Sunday, July 31, 2011

Бусдын цуурай

Нэгэн дүүдээ үүнийг бичив. Хэн гэдгээ мэдэж байгаа. 
Хүн амьдралаа өөрөө л тодорхойлж амьдрах ёстой. Харин өөрийнхөө тодорхойлоод байгаа тэр амьдралд чинь чи гол үүрэг гүйцэтгэсэн үү, бусад гүйцэтгэсэн үү? Үнэт зүйлс чинь чиний зуун хувь хүлээн зөвшөөрдөг зүйлс мөн үү, эсвэл зөвхөн бусдын тулгасан зүйл үү? Хүсэл мөрөөдөл чинь чинийх уу, эсвэл хэн нэгэн чамд "Ийм л байвал сайн, сайхан" гэж хар багаас чинь ухуулснаар, чи ч тэдний хүсэл мөрөөдлийг өөрийнх гээд андуураад сууж байна уу? Амьдрал аян зам, тодорхой. Гэхдээ аян зам ч зорилготой, эцсийн цэгтэй. Чиний амьдралын зорилго, тэр эцсийн цэг юу вэ? Юу ч бай, тэр үнэхээр чиний л цэг мөн үү? Бусдын хэм хэмжээгээр өөрийгөө дүгнэсэн учир, бусадтай өөрийгөө харьцуулсан учир өөрийнхөө төлөө биш, бусдын төлөө очсон, эсвэл очих ёстой гэж бодож буй цэг бол түүнийгээ эргэж хар. Чиний амьдрал бүхэлдээ чамаар тодорхойлогдсон байна уу, бусдын цуурай төдий болсон байна уу гэдгээ бод. Дүгнэ. Ойлго. Хүн харьцуулах зүйлтэй байж өөрийгөө ойлгоно гэж чи хэлж магад. Тийм байж болно. Гэхдээ яг юуны төлөө харьцуулж байгаагаа бод. Хүн энэ ертөнцөд төрөхдөө зөвхөн үйлийн үрийн хуульд захирагдан бууж ирдэг. Тиймдээ ч хүн бүр амьдралаас өөр зүйл ухаарах гэж, мэдрэх гэж, авах гэж, өгөх гэж төрдөг. Чамаас тас хөндлөн зорилготой хүмүүстэй өөрийгөө харьцуулах хэрэгтэй юу тэгвэл? Зөвхөн өөрийнхөөрөө амьдралаа тодорхойлно гэдэг гэхдээ "би", "зөвхөн би", "зөвхөн өөрийнхөөрөө" гэж цээжээ дэлдэхийн нэр биш. Харалган аминч ч байхын нэр биш. Амьдралыг өөрийнхөөрөө тодорхойлохоос өмнө хийх ёстой зүйл бол өөрийгөө танин мэдэх. Тэгсэн тохиолдолд чи хэн ба юу, чиний орон зай юу, амьдрал чинь хүртэл юу гэдэг нь гараад ирдэг. Тэгээд тэр орон зай чинь мэдээж зөвхөн чинийх биш байж таарна, бусад ижил төстэй хүмүүсийн орон зай байж таарна. Тэгэхээр өөрийнхөө амьдралыг өөрийнхөөрөө тодорхойлно гэдэг бусдыг ч амьдралдаа оруулна гэсэн үг. Гэхдээ өөрийнхөөрөө амьдралыг тодорхойлсон үед чи зөвхөн зөв хүмүүсээ оруулж сурдаг. Зөв гэдэг нь хэн нэгний хэлсэн тодорхойлсноор "боловсролтой учир зөв, ажилтай учир зөв, сайхан зүс царайтай учир зөв, баян учир зөв, надад туслаж чадах учир зөв" биш, чиний л амьдралын нэгэн хэсэг болох ёстой төрөл бүрийн зөв хүмүүс орж ирж эхэлдэг. Найз нөхөд, янаг амраг, өстөн дайсан гэж бодсон хүн ч үнэндээ чиний л үзэхийг, мэдрэхийг хүссэн зүйлийг чамд өгдөг "найз". Өөрийгөө хэн гэдгээ ухаарсан хүнд дайсан хүртэл байдаггүй. Тэгээд чиний амьдралд хүмүүс байгаа л бол тэдэнтэй хүний харилцаа тогтооно. "Би" гэж цээжээ дэлдэх утгагүйг ойлгож эхэлнэ. Дахиад хэлэхэд бусдын цуурай шиг бусдын хэм хэмжээгээр тодорхойлсон зүйлээр битгий амьдраарай. Бусдад чи ижил хүйстэн, энэ тэр гэж олон долооноор хэлэгдэн, төрөл бүрээр доромжлуулж байсан ч чи л өөрөө хэнд ч бие, сэтгэл, үгээр гэм хор хийлгүй амьдарч байвал тэр чинь нэр төртэй, зөв, утгатай амьдрал шүү.
Агаагаас нь

Saturday, July 30, 2011

August blog of note, etc.

So it's only a few days till August begins, but I've already started following publicly one blog just now. It's called LW and it's a blog about all things lesbian, bisexual and FTM. I am specifically following this blog because this is the first time I am seeing a non-trans Mongolian try to be inclusive of us, trans folks. The blogger does not delve into her inner world through words, it's more of a visual sharing of the world as she sees it.

Etc part: I spent Thursday night hanging out with some rocker kids (who were mostly straight, except for a couple who I thought were gay, but not so much, just queer), yesterday with a queer riot-punk-grrl scene friend (since the scene is absent here, she's obviously a foreigner) - all under the pretext of a shower. As a consequence, I had three showers in 24 hours, more than all showers together in the previous 76 days! I finally felt clean. The municipality is finishing the pipe replacement for our part of the city by Monday, I was told. When at Zulzaga's, I realised it's been such a long, long time since I'd sat down with people, talking more or less apolitical things: music, bands, instruments, etc, and listening to good music. I realised I have to introduce them to more quirkier sides of the rock music that they seem to be missing, mostly I heard late 90s hardcore metal coming out of the speakers. Nevertheless, I had a blast. I can see myself hanging out with those kids. Kids because they are all barely twenty, if that. What really took me aback was that those kids were good, intrinsically good, non-evil, innocent. So different from whatever I'd been experiencing. All I want is peace in my life. Peace and uncomplicated people. Uncomplicated friendships. Simplicity, peace. And I am getting it. 

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Day 74... of hot water absence

A friend told me to come by tonight and take a shower at her place, yay! The other friend hadn't worked out although she also offered I could shower at her place, so I did try her thrice, all three times she was super busy or getting up real early, so no chatting pre- / post-shower was welcome. I'd rather chat, shower, chat and go. So am looking forward to my first decent, real shower since mid-June. I don't smell disgusting as I do wash my haed and rub away at every centimetre of my skin with soaped cold-cold towel each morning, twice over. Another friend told me I should check into a hotel for an hour and shower. In my head I'm like "Why would I waste money like that?" My last words: damn you, Ulaanbaatar municipality, damn you.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Долоон долоо хоног хагас

Нэг экс ямар ч реакцгүй байсаар байгаад нь би санаа зовсондоо өнөөдөр утасдав. Тэгсэн утас маань солигдоход шинэ утсыг маань бичиж авалгүй толгой нь эргэсэн байсан гэнэ. Ойрхондоо нэг уулзахаар боллоо. Тэрэнтэй нэг уулзаж сүүлийн үед амьдралд маань өрнөж буй бүх зүйлсийг хуваалцан сэтгэлээ нээвэл арай л онгойх юм шиг санагдаад. Бишүүрхэнгүй л дуугарна билээ. Нэгэнт дааврын шилжилт маань эхлээд долоон долоо хоног илүү болчиж. Олон зүйл анзаарагдаж байна. Жагсаавал:

Сэтгэл санааны байдал: хамаагүй илүү тайвширсан минь надад мэдрэгдэж байгаа. Гэлээ ч випассана сурах хүсэл хэвээр. Илүү амарлингуй болвол надад л сайн. Өмнө нь хагартлаа бухимддаг байсан Анараа байхгүй. Бухимдал уур нь бүрмөсөн алга болоогүй ч хамаагүй бага хэмжээ, хүчтэй болсон байна билээ. 

Дуу хоолой: мэдэгдэхүйц өөрчлөгдсөөр. "Удахгүй умзад хоолойтой болно оо, хөгшин нь" гэж Бааяаг хааяа инээлгэнэ. Хоолойн бүтэц өөрчлөгдөж байгаа бололтой, ер нь хоолой бүхэлдээ, ялангуяа төвөнх хавиараа жаахан зовиуртай гэх үү, зовиураасаа илүү бадааралттай ч юм уу гэмээр мэдрэмж байнга. 

Үс: дээд уруулан дээр байдаг хэдэн үс улам л хар, улам л бүдүүн болоод байгаа мэт.  Бусад газар илүү үс ургасан нь одоогоор харагдсан анзаарагдсан юм алга. Харин толгойн үс маш их унасаар байгаа. Яг Т-той холбоотой үс уналт уу, эсвэл зүгээр л тохиолдол уу, хэлж мэдэхгүй.

Булчин шөрмөс: эмчилгээнээс өмнө зүүдэг байсан туласи хүзүүний зүүлт маань хааяа харахаар дээшилчихсэн мэт харагдаж байгаа. Дээшилнэ ч гэж юу байхав, хүзүүний булчингууд л хөгжиж байгаа юм байлгүй. Гар хуруу бол бас л нэлээд бадааралттай. Хавагнаад байна уу даа гэж жоохон санаа зовсхийгээд анзаараад байгаа ч үгүй л юм шиг байна. Дааврын эмчилгээний үеэр хаван байдаг үзэгдэл учир анзаараад байгаа юм. 

Хамгийн чухал нь: энэ сараас сарын тэмдэг зогсч байгаа бололтой. Бөөн баяр. Бусад транс залуучуудтай ярихад зарим нь эмчилгээ эхэлснээс хойш нэг л удаа, зарим нь 2-3 сар ирээд зогссон гэх юм билээ. Зарим нь бүр 5-6 сар, үнэн гомдмоор. Эсвэл нэг Т бэлдмэлээс нөгөөрүү шилжихэд, үнэн гутармаар. Нэг л удаа ирээд бүрмөсөн дуусдаг азтай баагийнуудын нэг нь байгаасай гэж хүснэ, найдна. Гэхдээ л миний бие яг бэлэн болчихсон байсан нь ойлгомжтой. Хүн бие организмаа хүртэл оюун бодлоороо жолоодож чаддаг учир. Тийм болохоор ямар ч өөрчлөлтүүд гарсан их хурдан гарч, бас би өөрөө ч тэдгээрийг их эергээр мэдэрч байгаа байх. Ганц зүйлийг л эергээр мэдэрч чадахгүй байгаа нь донтой хүн шиг байнга секс бодож явдаг болсон. Ядаргаатай. Тэгээд энд тэнд явахаараа өлөнтөөд хүүхэн ширтээд, янз бүрийн юм өнгөтөөр гар хуруунд мэдрэгдтэл, үнэрттэл, амтагдтал толгойдоо ургуулан бодоод, шал ядаргаатай... Өмнө нь байнга тэгэж секс боддог хүн байгаагүй юм билээ. Мэдээж амраг хайрттайгаа секс хийхийг хүсэлгүй л яахав. Гэхдээ шал танихгүй эмэгтэйчүүд дээр л тачаадаад байх нь нэг л биш санагдаад. 24 цагаас унтахыг нь хасаад бусад цагийн ихэнхэд нь л бараг юм биш үү. Хэрэв сиз эрэгтэйчүүд мөнхийн ийм байдалтай байдаг бол бас л арай л хэцүү юм. Гэхдээ энэндээ хүн дасдаг л байлгүй дээ. Ямар нэг байдлаар энэ нь багасдаг байлгүй дээ... Үгүй бол мөн балрав аа хэхэхэ

Батга: наадмаас хэд хоногийн өмнө гэнэт ухаан орсон хүн шиг найзынхаа хэлээд байсан батганы эсрэг антибиотик бэлдмэлийг нь олж аваад түрхээд машид дээрдсэн нээрээ. Тослогийг нь ч бас тодорхой хэмжээгээр багасгадаг бэлдмэл юм билээ. Шилжилтийн насны батгашилтаас болж зовж байгаа бусад хүмүүст хэлэхэд Albiotin гэж клондамицинд үндэслэсэн батганы эсрэг бэлдмэлийг Монфа оруулж ирдэг юм билээ, антибиотикийн харшилгүй бол нэлээд сайн нөлөөтэй юм билээ шүү.

The deepest shades of grey

I'm washed over by the deepest shades of grey, rolling over, and into me. The deepest, darkest, saddest shades of grey. Such crossroads. These will take me forward in the directions I've never gone in before. As ever before, this journey begins in the heart and soul, perhaps to spill into the physical form. I'm taking deep breaths and I am ready to set off.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Half a year

Give or take. Much water seems to have flown under the bridge. When I look back, I see but a few milestones significant to me: the beginning of my transition is first and foremost. Separation is another. Going on an indefinite "leave", yet another. Reaching some life-altering decisions - peace, detachment, reclaiming of my own life beyond the structures and strictures it was moored in - in the past two weeks or so, yet another. 

Most of my life I've lived in a transient state, eternal nomad, stopping in places for only long enough to get the feel and move on. Some moves were voluntary, some were forced. Some were physical, most were emotional. The only settled period of my life had ended half a year ago. And it still pains me. Not as much as it did the first few months. I have to move on, start building my life again, which is why I have chosen to step down from the board of the Centre. And that reclamation process begins with acquisition of some necessary furniture.

I'll hopefully have a hundred or two extra this month since I reached a new financial arrangement with my ex, so I'll be able to shell out at the end of this month on a locally made sofa to start with, shouldn't be more than hundred fifty thousand, to sit, work and sleep on to replace my yoga-matt width, thin travel mattress that one of my colleagues from the HQ left last year in the office when he finished his Mongol Rally run. Next month perhaps get a book shelf, a low sprawl, horizontal one, a part of which will also serve as a table, a multi-purpose affixture beyond housing my books that I am yet to unpack. And month after that a table, a proper table to sit on and write my stuff. Rewrite, edit and collate mostly, as it is. It's quite annoying but there are no second hand furniture stores here. Everything is used and reused till it falls to pieces, or passed onto rellies and friends, so people don't seem to need such stores. 

Half a year. Give or take. Back into the nomadism. But there is a big difference between my nomadism now and then: this time my nomadism is to last.

Friday, July 22, 2011

To party or not to party...

There's a women-only party tonight. Been wrecking my brains - should I? I've tons of stuff to do, and then again, it's a women only party. Hhhhmmmm. FYI, many trans guys do come from women-identified spaces, so we end up hanging out in our comfort zones, at the lesbian spaces, even after our transition. At least, initially. But I hadn't seen the same chilled attitude from girls here. If I had, I wouldn't be hestiating thanks to my blueballs these days. Again, do I fancy going to that space, hanging out by myself (had my bro been here, would've gotten him to accompany me, what all him breaking up with his girl recently, very sad), NOT drink (I'm limiting my alcohol intake to 1-2 a month), somehow pick up a chick, take her to a hotel (no bed at home, just a singlest single mattress) and... fall asleep on top of her?! I've been known to do that. Will finish the stuff I need to do and then see, maybe.

Comments

Been having a trouble with this template that was not showing the comments link below the post. So I did a bit of digging around and found I could embed this small box next to/the right side of the title of the post. You click it, and you're ready to post your comment. Voila. PS: Of course, I am moderating comments, have to.

Landlady mystery question solved

So the landlady asked me a few days ago if it was me on TV talking about homosexuals, and I'd been worried since then. Of course, my response was affirmative, I never had a reason to hide anything as transparency and truthfulness are the best and only option in all situations, since I had learnt from childhood that it's "Best to expose well than to hide poorly". Nevertheless I was quite surprised "Recently? Interesting, I didn't do any interviews recently, must've been a repeat of one or the other interview". I just found out from the community kids that apparently during the naadam holidays NTV repeated the issue Otgoo and I appeared on Nandia's Show back in November 2010. And obviously many more people saw it now/recently as people wouldn't have been doing what I was doing during the long week of holidays: not watching TV, being cut off from civilisation (literally, no mobile or internet coverage in the part of Bulgan province I was in), enjoying myself and helping mom around - every other day - on the vegetable patch, pushing a cart of 70 litres of water a few times over, watering onions, radish, cucumbers and a few others mom planted this year. Her entire patch is a mere 20 square metres, but man, it takes some effort especially given nearly 40 degrees of heat during the day. So yes, many more people saw it, I am glad for it, people are talking about LGBT people, a much needed public discourse. As long as I'm not asked to vacate my present studio unit, I don't care. No other landlords take rent monthly, usually requiring a lumpsum payment of at least 6 months, which is impossible to manage for me at this point with what I'm living on these days. In case I am asked to vacate, it will be near impossible to find another place that accepts rent on a monthly basis. So I dearly hope they don't ask me to leave...

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Itch, landlady, resignation

Today's the second day that I'm distracted to bits by the itch I've had under my binder. It is probably the heat that finally kicked in during the Naadam that's making it more difficult for the skin to breathe properly. It's pretty bad, I can't very well concentrate on what I'm supposed to be doing. I get my hands into and under my binder to get at the skin and tear at it, but it's not helping. Or maybe it's the T, I had my last shot only two days ago. Or maybe I am just developing some sort of skin disease. Or maybe it's just stress.

Talking of stress: the landlady asked me yesterday evening when I took the remainder of my rent to her "Have you been talking on TV about homosexuals?! I saw you on TV only recently. Was that you?!" And my heart sank. There we go, I though, possibly one more situation where I may be asked to vacate the unit because of who I am just as my ex was asked to vacate the apartment we had been renting in the 13th district when the landlords realised that we filmed the documentary "Lies of Liberty" in the apartment we were renting from them. Their unequivocal "We are Christians. It's sick. Think about our 2-year old daughter and how this, renting of our apartment out to such a couple, would affect her life!" For your information, homosexuality and transgenderism/transsexuality are not diseases she can catch from us renting your apartment, dear Tamiraa. So with a sunken heart, I mustered a chipper face "Yes, that was me! I always talk about LGBT people, so that must have been me! But it's not recent filming, that's from over 2, maybe even 3 months ago". She did not look at me in the eyes this morning when I greeted her.

On yet another note: I've decided to let go of my advisory position with the Centre's Executive Board. The Centre's standing well on its feet and its vision, I've done all I could for the Centre, for the budding LGBT rights movement in Mongolia. Although there can never be enough of LGBT activists especially in this country, it's time to let go. Since sometime in February, and more so from 9 July I tried to, and did, imagine my life without the LGBT Centre. Tough, but possible. I've felt that my life hasn't truly been mine since late 2003 when I began working through structures on the LGBT rights in Mongolia. I've had lots of time for reflection, and I've come to the conclusion that all I want at this point of time in life is peace. Serenity. I want to live my life away from people's scornful and hateful gaze at the worst, and prying, pitying or judgemental eyes at the best. More importantly, I want to get back to my writing, prose, not poetry this time around. I would like to publish my poetry book, too, though one day. I want to live a simple, uncomplicated existence of living each day as it comes, unburdened by my overwhelming and overarching concern and almost physical pains for every last thing that my LGBT sisters and brothers are experiencing... Too much empathy. Too much attachment. Too much concern. So this is it, officially. Detachment instead of attachment. 

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Random, randomer, randomest thoughts

From Snippets of absurd confessions by Anaraa, June-August, 2004 (from www.mongoldyke.jimdo.com)

Agony purifies and distils your soul and feelings, when experienced sharply for a brief period. If the period is extended, it dulls your soul and blunts your self-awareness... (Comments of July 2011: such an astute observation.)

I wanna cry tonight. Cry because it is absurd, the stuff I just read, and cry because that absurdity is true. Absurdity is truth, truth is absurd. I recognise myself in those absurd words of lost and lonely souls who don’t understand that they are something that they don’t imagine they are. Or the absurd words that I am what I don’t see… What am I? Who am I? The absurdity of feelings so true that they scratch and cut all my intestines with the power of a drill going at million turns a minute that I feel that that very truth is shredding me into minute pieces, filling my empty shape of the body with blood that won’t curdle and stop, the red wet blood that slowly morphs into words, flowing, and the pieces of me falling onto the floor and becoming whole. Blood is words. Words are blood. Broken pieces are whole, whole is piece. Absurdity is truth... (Comments of July 2011: I wrote these thoughts when I finished the book "Our Lady of the Flowers" by Jean Genet. He's still definitely one of those few writers that capture my imagination and soul in his post-structuralist ramblings, much the same with António Lobo Antunes. Began reading his "What can I do when everything's on fire" last week.)

What is madness, if not being loved to death? What is sanity, if not loving to death? And how long had I to ponder these questions of love, death, friendship, hate? The answer is, for as long as I remember. I have always obsessed these questions, never really letting them slip off my mind, these questions lurked beneath my gaze, even when I was talking of absolutely irrelevant issues. That is, if the human emotions were separated from bare facts of life, but then, those bare facts of life never arise in vacuum, there always precedes some sort of human emotion. What is madness, if not being loved to death? What is sanity, if not loving to death? And I did love to death, and I was loved to death, a number of times, but each time differently, for the uniqueness of certain actions, however many times repeated with someone or the other, retained their uniqueness, for there had always been some subtle difference of one compared to another…(Comments of July 2011: thoughts on love and relationships dating circa 2004. They still hold true, but then again, not sure at all of anything to do with love/relationships anymore. For better or worse.)

Monday, July 18, 2011

Day 44

Not much to report. Just did my next shot. After rub-bathing in the coldest possible water for the sixty third or fourth day. While visiting mom, we had visitors: a herd of my cousins on mom's side descended one evening, on their way back to the city, and among them was my newly graduate doctor cousin who told me that my only doctor-cum-guitarist friend has been looking for me. My bad. I had a chance to take down all the numbers I kept on my work mobile before I had to relinquish it on 7 April, but somehow I missed her name. When I realised that, I also realised that I had truly just the faintest idea of how to get in touch with her. Thankfully B. still had my cousin's number. Phew. After a long talk to B. on 2 March evening when I was explaining why she needed to start doing her residency in endocrynology - for my sake, and other trans people's sake, who are already in the process, or soon to start - I lost the sight of her. 

To get back to the matter at hand: things are progressing normally, or as normal as they can get. After two and a half months I will get my tests done to see things are going as per the book, and I will need B's help in case the readings are off the charts. Good thing that my cousin's also a doctor, even if just freshmeat barely out of school. This past week when I had some free time to myself, all I could think of was sex. Very annoying. Fairly powerful. Fairly... expected as well. Too much info. Come to think of it, I rarely ever think, that is, thought of sex on a habitual basis. To make someone my sex toy is an appealing idea, but the messiness of it all: very few people get the idea of sex for the sex's sake. Often good sex is also confused with emotions. Or even a state of being together. So will probably give it a skip.

Фааак, бас бус

Хөдөө ээжийндээ халтар царайлж царайлж ирлээ. Гэтэл хоёр сар илүүтэйн өмнө тасарсан халуун ус одоо хүртэл байхгүй. Наадмын өмнө ирнэ гэсэн, ирээгүй, наадмын дараа заавал ирцэрцэн л байж таараа гээд иртэл бас ирээгүй. Зөвхөн Монголд л иймэрхүү хариуцлагагүй үзэгдэл энгийнээс энгийн зүйл. Цөмийн бөмбөгдөлтөд л өртөөгүй бол өөр газар нийслэл хотынхоо бүхэл бүтэн томоохон үйлдвэрийн бус хорооллыг халуун усгүй хоёр сар илүү суулгана гэсэн ном байхгүй. Фаааак. Арай ч дээ. Тэгэж байгаад нэг сайхан усанд орчвол бүх зүйл сайхан болох гээд байдаг.

Ээж минь энэ жил намайг шилжилтээ эхэлнэ гэж мэдэж байсан ч 3-р сард миний өгсөн ультиматумаас хойш надтай яриагүйг нь "Одоо хүртэл надаас ичсээр байгаа учир надтай харьцахыг хүсэхгүй байна" гэж би ойлгоод шилжилтээ сар хагасын өмнө эхэлсэн ч дуулгаагүй байсан. Гэхдээ энэ дээшээ бүр их өөрчлөлт гарах юм чинь, хэзээ нэг цагт уулзах л юм чинь, 3-р сард хамгийн сүүлд харсан байтугай бүх насаараа харсан Анараагаас зүс төрхөөр өөрчлөгдөөд уулзвал дахиад зүрхийг нь хаах асуудлаар гэмтэн болох биз гэж бодоод очлоо. Эхэлснээ хэллээ. Одоогоор гарсан өөрчлөлт, цаашид гарах өөрчлөлт гээд олон зүйл сонсголоо. Хариу нь энгийн: "Чи юм ойлгохгүй харанхуй хүмүүст янз бүр болгуулчив, бусад нь яах вэ. Чиний үйлийн үр, түүгээрээ яв. Ер нь чи хийх гэсэн юмаа хийчихсэн Монголдоо, одоо амиа бод. Амгалан тайван амьдрахаа бодоод Монголоос яв". Намайг аюулгүй амгалан байг гэж санаа зовох, бас надаас ичих нь тавь тавин хувьтай л байдаг байх. Гэснээс өнгөрсөн жилийн сүүл ба энэ жилийн эхээр нэгэн транс эмэгтэйн ээж надруу дайрч давшлан "Миний зөвшөөрөлгүй хүүхдийг минь цөлдөг чи хэн бэ, хүүхдийн минь нэрийг барьж телевизээр олон долоон юм ярьж байсныг чинь харсан шүү" гэж дэндүү гэхэд дэндүү харалган, тэнэг, бас зүрх зүссэн агсам үг хаядаг юм. Нэг биш, хоёр удаа. Аргаа бараад "Дахиж ингэж дайрч давшилвал цагдаад өгнө шүү" гэсэн. Тэр хүүхэд ээжтэйгаа ярихгүй байгаад би лав буруугүй. Тэр ярихгүй байгаад нь бухимдах сэтгэлээ надад гаргаж байна гэдгийг нь би ойлгож, ээжийгээ тэр эмэгтэйтэй адил байдалд оруулахгүй юмсан гэсэндээ анхны алхамыг хийж өнгөрсөн долоо хоног ээж дээрээ очсон. Миний ээж хүмүүс лүү тэгэж агсардаг хүн биш л, гэхдээ л эхийн сэтгэл хэцүү. Тэр эмэгтэй харин ч агсарч чаддагтаа доторх бухимдлаа бусад руу цацаад тайвширдаг байх. Гэтэл ээж маань угийн л сэтгэл хөдлөлөө илэрхийлж сураагүй, бүх болж буй зүйлийг дотроо хадгалдаг хүн, доторхоо бас хүмүүстэй нээж ярьж сураагүй хүн. Бүр багынхаа жараад жил найзлаж буй найздаа ч зүрх сэтгэлээ нээдэг ч юм уу, үгүй ч юм уу.

Үеэл дүү маань харин намайг шилжилтээ эхэлснийг сонсоод "Би таныг сайн ойлгож байна. Боловсрол телевизээр хүйс нь солигдоод төрчихсөн, тэгээд дааврын эмчилгээнд орж хүйсийн шилжилт хийж байгаа хүний тухай би баримтат кино үзсэн" гэдгийн. Бас "Угийн л ЛГБТ хүмүүс төрдөг, эцэг эх нь бүр багаас нь сайн ажиглавал шууд мэдэгддэг гэсэн" гээд л. "Гэхдээ соц үед ээж аавууд хүүхдийнхээ хажууд байнга байж чаддаг байсан биш" гээд л. Таван сартай хүүгээ "Энэ яг гей юм шиг байгаа юм" гэж элэг татаагаад. Гэхдээ нээрээ л тэр муухай хүүгийнх нь баруун нүд нь том харагдсан шүү. Гэвч хүний нүдний том жижиг өөрчлөгдөх л байлгүй дээ, үеэлийнхээ хүүг харж л байя. Тэгээд баахан хүүхдийн сэтгэл зүйн талаар үзсэн харсан зүйлээ надтай хуваалцахад нь бас л нэг сонин зүйл ой ухаанд сэргэсэн шүү. Охид ээжийгээ хөхөж байгаад өвтгөчлөө гэж бодоход ээж нь "Ёо ёо" гэхэд охин хүүхэд шууд уйлдаг, харин хөвгүүд ямар ч мэдрэмжгүй гөлийгөөд, гайхаад л байдаг гэнэ. Би их л багадаа юм даг, нэг нас хүрсэн байсан уу, үгүй юу, ээжийнхээ мээмийг хөхөж байхдаа хажуугийн ширээн дээр байсан хутга атгачихсан байсан гэсэн. Тэгэхээр ээж түүнийг нь авах гэхэд нь би хутгыг угз татаж, ээжийнхээ хурууг зүсээд, цус олгойдож, ээж орь дуу тавихад нь яагаа ч үгүй мэт гайхаад хараад байсан гэдгийг ээж хэлдэг байсан юм. Угийн л зэвүүн хүүхэд байж л дээ. Хүүхэд гэж гэхдээ их сонин, өөрт нь таалагдсан зүйлийг хамгийн сайн санаж үлддэг юм байна гэж бодоод байгаа юм, сүүлийн үед. Надад хүмүүс бага байхад минь маш олон тоглоом өгдөг байсан ч тэр олон тоглоомоос галзуу гоё, одоо хүртэл санаанаас гардаггүй нь том эгчийн надад өгч байсан ганган улаан машин. Надад ээж аав машин авч өгдөггүй, харин би их л гуйж, дуулсан болоод л эгч надад авчирч өгсөн байх. Таван настай байсан юм болов уу, ямар ч байсан Оросоос ирээд бас нэг их удаагүй байсан санагдаж байна. Хамгийн гоё бэлэг байж билээ, тэр машин. Тэр хавийн банди нарт ч байдаггүй гоё машин. Гээл багын сэтгэлд хамгийн тод үлдсэн зүйлээ ээждээ ярихаар юу ч санадаггүй, ажил ажил гэж гүйсээр өөрийнхөө биеийг бие биш болтол хөдөлмөрлөж, социалист таван жилийн төлөвлөгөөг давуулан биелүүлэхийн төлөө нойр хоолгүй зүтгэдэг байсан үйлдвэрийн хүн байсан болохоор арга ч үгүй биз дээ. Би санахгүй, зөвхөн ээж аав санах зүйлүүд бас байдаг ч ээж аав нь тухайн үедээ ажил, эсвэл өөр шалтгаанаас болоод хүүхэддээ анхаарахгүй бол том болоод тэд нь хүүхэд насаа юугаар дүрслэх вэ. Бусад айлд байдгаас илүү бид хэдийн зураг манайд байдаг ч тэр бас л хангалттай биш. Тэр зургуудыг харахаар Анараа гэж хүүхэд яг банди. Яахав, жаахан хөөрхөндүү банди. Зарим палааж малааж өмсүүлцэн зургууд нь бас л үнэн авцалдаагүй, хөөрхий. Харин яаж явж явж ихэнхдээ өмд өмсүүлчихдэг байсан юм. Палаажийг нь өмсөхгүй л гэж орилдог байсан даа. Ээжийн миний бага наснаас хамгийн их сайн санадаг зүйл нь Анараа хүүхдүүдийг зоддог, хүүхдүүдийнх нь ээж аав манай ээж аавд тэрийг нь ховлодог. Гэхдээ хэзээ ч охидтой тоглож чаддаггүй байсан болохоор охидуудыг зоддог байгаагүй. Зодуулсан банди нарын ээж аав 3-4 настайгаас эхлээд л "Танай хүүхэд манай хүүхдийг ингэсэн байналээ, тэгсэн байналээ" гэхийг нь сонсоод ердөө юм боддоггүй ээж аав маань сайхан гарууд шүү. Тэгээд болоогүй ээ, цэцэрлэг эсвэл сургуулиа тарчаад гэртээ ирээд хүүхэд зодсоноо гайхуулдаг байсан гэсэн шүү, үнэн сахилгагүй. Тэгээд гэнэт 10 настайд биеийн юм ирээд гэнэт гэрээс гарахгүй, гэдэс алдахгүй хүүхэд болж хувирсандаа, хөөрхий.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

5 and a half weeks

Just thought I would quickly update on my HRT before I leave for the countryside, hopefully sometime today, contingent on whether I get the call back from the one I am visiting. Because I am travelling and won't have access to running water (hot or cold, pretty comparable to my present cold-water situation that's going on now for 2 months, give or take), I thought I might be better off doing my T shot before I go to the countryside, a few days shy of the prescribed day on Saturday, which means I will be hobbling around for the entire duration out there. Or I could do it on my return, a few days later... Somehow I would prefer to get it done earlier than later because I am hoping for no more blood. About the shot per se: I seem to have done it correctly, no lumping or scarring, or anything. However, my bro called me a week ago and said his shot spot was scarring and itching like crazy and felt like a lump. Although I had nothing of the sort on my thigh, I could only reassure him that it was ok, and categorically no scratching. My guess is whoever did the shot for him didn't push the needle till the end - and it needs to go deep, till the end - and did the shot pretty much on the surface of the muscle, can't think of any other reason why he would be having a trouble. I just have to remind him again that the needle needs to go deep next time. He called me last night as well, and I asked him the date of his first shot, and he didn't remember. 12am to 1am of 5 June was my second birthday, the day and the emotions and feelings I felt then are firmly etched into my brains, and there he goes, not remembering his. Thankfully he has me who's keeping the track on his dateline. 

Changes: I am noticing my adam's apple's beginning to pop somewhat, I can definitely feel it bobbing up and down when I swallow, and it's a little more visibly protruding. My body smell's still bothering me, there are definitely moments when I am really and truly disgusted, but they are less now in frequency. My appetite is crazy, still. Some guys say that it comes down after a few months, let's see. Acne's still bad. It appears I might have cystic acne, because the acne I am developing is big painful lumps of pus. And of course, I've been picking and trying to squeeze them, which everyone knows you shouldn't, unless you want scars for life. I am assured of some scarring from my first month of transition, definitely. Before I looked up about acne, I was like "Who gives a dang about a few, ok, many pimples on my face?", relying just on the facewash. I mean it's just acne, no one has ever died of it, right. But three days ago I looked up the information and decided to get on top of it, got the antibiotic topical treatment. It is now beginning to work somewhat, I think. I was not worried even when everyone I met was asking me (with the exception of cowards who do not ask me in my face, but ask others around me) "What happened to your face?!", "I am on hormone replacement therapy". The funny thing is people don't ask further clarification questions, probably just assuming I must have some sort of a hormonal disorder for which I am getting treatment, which is the truth, in a way: it's called a hormonal disorder "born a woman, but a man". My chest appendages have begun hurting a bit, quite noticeable after I come home and unwrap the binder. The pain is natural though, just the symptoms of the menopause onset that is supposed to happen with the HRT. I am noticing that I am really tired these days as well. All I want to do is sleep. But of course, being who I am, I am not able to shut the world out, hole up and sleep through days. Just didn't have the opportunity, although I do need it. Increased sleep need is natural, the body is making changes and needs reparative periods of quality sleep. I think therein lies the problem, quality sleep I am unable to get as the garage next door is active and noisy from 7am onwards, sirens, banging, honking, shouting, you name it. I am used to all the noise, but it's the sirens that do wake me up. There has got to be a way to impose some sort of a regulatory ban on these sirens between certain hours. My skin is getting somewhat... different, maybe a little thicker, if that makes sense. It feels thicker and rougher, somehow. My voice definitely was beginning to crack two weeks ago, I can talk really low now, but that's with an effort. I was just watching online this Japanese kid whose voice had dropped remarkably quickly after already two-three months. So I am hoping the same thing to happen with my voice, too. In fact, the reason why I am even travelling to the countryside is my voice. I want to see my mother before my voice drops further, tell her in person that I had begun the HRT, tell her of my plans in re to the process, and that I am keeping the name she gave me. She is still my mother, and despite everything I love her. And she loves me, despite her shame about me. I told her before Tsagaan Sar in February that I was going to start on my transition this year, but she doesn't know that I had already begun as I hadn't spoken to her since March. Just didn't want to give her a heart attack when she next saw me, whatall with the voice change happening already. Also I really want to sit down and tell her everything that's been going on in my life, how a few days ago I got the biggest shock of my life when someone said that one day I would be served up with defamation suit by them - I am like, what?! Really?... I am so done, so totally out of there - that and other things. I had finally gotten hold of her on Sunday on her mobile, but she told me to call back a few days later to find out where she would be at then. Signing off. Happy Naadam!

PS: In case I am needed to lift heavy things, fix things and generally help around mom's and aunt's place, as I usually am, I better be physically able (i.e., able to walk and lift things, which I barely managed after my first shot), so I will do my shot when I get back.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Friends, friendships, etc.

There was this boy who was my classmate in the 8th grade, a bookworm much like myself, but more outgoing, friendly and people-oriented than I ever was. Together we did the hosting of the entire school's New Year Celebrations in our final grade. I remember he freaked out as I insisted on wearing a deel for the hosting, he thought I might show up in plain cloth, thick deel that grannies of either sexes wear on rainy days like the ones that are continuing here. So Uka is now the director of one of the biggest television channels in Mongolia, he does a marvellous job managing it. I haven't seen him in years, except that I had to seek him out last year in regard to the Centre's non-discrimination campaign. October 2010 was last I saw him until I bumped onto him during the movie event the other night. I was really touched when he asked if I was alright, following the whole story of the Inner Mongolian, and if it was me who was being written up badly and unfairly in the newspapers...

There is this girl I've known in the past year or so, a wonderful soul who has nothing but goodness in the heart. She has been the unofficial bodyguard of one guy I've known for years, and as his visibility as one of the only few out gay people increased, so had the chances of him being attacked. I remember a year ago I was sitting in his office teaching him how to use the Audacity programme to edit the podcasts, she brought in food for us and kept feeding us from the food that was supposed to last her a week, I think. She's beautiful, smart, an incredible actress to top it off, a gift discovered by many during her Vagina Monologues performance. Big-hearted.

There is this guy I've known for years, a wonderfully cheerful guy who had been one of my best friends in the last however many years since the LGBT Centre was set up in the early 2007. Through working together, I came to value and regard him as my friend. In fact, one of the only closer friends who my ex and I had opened up our hearts to. When my life suddenly came to a screeching halt at the beginning of the year, he never dropped an SMS or even an email response to my email, something anything to tell me that he would be there to listen when/if I needed it. He still met my ex, though, as a friend, as a colleague. As I began to wrap my head around everything, it was a truly painful realisation.

There is this girl who has been in my life forever, since I was 15. She had been my best friend for years, still one of the people I count to be among my friends although by now we have spent more time living apart in different countries than we did being friends in the same space. The space mattered as the email link appeared unworkable. I would pour my life into the lifeless characters on the screen, but didn't hear back for ages. The responses, as they were sent, were.. short, dull, dead. I gave up. The last time I saw her, I informed her of my decision to finally start transitioning. She said that she never saw me as masculine since I was always overwhelmed by my emotions. I did not ask opinions as there is nothing to opine about - what possibly one could even say when they had not walked in the other's skin - I was merely discussing a fact.  

There is this woman whom I had loved passionately for a year and a half. She was a beautiful, violent, drunk wreck. I believe I broke her heart when I left her after she stabbed herself in the stomach twice because she was having a jealousy fit over one girl I might have fucked (I did, the one and only time I was unfaithful to any one of my lovers). But she broke my heart long before that, one-third into the relationship as she started swinging her fists and strangling me. As months progressed into the relationship, I found myself increasingly alone, just her and me, as she got irate everytime she met my friends. And always the jealousy. Never warranted, but nevertheless there. For years after that, years and years, she used to send me crazy emails. But she was there this time, helping me out, giving me space, refraining from too many questions, dropping from time to time her reassurances that she had been happy for me, and that surely I would get back together with my ex - finally being the friend I so needed at the time I felt nothing made sense anymore. I did not expect her to be a friend at all, not after everything, but what do you know.

I don't really know why I am writing this entry. I guess I was thinking about friendships, what they mean to different people, who are friends, who you should count as your friends, etc. Random musings.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Hitler's dream come true, etc.

After going to the short rock-out performance at the C1 television (equal opportunity television, no less, a partner television of the LGBT Centre in its non-discrimination campaign, together with NTV and UBS), my evening continued at the Black Box Theater (yes, the very one that forbade the girls from the Young Women for Change to perform the transwomen's part of the Vagina Monologues back in March this year). This time it was the Globe International that organised the short movies evening at the theater. And I enjoyed it immensely. Naraa egch, the Globe's Executive Director, another LGBT rights supporter in Mongolia, always her wonderful and beautiful self, led the evening on, talking about the filmmaking and the making of short movies, a somewhat neglected area in Mongolia till the advent of the official 48 hours short film festival in Mongolia last year, organised by her son. When we were filming the campaign videos with Naraa egch, she was extremely excited about the project as she is a film script writer as well and loves cinema to bits. I was deeply moved by the fact that the very first 48 hours festival in Mongolia produced a Cannes-worthy project, "Dream", that was shown during the Cannes festival this year. But I have not opened my computer to write about the "Dream", the winner of last year's 48 hours festival. One of the three short films that were awarded audience appreciation prizes was called "Hitler's dream come true". As one of the co-organisers and donors, the German ambassador quickly made a disclaimer in his opening speech that the embassy had no hand in the choice of the films to be shown last night, and of course, that was the film that he was worried about. "Hitler's dream come true" was a chronicle of the ultranationalism in Mongolia, the film's starting point being 1990, with the main event of the movie taking place in 1999 and the depiction of the ultranationalist movement in 2010, when the film was made. 1990, the beginning of the democratic dream that made it possible to revive the history of Mongolia in its most glorious days during the Mongol Empire in the 13th and 14th centuries, all but forbidden throughout the socialist rule for the most part of the 20th century; 1999, the ultranationalist movement advent (indeed it started in 1999 as one of my close relatives was called time and again in the autumn of 1999 to join the anti-Chinese group that used to gather at the first maternity home then, of course, she never went) and 2010, when the BBC covered the ultranationalist movement in Mongolia, with all of its German nazi-period paraphernalia openly worn lovingly by the ultranationalists. There is even a nazi-themed bar in Ulaanbaatar, believe it or not. Never been to, won't, I don't have a death wish. Popular culture is a great gage of popular sentiment. A bar very much loved and frequented by nazi lovers who are oblivious to the fact that we would've been one of the first nations to be exterminated had the German-Japanese axis had the upper hand in the World War II, pop stars flaunting nazi uniforms and flags and the whole period-look in their music videos, nearly every building in Ulaanbaatar that has somewhere on it or in it a swastika, if not many, and a short film from the 48 hours that was given the audience prize... Plus increasingly violent attacks on foreigners in Mongolia, even women are not spared. A friend was smacked right in his face a month and a half ago when he was walking in broad daylight in the crowded part of the city, one of the major streets that runs from the State Department Store to the circus. A humanitarian NGO worker woman who was attacked and hit in the face and head and spat on by three men, again, in broad daylight. The list goes on. They were simply going about their business, not doing anything untoward, whose only fault seems to have been their skin and hair colour. And it's affecting not only foreigners. I was buying some food this afternoon. There was this boy in front of me ordering his food at the counter of one of the guanzes. He was a Mongolian-African mix. He asked one guy to please vacate the seat as he was sitting there. The guy, in his forties, a so-called mature age, came up and started verbally abusing the boy who would've been as old as his children, barely 15-16 years old, "You trash, you half-bloods". I called on his bullshit, asked him why he was abusing a boy who very politely said what he said. He started abusing me, I laughed him off, because at least he could not say the same "pure/impure blood" to me, I am and look quintessentially Mongolian. But I was glad that people around me started heckling him as well. This boy had the same beautiful colour of skin as my own cousin, and I know exactly how bad she was taunted by her classmates in school because of her colour. Back in early 2003, I went to her school once to deal with the principal of her school as she was doing nothing to punish the boy who threw a big bunch of keys in my cousin's face from a close range. She was bleeding profusely from two cuts on her forehead when I rushed there to see her. Racism, purity of blood, purity of genes - yes, I guess Hitler's dream came true in Mongolia. And it's unacceptable. It's a huge leap backwards for humanity. It's a shame on us as a nation. And yes, I do believe in the freedom of opinion, the freedom of speech, but not when such freedoms infringe upon other people's fundamental right to be through incitement of hatred.

Friday, July 8, 2011

Boys Climbing Ropes, etc.


С1-ийн "Их завсарлага" дээр өдөр очиж гурван хамтлагийн богино тоглолтыг үзэв. Хамгийн таалагдсан нь энэ Boys Climbing Ropes. Яг энэ бүрэлдэхүүнээрээ тоглож байсан. Гоцлол охин нь бол ер нь алжээлээ дээ. Энэ видеонд тэр охин дуулаагүй байна. Дуулвал бас л... Нээрээ мартсанаас Rock наадам болж байгаа шүү, хүмүүс ээ. Сонирхвол ийш

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Day 34, random

Not so much of a transition update. Just an update on life in general. Started taking calcium about 3-4 days ago, a month into the HRT, i.e. Acne's settling a bit, still quite bad though. A friend recommended I use some antibiotic-based cleanser, have to hunt for it. The appetite's normal, as in increased normal. My neck appears to be bulging little by little as the necklace I had pre-T appears to get higher every few days I remember to look at it. The body odour is killing me. It's getting stronger every day. Plus my hair really stinks by the end of the day. I am often finding that it's just so strong, and unpleasant. I do hope to get used to it soon...

Otherwise, life goes on. Hope to help out with advocacy and youth programme manager recruitment for the Centre - apply, peeps! Really looking forward to Huvsgul trip. Never been, very excited. Might even look up my rellies who have a camp out there. Although they may no longer even acknowledge my existence. But who cares, as long as I am friendly and open and lovely - I have not changed, I am just externalising what was inside, folks. Please stop your fainting. Love the fact that I am getting some interaction on my blog from readers - thank you, Бөбөг and Anonymous, especially - it's been fun, I don't know what I was scared of when I was vehement about not opening up commenting. 
Try Asia - 2011 is over. I volunteered to do some translations/interpretations for them free of charge, really enjoyed interpreting the opening and closing ceremonies - if I can't donate money, I will donate my time to worthy causes. I am very proud of these guys, Undrakhbayar from the Universal Progress Center and Avirmed akh from the Association of Wheelchair Citizens. On my way to the flash mob to remember 1 July (you can see my head between Ankhaa and Baya on the lower right corner of the picture by Үндэсний тойм), I bumped onto two of the participants as they were rolling around the bumpy roads of Ulaanbaatar. I was not at all surprised to learn that the biggest number of wheelchairs was broken in Ulaanbaatar, while two other teams fared rather well on their trips to Darkhan, Erdenet, Baganuur, Central province, etc. So much needs to happen to ensure disabled people in Mongolia are able to live in dignity. Signing off.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Theory 17: Veritas, etc

In truth we believe. Definitely I do. Not so much others. But truth remains. Whether one is able to recognise it or not. And truth prevails. Over and over and over. Things are so simple. Truth is simple and pure.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Гуниг

Би фейсбүүк ашиглаад дөнгөж гуравхан сар болсон. Мэдээж тэр орон зайг хэн хүний адил л ашигласан. 3-р сарын 2-ны өглөө ээжийнхээсээ гарахдаа "Надаас ичихээ больсон цагтаа надтай холбогдоорой" гээд гарсан ч өнгөрсөн долоо хоногт ээжийгээ нас барчиж гэж зүүдлээд санаа зовсондоо ээждээ мессеж явуулсан ч ямар ч хариугүй. Сая дүүгийнхээ ФБ-ээр нь шагайсан чинь дүү намайг "найз"-ынхаа тооноос хасчиж. Тэгээд л огшоод л ирэв. Би ээждээ, Ариунаа, Ачиймаа гэж хоёр эгчдээ, дүүдээ албаар, санаатайгаар, тэгэхээс тэгэх гэж гэм хор хийж явсангүй. Аа бас үгүй юм байна. Би том эгчдээ нэг удаа уурлаад, тэнэг зүйл хийж байсан нь 5-6 настайдаа баахан зургуудыг нь урчиж байсан юм. Тэгээд ээждээ зодуулж байсан. Өөрөөр би тэдэнд санаатайгаар, тэгэхээс тэгэх гэж хэзээ ч гэм хор хийж байсангүй. Гэтэл эд дахин дахин хэн гэдгээс минь үүдэн надаас татгалзаж байгаа нь энэ юм биз дээ. Хүн унана тусна, гунина, баярлана, жаргана. Хайрлана, дурлана, гэрлэнэ, хагацана. Гэтэл нэг эгч нь намайг амьдралдаа хамгийн их зовж шаналах үе болгонд газарт сөхрөөд мөлхөж буй миний дээрээс дэвслээд, үсчин цовхорч, хамгийн хүнд байдлаар сэтгэл рүү ус цацна. Нөгөөх нь нэг байшинд хоёр жил хамт ажиллачаад зөвхөн хүмүүсийн хажууд надтай мэндэлнэ. Хоёулханаа дайралдвал дуугарна гэж үгүй. Тэр хүнд би зургуудыг нь урснаас өөр яг ямар гэм хийчихсэнээ бодоод бодоод одоо хүртэл олдоггүй. Магад хуримынхаа нэг жилийн ойгоор ах дүү, хамаатнаа дуудахдаа дуудсанд уурласан юм болов уу. Цагаан сар хүртэл ээж, дунд эгчтэйгээ ярьсан хэвээр л байсан. Гэтэл хань ижлээсээ дөнгөж салчаад сэтгэл санааны гүн хямралд орсон байсан намайг гэгээрсэн эгч маань тавлан тавлаж, дахин дээрээс минь байж боломгүйгээр дэвсэлсэн. Өмнөх удаад арван хоёр жилийн өмнө. Түүний өмнө бас л түүнээс арван нэгэн жилийн өмнө. Дандаа уучилдаг байсан ч энэ удаад яагаад ч уучилж чадахгүйгээ би сайн мэднэ. Тэр сайхан ярьдаг зүйлээ хэзээ ч хэрэгжүүлдэггүй, хоосон "онолч". Яг экс шиг. Ярьдаг ч хийхээ мэддэггүй хүмүүсээс би даанч залхсан. Нэлээд хэдэн үеэл, бас тэр эгчдээ өөрийнхөө шинэ дугаарыг өгсөн байгаа, ээжтэй ямар нэгэн юм боллоо гэхэд хэлэх л байлгүй. Одоо хаяхаас өөр арга үлдсэнгүй. Сэтгэлд дүүрэн гуниг. Гэлээ гээд яах вэ. Миний амьдрал үргэлжилсээр.

Комментуудыг нээлээ

Нэг жаахан эрсдэлтэй байж магад зүйл хийлээ. Блог дээрээ хүмүүст комментлох боломж өгье гэж бодлоо. Зарим хүмүүстэй уулзахаар "Тэр бичлэгийн чинь тэр зүйлийг, энэ зүйлийг тодруулмаар байсан ч холбогдож мэдэхгүй байлаа. Комментоо нээвэл яг тухайн үед нь асуучихмаар байна" гэдэг. Нэг зүйлйиг анхааруулахад таны эрх чөлөө миний эрх чөлөө эхлэж буй газарт дуусч байгааг ойлгож, энэ орон зайд бусдын эрхэд бүү халдаарай. Үзэн ядалтын үг хэллэг, сэтгэл агуулсан комментыг энд хэзээ ч нийтлэхгүйгээ шууд хэлье. Коммент үлдээхийн тулд бичлэгийн нэрэн дээр дарж, бичлэгийг бүхэлд нь үзэхэд коммент үлдээж болно.

PS: Blogger draft-ыг ашиглаж байгаа учир одоохондоо бүх бичлэгээ коммент үлдээж болохоор өөрчлөх боломжгүй байгаа тул зөвхөн сүүлийн үед бичсэн бичлэгүүд дээр үлдээх боломжтой байна.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Day 29

Overdue update on my process. Not much to report, really, except I've noticed that my voice is going down quite a bit in the last one week. I really noticed it in the podcast we did yesterday that was just uploaded. I like my voice in it, it's on its way to where I want it to be. Obviously a very welcome development, because I get "Akh aa" all the time, but people are confused a bit in a visibly unplesant way - "Uu, akh aa, bish ee, egch ee, eeeeee aaaaaa..." - as soon as I open my mouth. Other things: my piss is still rank. No matter how much water/herbal teas I drink. It's just rancid, that's all. Apparently very common indeed among transitioning men. I was also glad to know that I am not the only one who gagged at my own body odour and piss stench, and apparently my reaction might have something to do with the fact that I love women, their smell, their bodies, their soul, their everything, so I had very little, if I could help, with men throughout my life, except for feeling myself to be one. Or wanting to be one, since the time I knew I was actually physically a girl. Apart from that: I am doing some crunches in the mornings when I remember, maybe 2-3 times a week, but that's pretty much the extent of all exercise I've been upto. But I've noticed that some of my muscles where I am not training are coming on quite well. So I've decided to join a gym from tomorrow. Will just have to take things day by day. Which has been my goal lately, must take every day as it comes, step by step, day by day, breath by breath. Fluid retention: gone. Irritability, anger, emotional ups and downs: inexistent from day one of T. (I just remembered that the last statement is not completely true. Everytime I came in contact with someone, just one single person, there was anger, but so little compared to what used to flare up inside before). That's all for now.

Жижиг зар

Өнөөдрөөс эхлэн сардаа нэг л блог "уншиж" байхаар боллоо. Уншдаг байсан бүх блогоо уншсан хэвээр байгаа ч тэдгээрийг нэргүй "дагаж" эхэллээ. Харин сардаа нэг л блог миний уншдаг блогоор бусдад харагдана. Харин би чимээгүй уншсаар л байгаа шүү. Шалтгаангүй. Зүгээр л байнга уншдаг блогууд хэмээх орон зай буюу миний хүндэлдэг блогуудыг буюу ертөнцүүдийг нэг нэгээр нь хүмүүст таниулвал арай далайцтай гэж бодсон хэрэг. 7-р сарын блог: "Хоёр сүнстэн".

Friday, July 1, 2011

Reunion, virtual - thank you, FB!

I just bumped onto an old school friend in the virtual space, and she's a poet now! One of the tasks to accomplish tomorrow is to buy her poetry book. My classmate the poet - a marked change from what I remember since she really talked in maths and maths only then. But she was kind. That hasn't changed. I last saw her eleven years ago, but before that I had last seen her when I was twelve, so another eleven years prior to that. When Russians left the country in the early 90s, there was no longer any point in staying in a Russian-instructed school. It was time to learn Mongolian properly. Which I did, by changing schools and undergoing a torment in the new school where everyone shunned me because of my skin problems and my suicide attempt. I was the crazy (I did try to kill myself, after all, there are 12 hours of my life I remember nothing of till date), lesioned and scaly, gangly, awkward teen. But the even deeper reason for changing schools was another friend, not this one... It's a long story in itself and needs another separate entry since I've been meaning to write about those months for years now, and to finally beg forgiveness from the one I had abandoned and had felt guilty about for years and years and years. To come back to this classmate of mine: it was amazing to touch base with her as it brought back many childhood memories. Like the extreme embarassment of my body, monthlies, breasts which I hated from the get-go (the shock horror of actually realising myself a girl) on the negative side, and on the positive, my first inroads into my true self. I don't remember which grade we were in at the time, but one winter I had an idea that we had to do a play, a modern Cinderella story. I chose the team of co-conspirators/artists in our class, chose one of the most beautiful girls - she was a Kazakh girl with soulful big eyes and raven hair - in the class as Cinderella, and I chose myself as the Prince Charming. I think I might've been nine or ten at the time. Or maybe even eleven. But I remember rehearsing in the snow outside the school building where I am kneeling in front of that girl, pretending to put the crystal shoe on her booted foot... We never did finish the play, but I remember so clearly my soaring imagination at the time: I was the Prince Charming, dressed in the medieval male gear, somehow light blue in my mind, with a flying cloak behind my shoulders, and I was a boy. I was the Prince. More than anything, I remember feeling so right thinking myself the boy that I must've by then realised I was not... I had not seen many of my classmates since then, just one or two, including the one I touched base with on the FB. And apparently they do meet from time to time. Reunions are an institution here, an excuse to get pissed, of course, just like anywhere. I might join them next time. Hopefully my voice would've changed more by then.

put on a face

put on a face                      a brave face, a dead face put on a face and go. put on a face                       a kind face, a br...