Age 16, has always lived in orphanages   click to read or close full bio >>

September 2011: Vannie returns to school in South Gobi   click to read or close >>

Since my last trip in April, I had barely been in touch with Batbileg, who’s nicknamed Vannie. Through Khooso, I heard that he was doing well, but without Sara, I had no means to send or receive letters from Vannie directly. Not that Vannie is an avid writer, his letters rarely contained more than two sentences, but it was a way to keep personal contact. It is also my way of getting information to the kids, and keeping communication alive, even if it’s one–way only!

Vannie had nothing to go on but my promise, which wasn’t really a promise, as I always make sure to include a disclaimer. I’d hate nothing more than to pump up their expectations and then disappoint them, so I always include " I will try my best to do this & that, at this & that time, but I can’t guarantee anything." By now, they know and understand. Furthermore, Vannie’s expectations of me might be very low, as he must have felt a bit like a tag–along. Baaskaa is always the first who voices interest, concerns, needs, and therefore he’s the first I take care of. Vannie doesn’t say much, so there is a lot of guesswork on my end. Over the last years, I’ve asked repeatedly if he’d like to return to school and he’s repeatedly declined, until last spring, when I couldn’t do anything about it, as it was the middle of the semester.

While back in New York I tried to find a school for Vannie – well, I reminded everyone to try to find a school. Our options looked bleak. A new law required students to have completed ninth grade in order to enter vocational school. Vannie had only completed 6th grade, before he ran away from his last orphanage at the age of 14. Naleikh wasn’t an option anymore; the care center kids, who were gracefully accepted, often without meeting the requirements, had taken advantage of the situation and stretched the teachers and principal’s good will beyond repair. Ayurzaa, Khosoo and Selenge truly scrambled to find a school and for a moment, I felt I wouldn’t be able to keep my semi promise. I decided to return to Mongolia anyway, hoping for a miracle. Upon my arrival, Khosoo presented me with good news; he had found a school in a mining town in Gobi, specializing in heavy machinery, and they agreed to accept Vannie. Khosoo’s construction company was building a new dormitory for the school and he had befriended the principal, who’d agreed to help, when he heard Vannie’s story. At the end, it was all about finding that good–hearted principal again.

When we left Vannie behind last spring, I sensed that he was unsure what to believe – would I come back for him? Because of the lack of communication, I had no way of informing him in advance, all I could do was drive out to the countryside and tell him in person. Vannie was surprised to see Khosoo and me. When Khosoo laid out the plan, or "option", that Vannie would enroll in a vocational school in Gobi, he couldn’t even finish the sentence before Vannie said "Yes!". When I added that we would leave that day, he jumped up to get his belongings. He truly wanted to go back to school and learn a profession.

Vannie and I spent a night in my guesthouse. It was the first time we were alone, without Baaskaa, and Vannie was surprisingly relaxed. He didn’t seem bothered that we had no way of proper communication. With content, he read the book I brought for him and seemed quite comfortable when I took him out for dinner. I think I underestimated Vannie’s strength, mainly because he is always quiet and I confused that with shyness.

Khosoo wasn’t able to escort us to Gobi, so he sent his 16–year old son Temuulen as translator. At the crack of dawn, the three of us climbed into a rattling Russian bus to begin our 16–hour journey to Gobi. I was the only foreigner, as usual, and people kept staring (which might have had something to do with the camera I was holding!). But when it came to pushing and shoving, or placing a baby or oversized bag on someone’s lap, my fellow passengers didn’t make much of a distinction between a Mongolian and me. Having just stepped off the plane after a 32–hour travel day, I thought I would never survive this bus ride. But I did. And I would do it again, because it was such an extreme experience of being fully engulfed in another culture. Beyond that, whenever I thought I needed to get off the bus, all I had to do was look at Vannie. His hopeful expression would have propelled me go to China and back, if that’s what it would have taken to get him into a school.

We arrived in Dalanzadad, South Gobi, in the middle of the night. The next morning we went straight to the school to meet with the principal, who had agreed to give Vannie a chance, even though he lacked the educational requirements that were implemented recently.

To my surprise, I discovered that the school was a regular high school, which also offered a vocational program. Vannie will enter the 10th grade and within two and a half years, if he manages to catch up, he’ll be able to obtain a high school diploma and a specialized professional degree in the field of mining. After an extended absence from school, he’ll have to become re–accustomed to the tight schedule and requirements of schooling, while learning to operate heavy machinery and catching up on the courses he lacks.

Vannie is not a boy of many words, but I could see that he was excited and not a bit scared. He says he can do it and I believe him. I have the feeling he understands that this is pretty much his one – if not only – chance to be recognized for what he has to offer, rather then being defined by what he lacks.

Because we had half a day for leisure time, I decided to be a tourist for once. I had always dreamed about visiting the famous sand dunes in Gobi - although I didn’t necessarily see myself approaching them by bus! After a 6-hour ride in a Russian jeep, instead of the promised 3 hours, we finally arrived when the sun was almost disappearing behind the dunes. We quickly ran to the top of the dunes and wrote our names in the sand, - a Mongolian tradition - before the sky turned completely dark.

Surprisingly – or maybe not – Vannie kept moving from spot to spot, writing his name, just to cover it with fresh sand, again and again. I kept watching him, wondering how I could explain to him that this situation would be permanent, that one day, he’d have a home of his own, populated with people who would stick around and he’d discover that it would be worth staying. I stayed silent though, as I was afraid to promise him something I did not know for sure.

October 2010: Vannie decides to wait another year to start school   click to read or close >>

As usual, Vannie was happy and healthy.

He is quite a sunny boy, always laughing (unless I cause him to cry by embarrassing him), always helpful and never demanding.

  
Vannie, Baaskaa and Inculai

He has decided to stay at Byambaa’s for one more year, before attending the same vocational school as Baaskaa, Davaa and Enkhtsetseg. When I asked him which profession he would like to learn, he replied “Excavator driver, like brother Baaskaa." I believe that he is now, in October, somewhat regretting having waited, because he senses that Baaskaa is getting ready to get out of the house and become independent.

Luckily, Vannie still keeps growing, even though it’s mainly his legs that stretch in length. At this point, he can easily compete with any supermodel! But I hope very much that he will put on a few more pounds before he starts operating heavy machinery. Judging by the amount he eats, this shouldn’t be a problem.

Vannie is still timid around me. When we had a bit of leisure time the three of us climbed up a mountain near the farm. I was happy to recognize that despite of his shyness, he’s becoming more comfortable with me. He still won’t let me go sheep herding with him, as he thinks it is too dirty for me. Upon my return to New York, I wrote him a letter, reminiscing about our outing to the mountain and asking what I have to do to be allowed to go herding with him. He wrote back and said that he missed me very much and that he will grant me my wish next time I visit.

May 2010: Vannie stops smoking and grows some more   click to read or close >>

Vannie could be the poster child of a country boy!

He finally grew in height and gained a little bit of weight, which makes him look closer to his actual age.

Vannie’s one weakness was occasional smoking. Apparently he smoked a lot in his last orphanage, where all the boys smoked. Even in the childcare center the kids smoke. They learn it on the streets and bring the habit into the center. Baaskaa and Davaa are also occasional smokers. We tried to talk to them numerous times and they kept promising to stop, but unfortunately they never really did. I think Baaskaa’s absence allowed Vannie to stop and he says he’s happy not to smoke. He feels better and he sees the physical changes.

Vannie is still very quiet, he doesn’t talk much but is always attentive. That’s how I experienced him in the winter. He was very gentleman-like to me, offered me his chair, opened the door for me and made sure that I had my share of tea and cookies. But he wouldn’t talk. He does smile and laugh a lot, particular with Baaskaa back in the house! And he is totally fascinated by everything that has to do with the animals.

Sara has had the same experience when she visits. During her April visit, Vannie had no time for her, as the pig was about to give birth and he wanted to see it and help. So Sara had to follow him to the pigsty in order to exchange a few words.

Vannie never asks for anything. I am not sure if he is in general a very content boy or if he is simply shy. I noticed that his shoes were on the brink of falling to pieces. These were my old Merrill’s, which I had given to Baaskaa two years ago. Baaskaa wore them, then Ambush, Byambaa’s oldest son and then Vannie. Without really thinking, I took off my shoes, which were similar to the ones Vannie wore, and asked him to swap. Vannie flat out refused to even try them on. It went back and forth, until he started to cry. He was ashamed; he didn’t want me to wear his shoes. He was so ashamed that he’d rather pass up the chance to get new shoes than show me his dirty feet and socks. I finally grabbed a pair of Baaskaa’s shoes and offered to wear those instead. Only with a lot of cheering on from the family and after a lot of tears, Vannie finally gave in.

I felt bad; I should have been a bit more sensitive and not so impulsive. Vannie cried really hard. Just because these kids have nothing doesn’t mean they don’t have pride or dignity. Luckily Mongolians are pretty tough people, pity isn’t something they know much of. Everyone had a good laugh, hugged Vannie and told him how handsome he looked in his new shoes.

February 2010: Batbileg discovers his love for herding   click to read or close >>

Batbileg is one of the sweetest kids I have ever met.

Byambaa and Byaraa love him. Every time he comes through the door Byambaa cries out “Vannie”, which is his Russian nickname (a cute version of Vanja – I have no idea who gave him this name). The actual meaning of Batbileg is ‘gift’, and that’s how they treat him.

Vannie is a very hard worker. He is small for his age, but he works like an adult. The first day I was at the farm, Vannie cam back from herding, carrying an adult sheep on his back that was frozen and incapable of walking. Sadly, it died a few hours later.

He looked a bit dazed, when we piled all the kids into the minibus to drive to the summer camp, but he enjoyed the trip. Baaskaa and Vannie are very close, they act like brothers and are always physically close. When all of us lined up on our improvised ‘beds’ on the floor of the dorm room we stayed at in UB, they always slept next to each other. When I checked on the kids in the middle of the night, I always saw them embracing each other in their sleep! I think everyone who meets Vannie feels that way; you want to hug him all the time!

When the kids discussed their wishes for the future, Vannie was very sure about being a herder. He said he loved working on the farm, with goat, sheep and pigs- there is nothing else he wanted to do. Someone had told me that he too expressed interest in being a bulldozer driver, but he dismissed that as an old idea, not valid anymore.

I asked him if he could think of any thing profession that would be helpful on the farm. Khosoo suggested he could learn to be a carpenter, because they constantly built new houses and stables. I pointed out that a back up profession would be good, in case another dzud happens. (Dzud is a Mongolia term for the combination of summer drought and severe winter that has hardened snow and ice into an impenetrable layer and makes it impossible for livestock to feed). Vannie listened closely and eventually responded that being a carpenter would be a profession he would be interested in. I could tell that he really just wanted to herd and it calmed him that he had until September to decide what he wanted to do.

Vannie enjoyed our time together. He is a very good basketball player, even though he is quite small in height. And he loved Avatar. He had never been to a movie theater before and he was impressed by the crowd and size of the theater.

Vannie is one of those kids that you can take everywhere; he is interested and will try anything!

When we worked with the kids to identify which items they needed and wanted, his list was the shortest, even though he had the least possessions. Byambaa and Byaraa scrambled to find a jacket for him, when I picked him up. I think they borrowed one from Ambush, Byambaa’s oldest son. What they didn’t tell me was that they also scrambled to find shoes. I don’t know whose shoes he ended up wearing, but when we bought him new ones, it turned out that the ones he borrowed were two sizes too big. He never said a word.

As soon as we returned to the farm (Byambaa: “Vannie!!!!”), without a word, Vannie exchanged his new clothes for work clothes and went to tend to the animals. (Every time I take out the kids, Byambaa is left alone with all the farm work!) We didn’t see him until dinner time.

January is the month of birthdays at Byambaa’s. Baaskaa’s in on January 27th and Vannie’s is on January 29th. I was lucky to be there for the boy’s birthdays and we surprised each of them with a large cake. Well, I guess Vannie wasn’t that surprised, after he enjoyed Baaskaa’s cake. But he were happy nevertheless. It was the first personal birthday cake both of them ever got!

Once I got used to the cold, I went out herding with Vannie. He became quite nervous, because he thought I shouldn’t be out in the cold, so he walked the animals in small circles around the house. First I was surprised, but once I understood I gave in and returned to the cozy warmth of the stove. You cannot argue with Vannie, he will always win with his boyish charm.