“Where is that again, somewhere in Africa?”
“Just don’t come back with a bone through your nose!”
“We all know God does not answer prayers from places like that!”
“What am I doing?”
By Nathan Nickel
Mongolia–most
people aren’t even sure where it is, let alone what it is like. I
think honestly that was one of the things that drew me here, the unknown.
The call on the Adventist
Volunteer web site said that Mongolia was looking for four English teachers.
The volunteers would teach English to professionals. Mongolia,
that was some place
around China, right? I still wasn’t sure if this was the job or the
place for me.
I ran to the Chaplain’s office and asked what ‘teach professionals
English’ meant. Mrs. Norton explained that these professionals would
not be Christians. “It is the hope,” she went on, “that
through these English classes the students would be brought to Christ.
Many of them know nothing of Christ.” All I could say was, “wow.”
This was exactly the kind of job I wanted.
But Mongolia? I quickly learned all I could about the country. It was
cold, its capital is the coldest in the world. It practiced Tibetan Buddhism.
There were only 3 million people in the ENTIRE country. It had the famous
Gobi Desert, it was close to the Great Wall, it used to be Communist.
It was untouched. Much of the land was still in the same condition it
was 1000 years ago when Ghengis Khan lived. Many of the people were living
the same nomadic life their ancestors lived.
Images of the Gobi, riding camels, taking treks into the vast steppe,
adventures beyond my dreams instantly filled my mind. Not only was it
the job I wanted, it was the country I wanted. Mongolia, it was where
I belonged.
All of this happened in September and October of 2000. But on January
8, 2001, I boarded a plane bound for Asia, with only one thought in my
mind, “What am I doing?”
Nathan teaching one
of his professionals English class.
We instantly immersed ourselves in our teaching schedules, teaching well into the evenings. Coming and going to work meant not just travel, but braving the frigid minus 40 degrees, ice forming in our nostrils, all the while a seemingly arctic sun slowly rose over the snow-covered hills surrounding Ulaanbaatar. But our work schedule did not stop us from having fun. On the weekends we would go to the mountains five miles away and hike through the forest, a real winter wonderland. We would sled down the white slopes, our cheeks rosy, our eyes twinkling. It was straight out of the movies.
As spring came, more than just the weather started to warm. As we spent more time with our students the relationships between them and us also warmed. We would spend time at their houses, they would visit us at ours, and slowly but surely they started attending church. It was amazing to see people such as an army general start attending Sabbath School, a biologist attending home groups, and university students interested in God.
The warmth also brought new adventures for us as we explored the now green countryside of Mongolia. We took trips to lakes, hours from any form of civilization. We visited people in their gers (tent-like dwelling), rode horses, went swimming, and enjoyed the unscathed nature of the Mongolian countryside.
As I made friends,
experienced the countryside and started to immerse myself in the culture,
I found that one year would not be enough. I felt the Lord calling me
to spend an additional year here, and I gladly accepted. He called me
to a small countryside village, not to teach English, but to do church
planting. Life there was a pure adventure– getting water from a well,
even in minus 30 degrees, chopping wood, harvesting hay with a sickle
and pitch fork, doing Bible studies, preaching and, most importantly,
making friends. Going into a person’s ger, being greeted with a warm
smile, having them enter my heart and me entering theirs was all so much
more than I expected.
This is not to say that this experience has been without difficulties.
Some of the most difficult times in my life were spent in the Mongolian
countryside. Sometimes though, the paths that lead to the beautiful places
are the most rocky and difficult to travel, but having gone through it
makes it all worth it in the end.
My time here is now drawing to a close. It is hard to believe it has been
two years now. It honestly breaks my heart to think of leaving this place.
I came here for the adventures of the Gobi, to see if I could survive
the winter, to see a part of the world I had never seen before. I stayed
because of the friends I made. I never really intended to fall in love
with the people of this country, but now I cannot imagine not falling
in love with them.
“No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know
what his master is doing; but I have called you friends.” -Jesus,
John 15:15
"’God is love,’ is written upon every opening bud, upon
every spire of springing grass. The lovely birds making the air vocal
with their happy songs, the delicately tinted flowers in their perfection
perfuming the air, the lofty trees of the forest with their rich foliage
of living green-all testify to the tender, fatherly care of our God, and
to His desire to make His children happy.” -Ellen White
By: Nathan Nickel, Volunteer to Mongolia
| Top of Page | Magazine Listing | Contents Page | Previous Page | Next Page |