It’s snowing this morning.
I stay huddled in my room. At least it’s good working weather.
Taking an experimental route to my first Mongolian class at Nom-Ekhe at 2pm, I regret my decision when I arrive there late. No-one else is late and I infer that it’s important to be punctual.
My teacher is friendly, but seems doubtful that I can learn enough to get by in only 2 weeks. Nevertheless she’ll do her best.
She sends me home with a handful of A4 photocopies to revise. On the way, I stop at the supermarket to buy 4 large cans of Del Monte Tropical Fruit. They’ll be eaten, eventually, but their function right now is to prop up my work desk – my posture is suffering terribly from bending over all the time.
Plastering my wall with yellow sticky notes, I allocate one to each character of the Mongolian Cyrillic alphabet. I’m not quite sure why I didn’t do this in Russia. Ok, I didn’t actually have my own wall there, but it would have made a world of different to be able to understand the world around me.