Wow. You can't see anything
from up here, it's perfect.

This is going to make it much easier.

I'm Julie Veloo, and I'm here today
to talk to you about a moment in my life

that profoundly changed my life.

I had an opportunity to truly see a group
of people that were largely undiscovered

More or less living in the shadows
here in Ulaanbaatar.

And seeing them led me to a decision
which changed not only my life

but theirs and the lives of many others.

I talk about the people who make a living
scavenging up at the garbage dump.

I first came up to them three years ago
when I moved to Mongolia.

When I came here, I was expecting
to do volunteer work

with the foundation
that I'm the vice president of.

I was expecting to do
'regular' volunteer work

which meant, more or less,
just bringing clothes to people,

working with the existing organizations,

and finding children
who needed help and helping them.

I wasn't really expecting what came next.

When I first met the people
up at the dump,

I was sort of confused.

I thought: "Who are these people
and why are they working up at the dump?"

These are people who strap their babies
to their backs and take them up there.

When they get too big to be strapped
to their backs, they get left home alone,

or they get left home
with a 6 or 7 year old sibling,

who surprisingly, doesn't do
a very good job of taking care

of their infant and toddler
sisters and brothers.

So, I was confused.
Like, why don't they have a real job?

Well, it turns out that most of the people

who are working at the dump
used to be herders.

A few years ago,
when we had a really bad winter

and over 9 million animals died,

they were forced to give up
their lifestyle out in the countryside,

their beautiful, beautiful,
traditional Mongolian lifestyle,

that's so much in touch with the land
and so much in touch with nature

as they follow the pastures
with their herds.

Traditional Mongolian lifestyle requires
people to be competent and capable.

It requires that they
are really self-reliant individuals,

and the only problem of course is, without
animals, you can't live that lifestyle.

So, when they were forced to move to
the city because they had no animals left,

they found themselves
with an amazing set of skills

none of which actually applied
to their current life in the city.

So, they were forced onto the garbage dump

to try and find food, or fuel, or clothes,

anything that they need for their lives.

An average day up at the garbage dump
will net you about 10,000 tugriks.

That means everybody in the family has
to work in order to make the ends meet,

that means, Moms, Dads
Grandmas, Grandpas, children.

And that's sort of where
this story starts.

I want to tell you about the day
that coalesced into this decision,

that has resulted in the creation
of the Children of the Peak Sanctuary.

It started when I went
with my local NGO partner, Baaska

- who himself was a dump child
and grew up eating garbage himself,

so he's very familiar
with the people in the community -

up with a load of clothes
and blankets and what not to give out,

and I met some amazing people.

The first person that I met is Sarnai.
Sarnai is an amazing lady.

She is illiterate. She dropped
out of school in first grade.

I'm not sure you can actually drop out
of school in first grade,

but that's what happened to her.

Her mother died, and so she had to
stay home and take care of her siblings.

She knows quite a lot then
about children taking care of children.

Few years ago she was
up at the dump scavenging,

and she had her then youngest
of four children strapped to her back

- a little four month-old baby boy -

and she came across something in
the garbage that is not all that uncommon.

She came across a little,
discarded baby girl, two days old.

She did what everybody would do,

she picked the baby up and took
her home started raising her as her own.

That's what everybody would do,
right? Maybe not.

Maybe people would give it
to an orphanage or some other place,

but she's an amazing woman, obviously
not from an upper socioeconomic level,

But her heart and generosity is so great

that she took the child home
and was raising her as her own.

Now, just as an aside,
in the last 4 years,

there's been 17 such children
found at the garbage dump.

Now, think about
that last slide that we saw

that had all those big machines
and stuff going.

Of those 17 children, most of them
are now living in state-run orphanages.

Some of them actually have, like Sarnai,
some generous people from the dump

have taken the children home
and are raising them as their own.

But when I met her

- obviously this was wonderful
that this girl was saved -

but I was profoundly upset and just
enraged about the complete injustice

that there are women about there,
young women presumably,

who feel they have no option

except for them to discard
their baby in the garbage dump.

And of course, upset about the injustice
for the babies who being discarded there.

And I was moved on a level
that I don't often get moved on;

just the profound wrongness
of it on every level

was something that resonated.

And when I left her house,
I was really upset about the situation

that the children, and the families,

and the women up there
were finding themselves in.

So then we took some more clothes,
and we went to the next house.

I use the term 'house' very loosely.
It was really a shack.

Eight people live here. there was only
one person at home when we got there.

It was a little boy. He was 9 years old.
And he was homesick.

The rest of his family was up
at the dump scavenging for garbage,

but he was too sick to go.

He was too sick to go to the dump,

he was home alone with no TV, no Nintendo,

no Mom, no juice,
no medicine, no snugly blankets,

no fire, more importantly,
and it was minus 25 that day.

You can't help but be appalled

by the injustice that his choice
for the day being sick

was to stay home and huddle
under a filthy blanket

or go up to the dump; tough choice.

We took him over,
you know, to a neighbor's house,

so that we could get warmed up
and get some soup.

As I was leaving from there I just was
overwhelmed by the difficult choices

that all those people up there
in this community were making,

particularly given the wonderful
self-reliant nature of these people.

Just because of the circumstances
of now being in this position,

they are forced to make
these kinds of decision

which people shouldn't have to make.

Then, we went to a Ger and I imagine
most of you are familiar with gers.

You know, the circular wooden structures,

two layers of felt in the winter,
a bit of plastic, some canvas. Yes?

They're wonderful wonderful
portable dwellings

for the traditional Mongolian nomad.

And in the middle they have a stove,

which when the fire is lit
and it's minus 25 outside,

these are beautiful, cozy,
warm, lovely, lovely dwellings.

But when it's minus 25 outside
and there is no fire and no fuel,

it's not that cozy.

When we walked into this Ger,
and I saw these 2 little children there,

this is the culmination,
this is the moment,

that really led to everything else
that came afterwards.

You walk into a Ger, and you see a little
6-year-old boy with his baby sister.

She was just two. She was half dressed.
She had a t-shirt on and nothing else.

She was covered in burns from having
previously fallen against the fire,

and he was dirty and playing
with little broken bits of toys,

that he had scavenged
from the dump himself

- because he works at the dump,
or he did work at the dump

when someone else
was watching his baby sister.

I was of course shocked and horrified
and all of those things that one is,

but the thing that really got to me
was that he looked at us

with this complete stricken look
on his face and he said:

"Oh, I'm so sorry,"
- (Mongolian) Uuchlaarai, uuchlaarai -

- (Mongolian) Suutei tsai baikhgui -
"I have no tea."

And I was appalled really
that we had put this poor boy

who was already taking on the role
of father, and mother, and caregiver,

and everything, and we had
put him in the position of feeling bad

because culturally, as you probably
all know, most of you,

if you enter a Mongolian household,
the very first thing that will happen

is they will always offer you something
to drink and something to eat.

And he had neither, and he felt horrible.

And that's the moment
at which, more or less...

- I can't say I made a decision
because I didn't really,

the decision arrived fully formed -

that these children,
these families, this community

required someplace safe
and warm for the children.

They needed to be able
to have some security

so that they could move forward

and claim their own lives
reclaim their own lives really.

So that was when the decision to create

the Children of the Peak Sanctuary
was conceived.

Giving birth to it
was quite a bit more difficult.

In the immortal words
of Martin Luther King:

"Sometimes you have to do something
just because it is right."

And that's why we did this.
Because it was right.

And I'm not telling you this

just because of this
particular circumstance.

It's really important to understand
that everybody, all of you,

if you haven't had one already, you will,

you will have one of these moments
in your life, maybe more,

where right and wrong are just there,
right in front of you.

And you are going to be forced to decide,

be forced to make a decision
which way you're going to go.

And I want to tell you
that if you choose to do the right thing

the rest of the world will line up
behind you and go along.

(Applause)

Thank you.

(Applause)

Thank you.

My moment was spurred
by a similar pivotal moment for Sarnai.

I can only imagine
when she was at the dump,

and she saw the little girl in the red

- she's the one that was found
discarded at the dump,

and this is her slightly older brother,
this giggling monster there -

she at that moment made the decision,
she brought the child home.

And my decision to move forward
with the sanctuary built on her decision.

But really, when you're making
those decisions, and it's so scary,

you feel like: "I can't do this
because I don't know what I'm doing,"

I want to tell you, I had really
no business making this decision;

I was going to build this sanctuary.
It was going to magically happen.

I knew nothing about construction
and nothing about kindergartens,

I knew nothing about Mongolian law,
or land practice, or anything.

But that didn't matter,
I was moving forward.

So we started looking around
and deciding how to do this.

we found a local fellow who runs an NGO

that rehabilitates homeless alcoholics
and teaches them construction skills.

so we went with him to design
and build these fiberglass gers.

They look like gers,
They're not really gers

because they don't have
a stove in the middle.

They have in-floor electric heating
which is pretty cool up at the dump.

It's actually pretty warm,
but it's pretty cool, I think.

So the children, when they come,
they have warm floors to play on.

But it wasn't all sunshine and roses.
We had our share of problems.

The building that was on the site
looked fine, it looked great.

The ceiling was really low.
When I walked in it, it was about there.

There was a light bulb hanging down
that I thought was going to kill me.

So I said, "Let's just raise the ceiling."

When we raised the ceiling we discovered
the insulation was entirely cardboard

so that quick renovation
turned into a major rebuild, as it does.

The point is it was expensive, and it was
difficult, and it delayed the project,

but it didn't matter
because all of that is just stuff.

When the decision is made, the goal is
you're going that way and you just go,

all the rest of the stuff in the middle
is just stuff you have to get through.

And we got through it.

And I'm very happy to say
that we have a center now.

(Applause) Yeah!

Every day, Monday through Friday,
we have 40 children from the dump

up at our kindergarten safe, warm,
fed, educated, learning social skills

getting into mischief,
pulling each other's hair.

I'm not going into
all the details, but basically,

we have these children taken care of

which enables their older
siblings to go to school,

and their parents to start
looking at moving forward.

This didn't happen all by itself.

As I said earlier when you make a decision
the rest of the world lines up behind it,

and I am touched, amazed, and honored by
all of the generosity that just came out.

I made the decision to do this,
and that seemed to create opportunities

for other people looking at that
to make their own decision about it.

And I can't tell you

- well, I can actually, I'll tell you
all of the things that happened -

I've had people phone me up and say:

"Julie, we really, really want to do
a fundraiser for you. Is that OK?"

No. No, don't do that.

Don't raise money for my foundation.
That would be bad.

Of course you can. Thank you so much.

We've had people from Australia,
from Canada, from America,

there's Slovenia, England,
Dubai, South Africa.

No South Americans, I must say,
But pretty much everywhere else.

We've had donations from people,
We've had corporations step up and say:

"I think you're doing a great thing.
We want to give you some money."

We were called by government and said:
"We think you should apply for our grant."

OK, well, I'll do that.

It was 30-pages of paperwork,
it was quite difficult,

but hey, they gave us money
which allowed us to buy

a whole bunch of really gorgeous
things for the kids.

As a matter of fact,
so many people have helped us:

we've had local people volunteer;
one of my friends stepped up and said:

"Hey Julie, I'm not doing anything.

How about I spend 20 hours
a week helping you?"

OK, you can do that.
That would be great.

I had people from Canada
make a really beautiful piece of jewelry

that was auctioned to raise funds.

The point is so many people
have helped on so many levels.

The most touching one for me really was --

There was a group of Australians
having a multifamily garage sale.

When the children from the families
found out what was going on

they of their own volition apparently
went to their bedrooms

got their favorite toys, brought them out,
gave them to their parents and said:

"Sell theses and give the money
to those children in Mongolia."

I'm not sure the parents
were happy about this

because usually, the favorite toys
are the expensive ones.

(Applause)

For me the touching part of that
of course is that my decision,

what we're doing here
reached all the way across the world

and showed children
that they can make a difference,

that their decisions to help someone
somewhere else are real and valid,

and that they have that possibility.

So, like I said, tidal wave
of support behind us

has allowed us to bring
our 5-year term goals forward,

and so, we're looking in the next year
to do a whole bunch of initiatives,

one of which is to do vocational training
for the parents to try to get them

a way to use their skills
to get them off of the dump.

We want to do after school programs
for the older kids that are behind

because they've been at home
taking care of their siblings.

We have a vocational program for the women
to come and volunteer at our center,

and if they have aptitude and interest
we'll help them go and get certifications

so that they can get a job
at another kindergarten,

open their own daycare,
do all manner of things.

We're starting a washing business
for one of the local ladies

so that the children, whose clothes
are too dirty to go to school,

will be able to have clean clothes

so when they go to school,
nobody will laugh at them and say:

"Oh, look, there's the dump kid."

The most important and certainly
the most expensive one that's coming up

we're building a hot water
shower facility for the community.

I love Mongolia first of all,
I have to say this.

The local Khoroo director gave us
the road in front of our center:

"Take it. Just have the road."
How does that happen?

People don't give you a road,
but he gave us a road and said:

"If you're building a hot water facility
you can have this road."

We're just going to put a fence up
and build it. We'll see how that goes.

Our local community, right at the moment,

if they want to have a hot shower,
they have to walk about 40 minutes.

When they arrive there, are often turned
away because they're too dirty to shower.

Which does create something
of a Catch22 situation:

if you're too dirty to get clean.

If they're going to get clean at home,
they have to go to the well,

buy the water, carry it home, heat it up.

If you're a person who makes
your living at the dump,

by the time you buy the water
and carry it home,

you're boiling it or your drinking it,
you are not cleaning with it.

Recently, we were really, really
honored and very fortunate

to be visited by the wife
of the Governor General of Canada.

We wanted to give her
something special from the children

so we gave each of the children a piece
of Ger felt, and they made felt gers,

- I love saying that:
"They made felt gers with Ger felt." -

and we gave them lots of things
to decorate with,

and we said: "Make this Ger
look like your Ger."

How do you see your Ger?
What does it look like?

And I was so touched and honored
when I saw that they thought

that their gers were happy,
glittering, beautiful places.

When we put it all together on the board
to make it look like our community,

that's what it came up looking like.

It does kind of look like our community.
We've got the hills and the sky.

The hope that I have is that the work
that we're doing up there

will make the reality of the community
match the children's representation,

that it will be a happy, healthy,
glittering, beautiful place to live.

Just in case you're curious, the children
that brought me to this point,

the little 9-year old boy
that was in the little shack,

his family has moved away,
and we don't know where they've gone.

I hope they've gone
someplace safe and warm.

But this happens in the community,
people they just sort of...

One day they're there,
the next day their Ger is gone.

The little girl and boy, the one who was
found at the dump and her brother,

are at our center getting ready
to go to first grade next year.

They're learning. They know their numbers
their colors, most of their letters.

She's kind of a bossy,
little thing, actually,

she organizes all the children
into tea parties.

I think she may well be
your president someday.

Munkhchimeg, our little girl

who was shivering, and half naked,
and covered in burns by the fire,

- that's her giving the gift
to the Governor General's wife -

when I go up there and I see her
running, laughing, being happy,

and just being a kid,

it makes the rightness
of what I've done apparent to me.

That's really all that matters.
All the rest of it is just stuff.

I had to go back a long way
for this quote, way back to Pythagoras.

He's been dead a long time,

but it doesn't change the fact
that choices are the hinges of destiny.

I really hope that people realize

that your choices will change your destiny

and potentially,
the destiny of other people.

I know that my choice to build a sanctuary
has certainly changed my destiny,

And I really hope

that the door that it opened
for these children,

opened a whole new future for them.

And I hope that they are able

to skip through that door,
and grab that future with both hands,

and live the life
that they so richly deserve;

them, and their families,
and the whole community.

Thank you.

(Applause)