to you.

May 5, 2006
These last 23 days have been a blur as well as an emotional roller coaster. I apologize to any and all, who I was suppose to call back or eat lunch. For a number of reasons it was very hectic. I ate my way through 2 states with dozens of doughnuts from Egypt Star, pizza and beer at Greg's Liberty Tavern, eggs and grits at Our House,Green Valley Grill, Lucky 32 etc,etc.
I must thank Janet Ward and Gerard for being family in Greensboro and providing the " fortress of solitude" which I so sorely needed. In Allentown, as well as Greensboro there were friends and family who had yet to grieve with me about Andrew. On Easter Sunday at church the song from Andrew's funeral service was played (" I was there to hear your borning cry") I have come to hate that song, it tears me in half. Then in Andrew's room , going through and organizing his things. The possessions of an unfinished life. Looking at all of his childhood pictures on the wall and not being able to separate them from the 6 foot marine known by his marine friends as "Rusty" who was in battles and saw death beyond our imagination. Then walking into Ham's Restaurant at Brassfield and seeing a memorial shadowbox above the bar that his friends put together, which rendered me speechless. His friends stood and greeted me and invited me to sit with them and we laughed and talked about Andrew and 3 beers and 5 shots later I couldn't feel my legs. Sixty-one year old men shouldn't really try drinking with twenty-one year olds. Luckily my Baptist preacher friend and brother Michael took me home.

I was touched by them all........so respectful and so good to honor Andrew's memory. When Roland Jr. and I took his motorcycle in for servicing , the young man behind the counter (Charlie) reminded me that he was there for the shots and beers and showed me his tattoo " Strength and Honor 10202005" inside a sunburst. He told me that the group at Ham's had become closer since Andrew............life is fragile even for the young. I really enjoyed my time with Roland Jr. We shared at least 1/2 dozen meals together, and laughed, cried, planned, and did what we have always done best, enjoy one another and our favorite sport, going to movies. We saw three in a week I saw an additional two. The morning I was leaving, there at the top of the escalator was an airport policeman, Seth, who sold Andrew the red mustang. There with a ready handshake and good luck and yet another Strength and Honor tattoo and yet another reminder about the "beers and
shots night".

On the plane ride from Seoul, Korea to Ulaanbaatar,the flight attendant gave me a bag of peanuts that had obviously been chewed by some kind of creature, I looked and handed it back to her smiling and said " welcome back to Mongolia" I was the last person to leave the airport, my bags came off the conveyer belt dead last. After leaving Greensboro at 7:00AM Wednesday I walked into our apartment 1:30AM Thursday.....what a trip. Sarah will be home tonight. I look forward to that, for she is my anchor and calms the storms in my heart. Today is a new day for all of us, and it is the task that we are all given in this life to make it our own great adventure. Love, Strength and Honor to you all, Roland

April 11, 2006
So at 1:20 AM the Korean Airliner is beginning to taxi on the runway when the electrical system shorts out. All the passengers on board in the dark , all hoping that this doesn't happen at 30,000 feet. After multiple attempts the engine starts, he takes her down the runway ( not unlike once around the block) makes a U turn and takes off. " Hello this is the captain speaking we had and electrical glitch but, everything seems to be fine now." I think it was the " it seems to be " that gave me pause. The trip was uneventful except for the male steward asking what we wanted for the meal that was served at 2:30AM , whatever that would be called.

April 4, 2006

Dear Friends
The city's steam heat ( our radiator heat) gets turned off on April 15, because it is Spring. In anticipation of the event, I left my sweater, scarf, gloves, and warm cashmere hat in the apartment and opted for lighter gear. Of course, it was snowing before I walked the two blocks to the main street. It is my understanding that it occasionally snows in July, which makes the title " the coldest capital in the world" not hard to imagine. Not much changes in Ulaanbaatar, this morning was the usual traffic jam with two lanes both ways, jammed tight and the intersection totally locked. To paraphrase the movie " Thunderdome" the only rule in UB traffic is there are no rules." When my driver got tired of blowing his horn he followed the line of cars that drove up on to the sidewalk leaving pedestrians running for their lives.

Twentythree children were hit by cars last week in UB, adults are not counted ( they don't want to scare away the tourists). Sarah is traveling south towards the Gobi Desert to visit volunteers on this day, and I have started to pack for my trip to Greensboro. I will leave on Tuesday April 11th at 1:20 AM fly 3 hours to Seoul, Korea, wait on a 7 1/2 hour layover, then a 12 hour flight to Chicago, 2 more hours of layover, then another 3 hours to Greensboro which puts me in Greensboro at exactly 5:00 PM on Tuesday April 11th. Yes, it confuses me too, but now you know why, after that flight you look and feel like you have been run over by a herd of camels.

In twelve days, Christians all over the world will celebrate Easter, although in UB there are no
chocolate bunnies, jelly beans, or marshmellow peeps to be found. This Easter, I will lay a wreath of flowers on my son Andrew's grave. My understanding of this season will be deepened by my own lament. The Christian God lost a Son and from His Son's resurrection, a faith was born. I have lost " the little boy in a tree", who grew to manhood, died, and became a hero. This is all part of life, as difficult as it is, if we live long enough we will all share in the sorrows of this world.

On this Easter 2006, may we all have a better understanding of our own sacrifices. Let it make us better people and allow it to birth something inside of us, that will inspire and comfort the world around us.
Strength and Honor,
Roland

March 11, 2006
My students took Sarah and I out to dinner last friday night and on saturday Sarah and I alternated between Zantac and Tums to relieve the discomfort. I had the Kuhblai ( Chinngis's grandson of Marco Polo fame) Steak which consisted of mustard, meat and onions and Sarah had fish which, smelled like it was stored in a shoe box for a day or two before cooking. The food in Mongolia is as bad as the weather. They do not cook with any spices ( recently a pasta special in a restaurant turned out to be broiled meat over pasta with no sauce or spices.) You would think I would be thin from fare this but since Sarah is a great cook and in this place cheese is the snack of the day, we do better eating at home. I have also expanded my cooking skills such as the sliced beef covered with onions and mushrooms that I made special for Woman's Day. Woman's Day is a big day in Mongolia when the men are suppose to give gifts, clean the house and make the meals. As one of my Mongolian men students said "for one day a year I can clean and cook just to keep peace in my house". Mongolian men are not noted for their domestic skills, in fact when asked the Mongolian women usually say "they drink and smoke too much and they are lazy".

Bad news from our Vermont camp. Vandals on snowmobiles broke into our cabin and busted out the front and side windows and mostly threw the contents of the place upside down. The windows were sort of antique diamond shaped and very pretty, it is a shame. There wasn't really a lot to steal, except for some items that would be sentimental to Sarah but, from here, there is no way of knowing what is missing until we get up there, which will not be possible for another year. We will have to rely on several workman, we know in the area to take care of it. It all could have been worse, they might have burned the place down which really would have been tragic. Sarah spent a many of her childhood summers in this place, which rests on top of a beautiful mountain near the town of Chelsea, Vermont. Last we heard the State Police and local sheriff ( Barney with one bullet ) had some leads especially since the snow mobiles have trouble covering their tracks in fresh snow.

I am told that it has been 76 degrees. in Greensboro. It snowed again last night, actually the third time this week and temperatures still hover around 0. Earlier in the week my students said "oh its spring".The people of Mongolia have never had a real spring. Spring to them,is not having a wind that rips your face half off. They say that when the real cold 10-40 degrees below 0 stops, then the real spring begins with a lot of dust ( no daffodils in this neighborhood) and a lot of strong winds to blow the dust up your nose. Then comes summer with scorching dry heat and more wind and dust going up your nose. The reason that Chinngis Khan conquered the world was not that he was such a great leader but rather that he was just angry for being born in this place. May your spring daffodils brighten your day !

I think I saw a brown weed left from last year on the sidewalk...kinda cheerful for Mongolia.

Strength and Honor,

Roland

March 2, 2006

My volunteer job at the mission has changed ( thank God). I am no longer in charge of the men's shower. I have been promoted to "tutor de jour". The class of 5 of the orphans and 6 underprivileged children from the neighborhood are my new students, as well as Father Antoine, and Sister's Marie Benedict and Marie Patricia. It is definitely a step up from monitoring 15 to 20 homeless men, at least 8 of which you could count on to have come from "happy hour".

I thank the person on this list who collected 2 huge boxes of baby clothes shoes, and toys with 2 more boxes on the way, the babies will be "styling" this week. Sarah is checking on an eye doctor for Eubert ( who is in the front of the group pic ). As you can see he certainly has fixed his smile which seemed to be broken and now we must work on his eyes.

Roland Jr. once said that " drag queens were nature's Prozac". I believe that the orphans of Notre Dame serve nature in the same way. It is impossible to be sad of distressed when you enter their presence. I would think that to be abandoned on a street corner is one demon that fed on all of our childhood fears. These abandoned children have learned the secrets that some of us never learn. They have learned the art of being in the moment and enjoying life in every breath. The memory of parents walking away or abusing has been replaced with the moments of laughter and song and yes even tears, that they willingly share with one and all.

This is still a hard road to travel. In the dark back seat of a cab ride home or a walk along a secluded side street, I am still haunted by dreams and events of a future that will forever remain in the shadows. Yesterday, was Ash Wednesday and tradition dictates that we give up something for Lent. I use to give up lima beans but now that I have matured this years Lenten sacrifice has now been changed to mare's milk and roasted marmot.

I really don't know if our journeys are enhanced by denying ourselves some delicacy, sometimes I feel as though we sacrifice enough by just living. The season of Lent is one of personal reflection and repentance, and with that, I would hope that all of us continue to open our hearts and our minds to the opportunities of service that abound aside us, around us and beyond.

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