This essay was excerpted from an interview conducted in 2021 as part of the ongoing Columbia Pike Documentary Project, a collective portrait of Arlington’s most diverse corridor combining photography and oral histories. Launched in 2007, the documentary project has resulted in three published books and was prominently featured in the 2023 exhibit “A World in a Zip Code” at the Museum of Contemporary Art Arlington (MoCA). The project is also in the permanent archive of the Library of Virginia.
My name is Maral Gankhuyag. I was born in Mongolia, in the capital city, Ulaanbaatar. My mom’s from Selenge, which is in the upper part of the country, by Russia. My dad is from the west, Bayankhongor—what comes to mind when you think about the Mongolian countryside, the steppes, the yurts.
I was 2 years old when we came to the U.S. We lived at River Place in Rosslyn and moved to Columbia Pike during my freshman year at Yorktown High School. My mom is a medical doctor. She was an ophthalmologist in Mongolia, but when we moved here, her license didn’t transfer, so she started school all over again. Now she’s working as a nurse supervisor.
My dad is an artist. He makes traditional Mongolian masks.
As kids, my brother and I went to Mongolian school every Saturday to study the language, history and culture. At the end of the day, they would have extracurriculars such as music lessons or traditional Mongolian wrestling. We did Mongolian traditional dance. Without that school, I don’t think we would have met other Mongolian kids. In public school we had our own friend groups.
I speak Mongolian with an American accent. I wouldn’t say I’m fluent, but I can communicate. When I am with other young Mongolians, we speak the language if we want to gossip in public, but we’re more comfortable with English.
When I was younger, my background was something I didn’t share with my peers. I wanted to fit in and assimilate. I wouldn’t invite anyone to our apartment because I thought, Oh, I don’t live in a big house. My house isn’t decorated the same. I was shy.
At Arlington Science Focus Elementary, I was put in a HILT (high-intensity language training) class. People assumed I didn’t know how to speak English—and I didn’t for a long time because my parents spoke Mongolian at home.
I’m not sure whether English was truly hard for me to pick up, or hard because people assumed I wasn’t good at it. I do know that English class gave me anxiety in middle school and high school. I had one English teacher who would always fail me on my essays. I really liked the creative aspect of writing, but the school system made me feel like I shouldn’t be in writing.
When we were kids, my dad would do flea markets or shows in New York. We would take the Greyhound bus up. It was exciting. I really liked the city. I ended up going to college at the Fashion Institute of Technology in Manhattan, earning an associate degree in fashion business management and a B.S. in advertising and marketing communications.
Outside of sketches and small projects for myself, I don’t do a lot of fashion design. I’ll sew skirts and shirts for myself and friends, or I’ll knit something, but I’m not interested in creating my own design brand right now. Maybe later I will.
I’m planning to stay in New York. I see a future here. It’s expensive, but you can walk to a gallery around the corner or take the subway just about anywhere. The lifestyle is very experience based. You can go do something different every hour.
I spent a year at home in Virginia during Covid. Arlington is changing. There are still a lot of families, but now I feel like I’m seeing more younger single people moving in, and not as many families in the apartments. My parents recently moved out to Manassas, to a big house on an acre of land. Their money goes a lot farther out there.
If I were to write my own story, my first instinct would be to start with my family. I have a lot of pride in who I am. My parents are strong; they’re hustlers. My Mongolian family members are hardworking, humble, honest people. Mongolians pride themselves on being witty, quick on their feet and able to get things done.
As a teenager, I worked at the Mongolian school in Arlington for a little bit. Every time we had an issue, there was a solution. They’d be like, “Let’s do it.” Maybe we forgot a costume for a little girl who had to go onstage in five minutes. All the Mongolian ladies would come together, throw together some fabric, sew it all up and then boom—she’s onstage. Problem fixed. Mongolian people are very accepting, and they like to work together.
I remember a funny story. My dad manages a Mongolian band that tours sometimes. As a little girl, I was on tour with the band in Denmark. They had two humped camels there—Bactrian camels. The sponsors of the event told us the camels were from Mongolia. We had the morin khuur with us (a traditional Mongolian horsehead fiddle with two strings) and one of the musicians started playing it. The camels came running toward us and it seemed like they were listening. Then they started making noises that sounded like crying. Mongolian culture is so cool. You just feel it. It’s very intuitive.
When you hear the morin khuur played in a room full of Mongolian people, you get the sense that everyone feels something in their heart from it.
Maral Gankhuyag works in marketing and communications for BeautyMatter, a Manhattan-based media company covering the beauty industry. Interview and photo by longtime Arlington resident, photographer and Columbia Pike Documentary Project co-founder Lloyd Wolf.