By D.CHANTSALMAA
A Peace Corps volunteer Jonah Tolbert arrived in Mongolia in June 2025 as a first-time teacher and a first-time visitor to the country. A data analytics graduate from rural Illinois, he now teaches English at one of the public schools in a local area, runs an introductory Excel club for students, and volunteers with two local organizations. Off the clock, he’s become something of a local fixture: an avid marathon runner. In this conversation, Jonah Tolbert reflects on his service until now.
Before you arrived, what did you actually know about Mongolia, and how did that image compare to the reality of your first few months?
Honestly, two things came to mind: Chinggis Khaan, and Long Way Round, the early-2000s travel series with Ewan McGregor, who rode a motorcycle from London to Russia through Mongolia. When I got my assignment, I mostly pictured him exhausted, crossing this enormous, empty landscape. And walking out of Chinggis Khaan International Airport for the first time, it did look a lot like what I’d imagined. But the longer I’ve stayed, the more I’ve realized there’s so much more to this country than open fields.
Can you please describe the exact moment you realized, “Okay, I actually live here now.”
I’d say it was shortly after Tsagaan Sar. I spent my first two months in Nalaikh District in Ulaanbaatar City, still finding my footing. But after Tsagaan Sar, after visiting maybe 10 different households for the holiday, something clicked. I understood the school system better, I felt comfortable at work, and I remember thinking, I think I actually live here now. I loved that you could just call someone, say “I’m coming over,” and there would be food waiting. That’s not something I was used to back home, but I thought it was wonderful.
What surprised you most about Mongolian classrooms compared to what you expected?
The biggest difference was that students stay in one classroom with the same classmates from first grade all the way through 12th. It threw me off at first, but now I actually find it useful; when I’m building my schedule, I already know exactly which class each student belongs to.
Where I grew up, the system was the opposite. Eight or nine classes a day, switching rooms every 40 minutes, and a huge range of extracurriculars. I ran track and did a quiz or trivia myself. That variety of choice is something I’m trying to bring to my school here. We have some clubs and activities, but I’d like students to have more options to choose from.
Was there a teaching habit from home that just didn’t work here?
The classroom greeting ritual. When the whole class says, “Hi, teacher, how are you doing?” It made me anxious at first, and I tried to skip past it by just saying “please, sit down”. Back in the U.S., a teacher just walks in and starts teaching, “Hi, how are you all?” is more of a formality than a ritual.
How do Mongolian students’ relationship to English differ from what you’ve seen elsewhere? What motivates them, and what do they struggle with?
I studied in Spain for four months before, but nothing prepared me for how many students learn English through video games. When I ask kids how they got good at English, a huge number say it’s from gaming. I have at least 10 students at my school who’ll tell you that’s their main source. I met someone in Denmark who said the same thing, that he first heard English through video games. I knew YouTube was a big part of language learning, but I had no idea gaming was this significant.
Do you think that’s a good thing?
It’s a mixed bag. I don’t encourage playing eight hours of video games a day, and that’s not really what my students are doing either, but they are learning. I think what’s really happening is they’re meeting new people through it, which comes with its own risks, especially for young people talking to strangers online. But there’s clearly something there worth understanding and channeling better.
What was the first joke or phrase you understood in Mongolian?
It’s “Biyu” (Am I?). I heard it for the first time and thought something funny was happening. Turns out it’s just students saying this when I call on them in class, since I do that a lot. Once I understood it, it clicked immediately.
Besides calling on students, what other teaching methods do you use?
Mongolian students tend to be very competitive, and I noticed early on that a lesson straight out of a textbook doesn’t hold their attention the way a game does. So games have become central to how I teach, and it’s something I want to build on in my second year. They want to win, and I use that; sometimes I trick them into learning something along the way.
What’s something you wish Mongolian teachers would use more in the classroom?
Interactive, hands-on activities such as getting students up and moving. I’ve actually seen this grow a lot since I arrived. If you show a student a picture of a chair, they might remember the word. But if I get up and physically act out “this is a chair,” acting silly and energetic about it, it tends to stick even better. I try to be pretty ridiculous when introducing new vocabulary, and the other teachers have picked up on it. Now they’ve started making more slideshows and using more visual, physical activities themselves. It was already happening a bit before I got here, but it keeps growing.
Does that “silly acting” approach work as well with older students?
Not as much, honestly, the vocabulary gets more abstract and complex, so it’s harder to demonstrate. That’s actually part of why I enjoy teaching middle school the most. High school lets you get into more complex material, but with younger students I can see the gears turning much more clearly.
Was it difficult switching into teaching from a completely different field?
Definitely, I’d never taught before this. But I’ve genuinely enjoyed learning how to teach English, and watching students have that moment of understanding is one of the best parts of the job. Some students have strong grammar and vocabulary early on but lack confidence, and their spoken English is shaky. Looking back at a few students now, a year later, I can see how much their confidence and fluency have grown. That’s been really rewarding.
What differences have you noticed between life in Ulaanbaatar and life in the countryside?
Ulaanbaatar is busier and much more about who you know. You have to work harder to make yourself known there. In the countryside, everyone already knows everyone; I’m one of the only foreigners in town, so people already know me as “the foreigner with the bright yellow backpack” who teaches at the local school. Ulaanbaatar is where most of the business happens in Mongolia, and it comes with real traffic.
Whenever I ask people in the countryside if they’d want to live in Ulaanbaatar, the answer is almost always no, and the reason is always the traffic. But the capital does offer a lot: far more variety of food.
You’re known for running. When did your running journey start in the first place?
I ran in high school, but I wasn’t particularly good—kind of lazy, honestly. Then COVID-19 hit during my junior year, and running every single day became a habit that stuck. In university I joined a running club—casual, but with enough of a competitive edge that I liked. A group of us eventually decided to run a marathon together. Before that, five kilometers was about my limit. A marathon is 42. But once I ran that first one, I couldn’t stop—I’ve now run six. It’s become a bit addictive. It’s also something I can do anywhere in the world, it’s cheaper than a gym membership, and it gives me something to do.
How did that start for you here?
Whenever I move to a new city, I map it out in my head by running. I’ll head in a different direction each time until I have a set of routes: one north, one south, one west, and so on. I now have about four regular paths through the soum that I’m living in right now. One of the first things I do when I move anywhere is check the local race calendar. In Mongolia, I quickly learned that marathons are often announced only a month or two in advance. Elsewhere in the world, it’s usually closer to eight months to a year out. My running friends abroad think that’s wild, since some marathons require months of training beforehand. But if you track the dates, you can usually predict when the next one will be and start training early anyway.
What was it like watching two of the boys you’ve mentored participate in the national marathon this year?
It was really special. It started casually, they noticed I ran and started asking how far, and it grew from there. We began running together on Sunday afternoons, and I ended up teaching them running vocabulary too, like “pace” or “fit”—in running slang.
When the marathon was announced, we decided to run it together. One of them ended up starting a running club of his own at school, just for classmates. As for my own race, I actually ended up leading it for the last 15 kilometers, running solo, which I hadn’t expected at all. It was a great race.
Is the running community here different from back home?
Very different. There is a running club here, but the scene isn’t as layered as it is in the U.S., where you have everything from casual joggers to dedicated professional clubs. In Mongolia there’s really only one club that’s more competitive, and—I’ll be honest—I’m probably not even fast enough for that group. A solid “middle tier” is harder to find here. But it’s growing, partly because Western running culture is becoming more popular, things like meeting up for coffee after a run are starting to catch on.
