The first trip overseas by a priest who is now working here with seamen
and the foreign community was to the land of the descendents of Genghis
Khan. He took note of the wide-open plains, the blue sky and the many
horses and sheep. Though the language was different, their facial features
were the same as his own.
He went to Mongolia to
help a Korean missionary priest who had gone there some ten years
earlier. During the priest's visit, he traveled far and
wide and ended up at an isolated ranch. Mongolians are famous for their
portable tents, and it was in these circumstances that he had his first
experience of the nomadic life. No electricity, no water and no toilets
made life extremely difficult, but it was the lack of toilets that was the biggest
hardship.
A small hole in the ground, surrounded by a fence,
right behind the tent, was his toilet. Eating and defecating were seen
as similar activities, both without needing privacy; in fact there were
no rocks, trees or other objects that would provide privacy. The
children, especially, felt no need to find a private place, any place
would do. They just lowered their pants and did their
business. There was no need to avoid the eyes of others; laughing,
they would look at you. It was the priest who was embarrassed.
Last week, the priest went to a center
for children of foreign workers. The weather was cold, and he wondered
how the Mongolians in their country were making out. The recent move of
the children's center to this new area, which was a factory area, had
been completed and everything was in order. The Mongolians here in the
city are no longer nomads but making money in the factories. On that day
he was caring for three of the Mongolian children who were
sometimes crawling on the floor and sometimes walking and falling, and always shouting.
He
spent time playing with the children using the toys available.
Conscious of a strange smell he thought was from the factories
surrounding the center, he took one of the children and placed him on
his
knee while riding a toy horse. He noticed that the child was wet with a
chestnut-sized dropping from the back side of the child; the child was laughing. Too much dissimulation is not a good
thing, the priest reflected, when eating and excreting waste from the body is part of
the natural process.
He lowered the child's pants and saw
the big 'Mongolian spot' and the child laughing all the while. He
remembered the children he met 10 years ago in Mongolia who
were out behind the tent, laughing and relieving themselves. You guys
grow up strong, he silently wished, and hoped that their lives back in
their country riding their
horses would be happy.
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