I had a pretty interesting Sunday two days ago. One, it rained, and two, I spoke for quite a while with three different people I'd never spoken to before, who were all of different ages and nationalities.
The first was Sister Esperanza (that means Hope in Spanish, in case you don't know). I met her crossing the road to St. Mary's. She was the only person that day to speak to me first. We introduced ourselves, her in her own broken English-Mongolian-Spanish mix. I hadn't noticed her before - and I initially thought she was a missionary, because she was wearing pants and her hair was loose/uncovered. It was an interesting way to see a Sister; fascinating for me, as this was the first time I'd seen a Sister like this.
After Mass, she dragged me along to say 'Hi' to some other people. Not that I mind that - I mind not having anything to say between "Hi" and "Bye", because that's just so terribly awkward. The fact that everyone - people of every class, including tramps - jostles you as they make their way out doesn't exactly make it easier.
We left Mass together under her umbrella (it was still bloody raining) and talked a little more. She invited me to come to her house (wait, sisters have houses?) sometime, and I (gleefully) accepted. Promised to pray for each other.
She spoke in simple words, in simple concepts, and yet, there was so much wisdom in her. Joy too. A person would only have to receive one glance from her to know that he's loved. She's wonderful, and I believe I can learn a lot from her.
The second was Father Pierre, a forty-ish French man. He was one of the people Sister Experanza had dragged me off to say Hi to, but I only really talked to him on the bus. By coincidence, we happened to get on the same one. And guess how I started that conversation.
"Father Pierre, why is life precious?"
Eh. I know. I'm mean to people, because I jump on them so unexpectedly. Well, I did say: "Can I ask you something?" First, sooooooo he was kinda prepared...right?
He is super awesome. We sat there for about half an hour, talking about basic principles such as life and love, human dignity and a little about ourselves. Father Pierre's English was a little difficult to understand, due to the loud rumbling of the bus and the thunder growling over the roof, but not impossible. He writes too - and his way of explaining things also really reminded me of Sister Esperanze and the mother of my best friend. Inspiring...but not magical. There's no real "ah ha" moment, but there's a lot of hope. They have reached the point where they believe, have faith, in love and life (all that stuff) and can still successfully reconcile that faith with logical reasons. I'm not sure why I always feel like crying at those points...I think the hope has a hopeless side to it as well. Or maybe that's just my cynical, pessimistic side rearing it's ugly head. I don't know.
He gave me an umbrella, because I had none, though he instructed me to pass it on to the next person who'd need it. We said goodbye, and promised to pray for each other.
(Is it just me, or do all sisters and fathers ask for prayers?)
The third was a young Korean-Canadian teacher named Joanne from the Mongolian International University (MIU). She's also a Student Affairs director - I hope to talk to her about my *cough*education situation*cough* and ask her advice on it. Why was I at MIU on a Sunday afternoon on a rainy day instead of at home, you may wonder? Killing time. Mother generally expects me home on Sundays at around 2 or 3 - I've been building on that expectation since I first started going to mass (partially due to "classes" and long bus rides to Gachuurt - the area outside of the city). I don't have classes or long bus rides anymore, but I arrive home as if I do. Not sure why.
Anyway, I simply asked her what all the hub-bub was about in the main hall of the school. (I already know my way around quite well - it's a small building). Apparently, they have an MIU church there. Might attend in order to kill more time in the future. We just kept on talking from there, and stood there for another half an hour. I'm not even sure what we talked about - but we talked as girls do, exchanging information in short sentences. Wasn't awkward at all - in fact, it was quite fun. [She wasn't scared of me! What an accomplishment! *some sarcasm in that sentence*].
Sadly, she's going back to Israel to finish her Masters this year, so she won't be one of my professors :(
In conclusion, I should talk to more people more often. Not in groups...I must corner them when they're alone (muhahaha). No, seriously, no real talking occurs in groups, unless they all know each other very well.
Cornering it is.