There are very few things Peace Corps Volunteers across the world have in common. In country jargon is one. “Hey, my CP invited a couple of minii PCV naiz over to her khasaa for some buuz cause my HCA’s on break!” (My English teacher invited a couple of my friends over to her house for dumplings while my school’s on break!) A second is the constant greeting of small children in either the local, or English language. Some volunteers quickly grow tired of the bombardment of “Hi teacher”, “Hello Teacher” “Caina uu bagshaa”. I’m still at a point where it makes me feel special, or at the very least amused. On the two minute walk from my delguur to school, I have, on average, fifteen students smile with excitement at the chance to utter a greeting to the American.
Today, a new level of familiarity was reached. While I was squatting in my school’s outhouse, seven children, one by one, came up and greeted me through the one inch crack between door and wall. I don’t take that long to relieve myself. And there aren’t that many people hanging around the jorlon. So I feel a sense of pride that students are willing to look through the outhouse door cracks just to be able to say “hello!” to their very own teacher.