Tsatsaa R.
Resilience
It was hard, moving to the United States in 2018, and leaving behind my friends and family in Mongolia. It was harder, moving to Utah. Everywhere I looked there were people with blonde hair and blue eyes. And then there was me.
I had a single cousin in Salt Lake City. Outside of that, I was the only Asian person I knew. It was the first time in my life that I was considered a minority. And every time I fumbled over my English, or missed a cultural reference, or forced to answer questions like “Are you related to Genghis Khan?”, I felt like I didn’t belong in the U.S.
I’m not going to lie: six years later, living in Utah still challenging. But I’m married now to a wonderful man and last year we gave birth to twin boys — who have African American, Irish, Mongolian, and Panamanian heritage. And last August, my parents flew across the world to meet their grandchildren for the first time. Together, we cooked huushuur and buuz, we shared old memories, and we found Mongolian cartoons to share with the twins on YouTube.
Basically, my parents brought the gift of Mongolia to me. And after they returned home, they left with me a reminder that I can build a little Mongolia right here in Utah. Even if it’s just the size of our condo.
