A Mongolian Snowball

One of the main things I've learned in our first three months in Mongolia is the fact that language learning is an extensive, laborious process which requires marathoner endurance and gymnast strength. I've decided that for the English speaker (at least for this English speaker), learning Mongolian is kind of like attempting to make a snowball out of powder-dry snow. You grab a large scoop of snow in your hands and work with it, and work with it. The majority of what you scoop up doesn't stick and falls to the ground. After a great deal of time and effort - a little bit does stick and you have a very small ice ball to hold on to. So you reach down and scoop up more snow (some that you already possessed, but had fallen off - some new) and continue the process all over again.

There are several nuances to the Mongolian language that I will share here. Most will probably find this rather dull - a couple of our readers may be interested. However, before we left the States we were asked a lot of questions about the Mongolian language. Here are few factoids that may be of interest.

There is quite a bit of difference between the written and spoken form of Mongolian. While this is generally true of all languages, it seems to be obviously true to this language learner. The written form seems to be very precise and specific in relating meaning, grammar, etc. While the spoken form carries the same meaning - it sounds quite different to what is written. For example, to write "I am Buying Milk" would look something like this (I don't have Mongolian Cyrillic font on my computer):

Cyy abch baine

However, this would be pronounced something like this:

Soo avchin

This is just a small example of how different the written form can be from the spoken form of this language.

Mongolian Grammar is rather complicated for the English speaker. We are currently learning the eight possible cases for nouns. We will begin learning the variety of verb forms after Christmas. There are no prepositions. They are replaced by post-positional endings tacked on to a word. So you would say "at my home" by tacking two different endings on to the word for "home". The order of words in the sentence is also very different than English. The verb is always at the end of the sentence. The subject is first (like English), but after that comes the direct and/or indirect objects - which are kept straight with endings, not necessarily word order. Modifiers are also thrown in there, as well. Keeping it all straight is quite different - and difficult - for the English speaker.

The group is more important than the individual in Mongolian culture and this is seen in the language. You would never say "I am going to my school" in Mongolian. It's not "your" school. It is "our school". It's not "my friends", it is "our friends". In fact - the strangest one to me is that even a spouse is grammatically referred to as "our husband" or "our wife". (Just so there's no question - there is no polygamy here!) The thing that I find interesting is that the language reflects a group value that seems to be quite important in this country.

Nature and family are also important subjects. There are literally hundreds of ways to describe a horse. The mountains and the sky and the "countryside" are important concepts in language and song. Even people who live in Ulaanbaatar and rarely leave the city hold a high sense of value and respect for the Mongolian countryside. The language often reflects this, as well. Mongolian songs also speak often of the family. The "ger" (also the Mongolian word for "home") is incredibly important to the overall culture of Mongolia. I think one of the most interesting words I have learned is the word "Golumt" (my very poor transliteration). There's not really an English equivolent. It means the place (physical place) where your family lives. Traditionally, the Mongolian golumt is very important to maintain. It's a concept that some in American culture could relate to. Renee's family has been in the same place since she was very small. She can go home to a place that she knows and remembers. Most of us Americans have moved around the country enough for this to be a very unfamiliar concept. However, it is a very important one to Mongolians in general.

I know this has probably been a boring read for most of you who have made it this far. However, I wanted to share with you some of the things we are attempting to get our minds around. Pray for Renee' and I as we go through the incedibly tedious process of making a Mongolian snowball. Pray for the others on our team in this process, as well. Everyone on the team has a bigger snowball than we do. However, no one is ready to make a snow man, yet.

Here is a picture of our Mongolian language teacher (our "baxsh"). Her name is "Tuul". Her daughter's name is "Mongol-Jin". This means "Mongolian Princess". At this gathering we had just finished our first cycle of study and testing. Renee' and I were somewhat pleased that we could almost communicate with a two year old. Almost.