A Typical Monday in January

I hurried to get dressed, trying to remember my "warm formula"…one medium layer of thermals under the jeans, a thick layer of winter thermals over the jeans, an under shirt, two sweaters, a short length down coat, long thick wool scarf around my nose and mouth, a rabbit fur hat that covers my ears, two pairs of gloves, thick wool socks, sheep wool lined Ugg boots fitted with yak traks to keep from slipping on ice… I should hurry. My English class starts in an hour and a half and it's a 45-minute walk to the orphanage. No time for breakfast; I will have to wait until lunch when I eat with the kids. I leave some dried food out for the cats and walk out of my Russian style apartment building passing the trash lady in my cold graffiti ridden stairwell. I weave through New Darkhan through a shortcut of alleyways and narrow cracks between buildings. I ignore the holler of the meeker-seekers' "Yvax uu?" for I rather walk the long distance in -30C than pay 250T for a taxis ride one-way. My PC salary doesn't allow for such luxuries. I reach the long stretch of road that leads directly to the orphanage; I can see it in the distance. The field next to the road is barren so the wind blows extra hard during this stage of the walk. My throat and nose are being to hurt from breathing in the cold air. I pull my scarf tighter around my mouth. I finally reach the orphanage compound and walk through the main building. Khishgee, caretaker of the day, greets me and then asks why I am there. She then proceeds to tell me that all the teachers are on holiday that week, which includes me. Didn't I get the message? I had not though I've gotten used to being told important information at the very last minute. I put back on my scarf and start the cold journey back home.