Rosie is back from Mongolia

Imagine a seventeen year old on a home stray with a nomadic family on the steppes of Mongolia. Rosie is my granddaughter who turned 17 in May. She was living with a family with parents and two children who herd animals, mostly goats and sheep, but they also have cows and horses. She just got back home on Friday.

The Mongolian family knows no English, Rosie knows words from her one week of language training  when she arrived with 14 of her American peers in the capital of Ulaanbaatar (which Rosie shortens to UB as do the natives.) I was concerned about this 5 day portion of the trip  because there were no peers any of the 5 days. When I told my daughter Phaedra I was concerned, Phaedra said that Rosie told her that was her favorite part of the trip. WOW!

Rosie was part of a group of 15 high school students funded in part by The Experiment in International Living who managed the month long trip. Students came from various parts of the country and Rosie joined this group through the San Francisco World Affairs Council.

For Rosie’s full itinerary please go to MNN ShortItin 2018   

Our family gathered in San Francisco for a family dinner on Saturday ostensibly to help celebrate Joseph’s 13th birthday which he spent at Camp Tawonga in the Sierra on July 15. But we all knew that it was out first opportunity to hear about Rosie’s Mongolia and she and her photos and adventures were likely to steal the show. Joseph was extremely kind and generous and went along with the interest, even though he wanted to show  some photos of his. I know we will see Joseph’s photos soon.

On the tree at the Barn is the Mongolian Prayer Flag dedicated to grandmothers is the flag given to me by Rosie. Since it needs to be outside to spread the benefits of the prayers, I hung it on a branch of one of the crepe myrtles I planted at the edge of the pasture. It joins my the prayers from flags brought from India some years ago and which are hanging erratically through the large bay tree on the eastern edge. The important thing is that as the wind blows the prayers are scattered to all, especially those close to the flags.