Literature and scones

The other night I had a long talk with Dwan, my sitemate, about my work frustrations. I was feeling exhausted from work, but at the same time, feeling like I wasn't doing much. After our talk over coffee (REAL coffee) at the touristy spot in Kharkhorin, we horse hitchhiked our way back home from two herders. Haha. We rode back home in the moonlight as our two new Mongolian friends sang to us. I had this surreal moment where I just couldn't help but think, "This is my life. Wow. My life is purely amazing." Despite all of my frustrations, life is good. I still have yet to think about going home. As I walked into my ger, I made a fire and settled into my bed with my latest (one of three) book, Lolita in Tehran. The first thing I read was this quote by Henry James:

"We work n the dark - we do what we can - we give what we have. Our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task. The rest is the madness of art."

At first, I felt this intense sense of comfort. I found myself in this quote- at first- because I envisioned myself in the dark, swinging from these ropes that make up the school system. I'm hanging onto one, then another, trying to shine a little bit of light from my Peace Corps issued phone's flashlight, though I still can't see if this rope is secure. I still can't see how to untangle these knots that I feel all around me. I'm doing what I can. I'm giving all my strength despite my moments of doubt that I won't help much. I strive to combat this doubt.

"The rest is the madness of art" I try to connect this to the first part of the quote and my initial response, though I'm not sure. Aside from my struggles, something purely honest and true will develop. I think that maybe one day, I'll just find myself in this beautiful piece of art that is my life, and realize that I'm truly helping. Beauty is free-flowing- something that doesn't have to be/shouldn't be contrived by strained work. Art is art because it just is. It is truthful in its honesty and lack of necessity. I find these two ideas to be a bit separate, though maybe a year from now I will have found their connection.

I feel like now is the real start of my education. I'm in the midst of reading Lolita in Tehran, an International World Politics textbook, and a book on Buddhism. I read them because I want to and because I'm not distracted by television or a bumping social life. ha. What has really been a blessing is that I have time to let my mind wander and simply be curious. I'm curious about areas that I never was before. I kick myself thinking about how I complained in high school biology class because we were gardening when it was lightly sprinkling. Now I think about how cool it was that we were planting vegetables and how lame I was. I wish I could go back and re-learn those things. Since there are random textbooks lying around Mongolia, I'm sure I'll take on a biology one some time in the future. Dwan and I want to start a mini book club. We want to discuss literature together because it is an interest we both have. I'm really excited about it. Hopefully, we can have a mini writing club too.

I have to share my mini story about Chocka. Chocka is my six year old neighbor who I am quite obsessed with. I catch brief conversations with him when he is hanging out on the top of the shed next to my fence. He has a shaved head and snot is always running down his face. Part of the reason I love this kid has to be because of his name. I just love yelling, "CHOCKA, you hij ban?!" (Chocka, what are you doing?!" Well, the other day I met him in the street as he was carrying a water jug to the well station. I told him I was making cookies (because I didn't know how to say scones in Mongolian. ha) after I bought flour from the store I was on my way to. He was very interested in this and I ended up inviting him to my ger. We made scones together and I played my American music for him. I must be going crazy because I really want this precious little six year old to be my friend. I think it's partly because I feel very comfortable speaking to kids in Mongolian. Anyways, that was my Friday night!