My Kazakhstan/Central Asia Reading List

I’m in quarantine!

Not American-style quarantine where we were all, “I’m quarantining except when I stop by Target for a few essentials.” Real quarantine, where cameras make sure I don’t leave my room, meals are left outside my hotel room three times a day, I have to report my temperature twice a day and get tested for Covid every few days, and I don’t actually see people at all, except when someone in full PPE comes to stick swabs up my nose and down my throat. 

All my meals include fresh fruit, which is sometimes not entirely recognizable but nonetheless appreciated!

To keep myself busy, I thought I’d do a blog post that was long in my mind during my time in Kazakhstan when I found that books about the Soviet ‘stans, at least in English, weren’t easy to come by. Even super librarian Nancy Pearl wasn’t much help.

The combined number of books about Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan in Nancy Pearl’s travel book? ZERO.

So with all this time on my hands, I can document the results of my reading efforts in case any random internet user is ever looking for (mostly) non-academic books about Soviet Central Asia. Feel free to skip this post if you’re not interested in reading about me, reading about Central Asia. Hopefully my next post will be post-quarantine, full of interesting tidbits about my new home. 

Apples Are From Kazakhstan by Christopher Robbins: A pretty breezy travelogue until midway through when the author gains tremendous access to (now former) president Nursultan Nazarbayev and, seemingly because of that, forms an awfully rosy view of him. So it’s about Kazakhstan but also a lesson about the perils of access journalism (Hello Maggie Haberman)?

Letters from Between the Humps: Adventures and Misadventures in Kazakhstan by Patricia Vail: self-published memoir by an American lawyer volunteering in Almaty when Kazakhstan was newly independent. I enjoyed the picture of 1990s Almaty. Some things I recognized as 100% “my” Almaty while other things were completely different.

Lands of Lost Borders: A Journey on the Silk Road by Kate Harris: Authored by an over-achieving academic, scientist, adventure traveler, and writer. Perhaps not the best read for anyone prone to an inferiority complex. Kazakhstan is only a small part of the overall journey but it was still a good read. 

A Thousand Sisters: The Heroic Airwomen of the Soviet Union in World War II by Elizabeth Wein: Young Adult non-fiction, includes only a tiny morsel about Kazakhstan: one of the “Night Witches” who flew in combat against the Nazis was Khiuaz Dospanova, a Kazakh who fought for the USSR as a pilot, navigator, and gunner.

The Hungry Steppe: Famine, Violence, and the Making of Soviet Kazakhstan by Sarah Cameron: The Ukrainians lost between 3 and 7.5 million of their population during the Holodomor, the famine of 1932-33. The Kazakhs “only” lost 1.5 to 2.3 million. But as a percentage of population, the Kazakh famine, in which 38% of Kazakhs died, killed the greatest percentage of one specific ethnicity. Scholars debate whether these famines qualify as genocide or just incompetence. Ms. Cameron seems to come down mostly on the side of incompetence coupled with Russian ignorance about the environment and culture in Kazakhstan. An academic read but not too taxing.

Bas-Relief from the Kazakhstan Pavilion at VDNKh Park in Moscow. It’s supposed to be happy Kazakh herders but I couldn’t help but think “driving their cattle to slaughter in order to feed the Russians while the Kazakhs starve to death…”

Dark Shadows: Inside the Secret World of Kazakhstan by Joanna Lillis: Lillis is an English language journalist who lives in and covers Kazakhstan. Her book was published about five months before Nazarybayev resigned and she paints a far less favorable picture of him than does the author of Apples Are From Kazakhstan. I assume these short essays were adapted from her newspaper and magazine writings. Good for short bursts rather than in-depth examination. Want to learn about the famine but don’t want to read an entire book? Joanna Lillis has a chapter for you. 

The Great Game: Struggle for Empire in Central Asia by Peter Hopkirk: The definitive English language book on 19th century Russian and British maneuverings in Central Asia when the British were very concerned that Russians were setting up shop in the region specifically with an eye to closing in on and ultimately challenging British rule in India. It’s a pretty deep dive into the topic and I admit that I didn’t always follow all of the military maneuverings.

Tamerlane: Sword of Islam, Conqueror of the World by Justin Marozzi: Tamerlane/Timur is more Uzbekistan’s man than Kazakhstan’s but he did build Kazakhstan’s best known historic sight and he also died in what is now Kazakhstan. I get that when you spend years researching and writing such a book, you come to feel for your subject and maybe don’t want him to come off as a total douchebag. But I thought Marozzi was maybe too fair to Gurgin Timur.

The Horse, the Wheel, and Language: How Bronze-Age Riders from the Eurasian Steppes Shaped the Modern World by David Anthony: The steppe discussed here tends to be more Ukrainian and less Kazakh but modern Kazakhstan’s territory does make some appearances and if you are interested in the development of any of the title topics, there’s a lot of fascinating information. I found the language parts especially engrossing. 

At Home on the Kazakh Steppe: A Peace Corps Memoir by Janet Givens: The writer spends much of the book very disappointed in her husband/fellow volunteer, who sounds like a tee-totaling stick in the mud who won’t even pay for his portion of a meal if alcohol is served at it. Dude.

Chasing the Sea by Tom Bissell: Former Peace Corps Volunteer (of a whole six months) returns to his country of service, Uzbekistan. I first read this in 2016 after having read a devastating article about the Aral Sea by Bissell in Harper’s. I didn’t love this book, in part because he hardly spends any time at the Aral itself. I re-read it in 2019 around the time I traveled to Uzbekistan and while I still didn’t love it (Bissell has a certain sad sack quality I don’t take to), it was better the second time around when I was more interested in reading about Uzbekistan in general and not the Aral in particular. 

The Silk Roads: A New History of the World by Peter Frankopan: Maybe not quite as ground breaking as the author thinks it is (and The Guardian points out some errors), but it’s a worthy effort to look at world history centered more on silk road trading routes (Persia, Central Asia, China) and less on the Mediterranean (Egypt, Greece, Rome).

The Lonely Yurt by Smagul Yelubay: Not easy to track down or to read. This is a fictionalized story of Kazakhstan’s great hunger, mentioned above. The English translation seems to be the work of a nonprofit association and I don’t know if it’s the translation or the original that is so choppy. Some editing choices around page layout and spacing makes it even more so. If you can get through it, there’s worthwhile description of life in the auls (nomadic settlements) in the early years of Soviet rule, and some heartbreaking scenes of starvation as the famine takes hold. 

The Travels of Ibn Battutah by Ibn Battutah edited by Tim Mackintosh-Smith: The medieval Moroccan-Berber traveler visited Central Asia in the 14th century. His memoirs are crazy long and the most accessible English language version is severely edited. So do I blame the author or editor for the fact that Afghanistan and Turkestan combined get covered in about 10 pages? Not a super big fan of the titular hero as he takes slaves, pearl-clutches when he encounters unveiled women and platonic friendships among the sexes, and seems a-okay with some pretty horrifying customs (woman caught in adultery? Rape her to death!).

The Dead Wander in the Desert by Rollan Seisenbayev: Amazon is a legit terrible company but the translation arm of their business brings some pretty obscure works into the English speaking world and for that it’s hard not to be grateful. This sprawling epic sees characters go from WWII, through the Soviet-Afghan wars, through one of Kazakhstan’s most famous protests, almost up to Kazakh independence. The main characters are a Kazakh father and son straining against Soviet mismanagement of the Aral Sea. 

Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World by Jack Weatherford: Minnesota connection! A professor at Macalester is out to make a hero of Genghis Khan, or at least to balance his legacy, and damned if he doesn’t make a pretty convincing case of it. Better than Justin Marozzi did with Timur. I didn’t realize at first that the book is about the Khan’s entire legacy, not just his life, so I was surprised when Genghis died mid-way through the narrative.

Open Mic Night in Moscow: And Other Stories from My Search for Black Markets, Soviet Architecture, and Emotionally Unavailable Russian Men by Audrey Murray: You wouldn’t guess it from the title but this travelogue starts in Almaty and continues through Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and Turkmenistan for the first full half of the book.  Whether you enjoy it will depend heavily on whether you find the author amusing. I personally vacillated between being impressed with and annoyed by her. Annoyed when she veered towards ugly American stereotypes, impressed when she navigated the labyrinth of visa bureaucracy without help from locals on staff at the consulate like I did!

A Carpet Ride to Khiva by Christopher Aslan Alexander: I bought my own carpet in Bukhara, not Khiva, and I bought wool, not silk. After reading this I was ready to go back to Uzbekistan to throw down another few thousand dollars for a silk Khivan rug. The narrative can get a little bogged down in the details but it really makes you appreciate all the work that goes into your souvenir.

Sovietistan: Travels in Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Uzbekistan by Erika Fatland: enjoyable travelogue, although I did find an error or two. Lots of local color and even hard-to-explore Turkmenistan gets a section. That said, despite it’s heft, it is still trying to cover five whole countries in one book, so it sometimes goes wide but not deep. 

Murder in Samarkand (published in the US as Dirty Diplomacy) by Craig Murray: the memoirs of a British ambassador who is definitely a dick but who also stood up to his own government when they were hell bent on licking the boots of George W. Bush. Lots of minutiae of foreign service life and way too much about the ambassador’s alcohol fueled extracurricular activities involving exploitative sex with a local woman half his age.

Turkestan Solo: A Journey Through Central Asia by Ella Maillart: A Swiss lady traveler, in the early years of the Soviet Union, starts in Moscow before heading to Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan for mountain climbing, and then Uzbekistan for more familiar (to me) sightseeing. At the end when she is at the Aral Sea it’s hard not to feel sad about all that’s been lost there. 

A Peace to End All Peace: The Fall of the Ottoman Empire and The Creation of the Modern Middle East: by David Fromkin: Accidental Central Asia book! I read this account of how the winners of WWI cut up the remains of the Ottoman empire and while most of the focus is indeed on the middle east, several key decisions involve the Turkic speaking parts of the world under Russian control, aka Central Asia. Spoiler alert: judging by recent events in the middle east, the western powers did not learn anything. 

A Ride To Khiva: Travels And Adventures In Central Asia by Frederick Burnaby: A “great game” era classic as Burnaby, Victorian-era British army intelligence officer, makes his way to Khiva, often skirting official Russian rules to do so. 

Red Sands by Caroline Eden: Part cookbook, part travelogue. It came out while I was in Chinese class, lacking both free time and a well-equipped kitchen, so I have yet to try any of the recipes. But it’s a very beautiful book to look at. There’s also a suggested reading section that is super helpful. The same author co-wrote another recipe + essay book, Samarkand – Recipes and Stories from Central Asia and the Caucasus, that is a bit more of a straight up cookbook.

A Shadow Intelligence by Oliver Harris: To redeem Nancy Pearl…I did a pre-departure scroll through her Twitter feed to get ideas for fun quarantine reads that I could immediately check out of the library. This British spy thriller takes place in Kazakhstan and doesn’t come across as written by someone who has never been there. Impressive! Although, as with many spy thrillers, it’s awfully hard to keep track of who the bad guy is. 

I still have a few books about Central Asia that are on my “to-read” list:

• The Silent Steppe: the story of a Kazakh Nomad under Stalin by Mukhamet Shayakhmetov
• In the Kirghiz Steppes by John W. Wardell
• Mission to Tashkent by F.M. Bailey
• Through Khiva to Golden Samarkand by Ella Robertson Christie

But I don’t know when/if I will get to them. China has crept into my reading interests and lord knows books about China aren’t hard to track down, no matter if you want history, politics, literary fiction, or mystery and adventure novels. But I chose Kazakhstan, whereas China was chosen for me so maybe I will never be as excited about reading Chinese books as Central Asian books. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

‘S’

Many embassies and consulates experience visits from VIPs—FLOTUS, POTUS, CODELL (Congressional Delegation) and ‘S’ (Secretary of State) are some of the most common.*

Some embassies get lots of visits, for reasons ranging from 100% legit to…maybe not an urgent national security matter but definitely there’s some work to do and hey! what a coincidence that there are great food and golfing opportunities!

Paris, London, Geneva, The Hague, Baghdad, Kabul, Seoul…VIP central. But Kazakhstan? No one visits the snowy steppe for the food or the golf.

I had been in Nur-Sultan during a minor VIP visit (an undersecretary) last summer, so when we started to hear rumblings of an S visit, I wasn’t totally surprised to be asked to help. With the constant drumbeat of “it’ll be good on your EER” (annual review) in my ears I could hardly say no, but that didn’t mean I looked forward to it. I have such a sense of dread when I’m in new situations and at risk of making a fool of myself (yes, I know, I should have chosen a job where that is not a risk every time I walk outside).

Shortly after Christmas I was ready to go to Nur-Sultan. Flight, hotel, and motorpool were all booked and many colleagues had curtailed their holiday plans to participate.

And then…

The S visit was postponed.

Frankly I thought “postponed” meant “cancelled.” I wasn’t remotely mourning the missed sturm und drang but, lo and behold, just days after NPR reported some interesting ‘from the top’ words about Ukraine, S was headed there, with follow-up stops in other former SSRs, including mine.

Armed with a new airplane ticket, a blazer, and the ability to identify Ukraine on an unmarked map (just look for the Black Sea!), I headed north.

When I arrived, I got to see all the set up that happens in advance of these visits. As the first visit was cancelled, this was a re-do for the advance team, but my first time seeing their work. An entire floor of the hotel had to be secured to the necessary standards for the Secretary and his staff. Marines were posted at the entryway, just like at an embassy. The room I was staffing was set up with secure computers, printers, and phones, all connected to the Department of State network. Unsanctioned electronic devices owned by the hotel were unplugged and removed from the space (hello shower stall full of televisions!).

My role was Briefing Paper Coordinator. Which basically meant that if anyone needed a piece of paper printed, I printed it. A trained ape could have done my job, but trained apes have difficulty obtaining top secret security clearance.

Since the team was going to be on the ground for fewer than 24 hours, I wasn’t sure I’d even have anything to do.

And then…

No sooner was the team “wheels down” then they needed immediate assistance editing planned press remarks to incorporate the latest information about what was happening with Kazakhstan’s infectious neighbor. Fortunately, CDC’s Central Asia offices are based in the Almaty consulate, meaning the regional director is a coworker and I have his contact info. Unfortunately, it was just around midnight. After waking up said regional director, I spent the next 90 minutes relaying messages between him and the speechwriter, making sure all stats and language were spot on. Global health emergency, suspected case, epidemic, pandemic…these are words and phrases with precise meanings so we needed to use them precisely.

Because, thanks to the hard work of the advance team, the staff room was set up as a secure space, no cell phones were allowed over the threshold. Which meant I spent time between midnight and 2:00 am on my phone with the director, then yelling into the room at the speechwriter in order to relay relay information without violating the “no cell phone space.”

Not to brag, but in the trained ape department, not even Koko the sign-language gorilla could have done this job. So I was useful after all!

RIP Koko

After way too little sleep I was back in the staff room early the next morning, ready to press print as needed. My phone, when I could step outside the room to check it, was filled with messages from a group thread detailing what had just been completed, what still needed to be done, who was in place where…all kinds of minutiae that you wouldn’t think about until a hundred messages like “Press van ready to load” and “Service vehicle 1 en route to Ministry of Foreign Affairs” are blowing up your phone. This went on until “wheels up,” when the plane was in the air and S was on his was to Uzbekistan.

It was a weird weekend. A whirlwind of activity, punctuated by long stretches of waiting. In four days I only stepped foot outside the hotel once. (Incensed at having paid $13 for a very unsatisfying quesadilla at the only restaurant available to me, I found a grocery store where I could stock up on $1.50 samsas.)

Because several hotels in Kazakhstan offer special government rates, people visiting on the government dime sometimes get to stay in the swankest hotel they are ever likely to experience using #YourTaxPayerDollarsAtWork.

By definition a fancy Kazakh hotel = horses galore

But we are still budget conscious. I stayed in the St. Regis because I had to be available to the S staff at very late and very early hours. I enjoyed a massive breakfast buffet and “butler service” providing complimentary coffee service and shoe shines which, frankly, my boots really needed. Other coworkers? Camped out at the Best Western. No butler service.

So that was the S visit. And if you are curious about the policy side instead of the trained ape and shoeshine side, here’s some press coverage about it:

• Reuters
• Washington Post (editorial)
• Time
• Al Jazeera

* I am not going to name names or talk about the policies of people involved in this visit. If you don’t already know my thoughts, and feel like you need clarification, you’re welcome to ask outside of a public online forum.  

Back in the (former) USSR

I returned from Christmas vacation just in time to start 2020 here in the former СССР. If things go as planned, I’ll finish 2020 in the current США. I cannot believe my first tour is ending this year!

As endings always make me reflective, I’ve been thinking about the pros and cons of this life. So many pros. While I can’t claim I remember to greet each day with gratitude, I’d guess I have at least one moment each week of being simply and truly grateful.

Oftentimes it’s gratitude that I am no longer in a career that had become toxic for me.

Recently, as my boss opined on lunch options, it took me some minutes to realize he was talking about “doners” and not “donors.” I heaved a sigh of relief.

My 2015-2017 workplace guilt-tripped anyone who wanted vacation and, as a bonus, the director guilt-tripped me specifically, telling me I was paid too much (if true, maybe not the best management tactic). Fortunately, I had a far more humane employer in 2018, although I then struggled with earning a living wage in an increasingly expensive city.

From guilt-trips in 2017 to intense frugality in 2018, to wrapping up 2019 enjoying a Christmas holiday with old friends followed by a New Year’s Eve splurge with new friends. Who could have predicted?

I still have my Tarot cards, purchased almost 30 years ago. And this NYE things did get a bit six of cups as we were increasingly “in our cups.”

Starting 2020 with smart decisions: I did not finish this shot of vodka

There is only one Iceland!

My teenage self, dabbling in tarot cards, certainly never prophesied ringing in a new year at the Almaty Ritz with a sumptuous dinner of mistranslated buffet options followed by dancing the Macarena!

 

I’m obviously also grateful for the travel and cultural learning opportunities. I came here speaking no Russian, and look at me now! After months of #YourTaxPayerDollarsAtWork language lessons and ZERO studying…um…my trips to the grocery store are slightly less fraught?

Okay, so 2019 didn’t make me fluent in Russian. But it did make me a more adventurous traveler. Sure, I said I was interested in Asia for many years, but then I mostly just kept going back to Europe. I said I was interested in the former USSR but had only dipped a toe into Moldova before landing in Kazakhstan (the SUPER STAR SSR that, as a reminder, single-handedly kept the USSR in existence for 4 days in 1991).

Kazakhstan, perhaps a little too committed to all things red.

Then, boom! In one year I reconnected with beloved friends and family in Morocco and the UK and visited brand new places east of the Caucasus like Moscow and Samarkand and Chiang Mai. I now have five SSRs under my belt with another on the books for March. And my bank account still isn’t drained.

What’s my secret?

Here are two more key pros of this life: a hefty dose of holidays (American and Kazakh) and #YourTaxPayerDollarsAtWork paying my rent.

Free rent isn’t even the alpha and omega of housing pros. My apartment here is far larger than I could afford in Seattle. And maintenance? If my dishwasher (dishwasher!) breaks or I want to hang a picture, I simply call our facilities office and they show up at my door.  #PrincessTiffany doesn’t have to so much as pick up a hammer.

Hang my own pictures? I have people for that!

My work, my home, my vacations, my bank account…it’s all better now!

And yet…the “cons.”

There are straight up safety worries like taxis without seatbelts and severe air pollution.

What a gorgeous view of the particulate pollution!

There’s coping with medical/dental care not up to US standards. Do I have a cavity? One week I’m told yes, a week later, no. Yeah, I got a $30 decent quality mammogram here, but ideally I should get them at my “usual place.” See you in October Espresso Dental and Ballard Swedish!

In the worst situations, care may not be available at all. Despite the problems of the American health care system, it’s hard to imagine a better place to get treated for trauma. We’ve medevaced a few people out of Almaty after serious accidents.

Worst of all, there are so many people I miss. While I stay in touch via FaceTime and text and even Zuckerberg’s evil empire, there’s no substitute for everyday contact as simple as a drink after work. Creating a social circle isn’t easy and here I’ve deliberately removed myself from the comforting embrace of mine! I’m sad knowing I’m missing kids growing up and friends going through major life changes. I worry people will forget about me.

Separation from family and friends, medical care—those are big things. But there are also small things that build up.

The nervousness as I realize I’m the first to arrive at the agreed-upon happy hour spot and it’s now my job to request the table for…ugh! I don’t remember my Russian numbers unless I count them on my fingers! Embarrassing! Although when I’m the last to arrive and must place my order, in terrible Russian, in front of coworkers who had a year of pre-arrival language training that I lack…also embarrassing!

The mild tension when I hand a cashier a 5,000 tenge note (approximately $13) knowing they’ll likely ask for a smaller bill that I don’t have and that acquiring the correct change may involve up to three other cashiers and a manager.

My frustration with a burger so smothered in sauce that I’m expected to eat it using latex gloves (yep!) while my side of fries is accompanied by a mere dime size dollop of ketchup.

When I accidentally pay a stranger’s internet bill at the automated kiosk because my I misread the (Russian) bill and punch in my postal code instead of my account number.

When I have to go to three different stores to find the necessary ingredients for a favorite recipe, if I can find them at all. Or I think I’ve found what I need because I can read the tiniest bit of Russian but because it’s hard for me to read Russian I stop reading once I think I’ve found what I need, don’t read the smaller print, and only realize once I get home that all that powdered sugar I bought is lemon flavored.

When I need to make a simple but rare-ish purchase—a spool of thread or a bottle of rubbing alcohol—and the realization dawns that I have literally no idea where to acquire such a thing. A colleague can usually point me in the right direction, but having to ask for help buying a spool of thread makes you feel stupid. It just does.

All of these little things form a daily background buzz that I can mostly ignore. But sometimes the buzz builds into a cacophony and leaving the apartment seems unbearable.

Side note: Yet many people RISK THEIR LIVES to put themselves through this when then come to America as immigrants and refugees. 

Look, I would be devastated if I had to leave this job tomorrow. I hope Kazakhstan is only the first of many posts. But I also want to be honest that that there are drawbacks; this job isn’t for everyone and even for me the pros and cons may weigh differently at future posts and force me to reevaluate.

In summary: I’m grateful. But it’s not all travel adventure and New Year’s Eve at the Ritz. Just some of that. 😃

“Asia” Asia

Let’s be clear: I one hundred percent don’t blame people for not knowing where Kazakhstan is. What’s funny to me is when I have to low-key explain/defend that it’s “really” in Asia.

A comment on a Facebook photo might make me go, “huh, I think they think I live in Europe.” But then I also get variations on the person who asked, when hearing I was going to China in 2021, if I’d been to Asia before. “I live in Asia now!” “Yeah, but not ‘Asia’ Asia.”

Dude, earlier this month I was in Zharkent, literally 20 miles from the border with China.

How much more “Asia” Asia can I get? Does it have to be a place a majority of Americans recognize? In which case, does Thailand count?

Thailand is a place I’ve long wanted to visit. My friend Sahni, who has family from there and knows it well, invited me to join her in November. Alas, I’d traveled in July, August, and September. Christmas vacation was already on the books. Could I squeeze in anything else? Yes. About 3.5 days.

Why travel so far for such a short time? Because in foreign service life, when friends from home are on the same continent as you (to reiterate, my current continent being Asia), you have to make up for all those missed happy hours. Still, I did wonder if it would be worth it.

Verdict? TOTALLY worth it.

From Kazakhstan a 6.5 hour direct flight to Bangkok feels like no bigs. Then it was a short hop to Chiang Mai and, with a time difference of only one hour, not even much jetlag to contend with.

My visit involved much of what people expect from “Asia” Asia: motor scooters, street food, night markets with vendors hawking everything from clothing to jewelry to edible bugs, all against a backdrop of lanterns and Buddhist temples and monks and drag shows (maybe that last one is specific to Thailand).

I gorged on vitamins D and C thanks to sunshine and tropical fruits, fortifying myself before returning to a long and dark winter in beet and cabbage land.

As smelly as they say? Yes.
A delicious base for ice cream? Also yes.

All that was on my to-do list was to hang out with Sahni and Leo and to eat all the food. Consequently, I did less research about this trip than perhaps anywhere else I’ve ever gone and I can’t impress you with a newfound knowledge of Thai history or culture. But here’s a hodge-podge of impressions from a day trip to Chiang Rai and then my time in Chiang Mai:

• The temples are gorgeous and ornate. Thai Buddhism is very closely related to Hinduism (so much Ganesh!) and temples are everywhere. You pass dozens just in the old city of Chiang Mai. If you were thinking that Buddhism was free from the sexism of Christianity and Islam though, you should think again.
• Getting around was super easy and cheap with songthaew, the ubiquitous, communal red vans. But the car and scooter traffic, even inside the old walled city, is pretty intense.
• Thai massage is an experience. Expect to be in a room with others, clothed, with a lady crawling on top of you, yanking your limbs around and giving the general impression that if she had the strength, she would grab you by the arms and swing you around over her head. I loved it.
• I was pleasantly surprised at how low-key the sales pressure was at the markets, especially compared to Morocco.
• There are a million crap things to buy but also a million very cool things to buy, from silk fabric to silver (literally an entire kilometer of silver shops along one street) to teak and pottery. I wasn’t in a shopping mood but if I return some day I’ll bring a second bag.

These elephant print pants seem to captivate all tourists except me

• Chiang Mai was way cleaner than I expected. Someone is always sweeping the street, and between the tropical fruits and the blooming tropical flowers, punctuated with aromas wafting off of street food carts, it smelled amazing!
• The food is outstanding. Drinks like mango and watermelon and butterfly pea and dragon fruit smoothies; dishes like pad thai and kao soi and fish grilled in banana leaves and papaya salad. I couldn’t get enough.

My hodge-podge of photos:

Chiang Rai

Wat Rong Khun (White Temple) is bit like a Buddhist Sagrada Familia in that it is the creation of one visionary, Chalermchai Kositpipat, who will be dead before he sees his project completed (around 2070). The temple grounds include images from traditional Buddhist and modern pop culture.

 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Baan Dam (Black House) is an installation from artist Thawan Duchanee. Peaceful gardens are filled with dark buildings decorated with animal horns, phallic symbols, and crocodile skins.

My favorite color! Wat Rong Seur Ten (Blue Temple) may not have the historic or artistic significance of some of the other temples I visited, but is nonetheless a stunner.

Chiang Mai

Wat Phra Singh

Wat Chedi Luang, dating from the 1400s

Most temples are bedecked in gold but just off of the silver merchants’ street is Wat Sri Suphan, the silver temple

Men’s Only silver temple

I picked a few historic temples to visit and then just stopped by any others that looked interesting. I only know the names of a few. There are too many to keep track!

 

Food of the future

The daytime Warorot Market, also known as Kad Luang

Quail

Papaya salad, grilled fish, watermelon juice

Monks joining me in an air conditioned coffee shop

When I compared my lunch to that of a nearby solo diner, I decided I needed a second stomach.

Pad Thai adorably wrapped in an egg package

With such intense heat during the day, many of the markets don’t start up until the evening.

 

So there it is. Sure I have lived in, worked in, and touristed around Central Asia for the last year of my life. But I finally made it to “Asia’ Asia. I’m ready to go back!

Canyons and Kazakhs

After four posts and a lot of purple prose about Uzbekistan, I feel the need to wax poetic about Kazakhstan, where I actually live.

I returned from Uzbekistan just in time to join a consulate field trip to Charyn Canyon, Kazakhstan’s answer to the Grand Canyon.

Disclosure: I’ve never been to the American wonder so I can’t really compare. But Charyn looks similar to what I’ve seen in pictures—think striations of rock in autumnal colors—although much smaller. Smaller as in Thelma and Louise could have made that jump.

The full canyon is about 50 miles long, but on a day trip from Almaty, most stick to the stretch known as the Valley of Castles. Here, a two kilometer hike takes you from a parking area down to the Sharon river, passing by sandstone rock formations that look very much like the ruined mudbrick kasbahs I know from Morocco. In addition to the castle formations, there were a couple of rocks that looked like they were maybe one millimeter away from breaking free and allowing us all to play Indiana Jones.

The drive there is several hours, out into the steppe. While it’s not the flat as a pancake steppe of northern Kazakhstan, it flattens out enough that finding such a dramatic landscape in the middle of it is surprising.

Touted as one of Kazakhstan’s greatest natural wonders, this is a popular destination for locals and tourists alike so you shouldn’t expect perfect tranquility. But it was very clean, which is good because my Russian tutor told me the last time she went (two years ago) it was full of litter. Maybe they’ve invested some more resources in upkeep. And maybe next they could invest in better translation services? What if this signage, in Kazakh, Russian, and “English” is a future civilization’s Rosetta Stone?

 

For those who want to linger, the trail ends near a restaurant and several lodging options, including cabins and yurts.

My lagging energy level told me the hike back was harder than I expected and my health app said I climbed over 70 floors! For those who don’t care about getting their steps in, golf cart style transport was running between the river and the staircase up to the parking area.

My next Kazakhstan excursion was over last week’s long weekend when a colleague from Astana/Nur-Sultan invited me to join her on a trip to Shymkent, Kazakhstan’s third largest city (after Almaty and Astana) and the most “Kazakh,” as opposed to “Russian,” of the three. How appropriate for the holiday I prefer to call Indigenous People’s Day.

Early Morning Flight

Airport park where I waited for my colleague as the “arrival hall” is basically just a shed with a luggage carousel

Airport Dining Room actually located in park right outside the airport

I can usually recognize the difference between written Kazakh and Russian and I quickly saw that Kazakh is given pride of place in signage in Shymkent. My colleague, who had extensive Russian-language training, noticed it in the predominance of the spoken language. If she spoke in Russian they would often answer with their own Russian that lapsed into a kind of Russian-Kazakh patois.

Shymkent isn’t exactly full of sights. It’s an old city, a big enough stop on the old silk road for Genghis Khan to bother razing it to the ground, but the visible history doesn’t stretch much earlier than initial Russian dominance. We met up with a Fulbright English Teaching Assistant who lives and works there and he had nothing but praise for the friendliness of locals. That was our experience too. I can see that if you live there, you could keep busy—lovely parks and good restaurants and a serviceable locally brewed pilsner. Close to the border with Uzbekistan, it has a sizable Uzbek population and you’ll find tashkentsky (Tashkent Style) plov on many menus. My colleague, living in mostly treeless Nur-Sultan, especially enjoyed the parks and tree-lined boulevards.

Is it just me or does the WWII memorial look like two nutmeg graters?

Most tourists, if they stop, stop briefly en route between Almaty and Turkistan. That’s probably the way to go. We flew in early in the morning on day one and flew out the evening of the next day and were kind of scraping the bottom of the barrel of things to do by the last few hours. The one museum I wanted to stop in (Museum of Victims of Political Repression) was closed on the weekends. But among markets, restaurants, and parks we kept ourselves mostly busy.

Here we get to the problem and the joy of foreign service. If I was advising a regular tourist I’d say get a car or a car+driver and go Almaty to Shymkent and then onto Turkistan over maybe a course of four or five days. Stop at Taraz, one of Kazakhstan’s oldest cities, Sayram, birthplace of the holy man buried in Turkistan, and at the ruins of Sauran, former Mongol capital city near Turkistan.

Problematically, I am not on vacation all the time. My travel is within the confines of weekends. So I took one weekend to go to to Turkistan and another to go to Shymkent but have missed those surrounding areas. Yet if I was not in the Foreign Service I likely wouldn’t get to Turkistan and Shymkent at all. So it’s glass half full or half empty depending on how you want to see it I guess.

I’m just days shy of my one year mark here in Kazakhstan and, if the current plan holds, have eleven months left. Time is ticking! If this winter is anything like last, hibernation season is about to set in and I won’t be doing much in the way of regional exploration until spring. Nice to see a few more bits of Kazakhstan before I stop wanting to leave the house at all.

I Want It All!

It was last winter when my boss first asked if I’d be interested in traveling to Bangkok to be trained as our post’s Equal Employment Opportunity counselor. A topic that interests me and a chance for #yourtaxpayerdollarsatwork to send me to Thailand? I enthusiastically filled in the paperwork.

And then…”due to the government shut down all trainings are postponed until further notice.” Which was a total bummer. But also meant that I was free to go to Astana/Nur-Sultan to work and see more of Kazakhstan.

When they finally reinstated trainings in August, albeit in D.C. instead of Bangkok, I was already scheduled for another Nur-Sultan work trip, so I opted for the September training instead. No sooner had I registered for that then…BOOM! I was offered a totally different training opportunity the exact same week as the EEO training. Training #2 would happen in Bahrain. And I had to say no.

UGH. Sorry to be a common Veruca Salt but…

OK, perspective. No Bahrain or Bangkok is sad. But in just one year I do get D.C., Nur-Sultan (twice), and even Dushanbe.

Instead of focusing on what I can’t do, how about I prioritize what I can do? For me, priorities start with Samarkand.

“Samarkand” sparked my interest in Central Asia when I read an offhand reference to it in a novel, paused, and thought “I don’t actually know where that is.” A few minutes on Google later and I both knew where it was (Uzbekistan) and was ready to go!

But I didn’t go. Those were ancient days of 2012 when all of the ‘Stans had different and intimidating visa requirements and travel logistics seemed daunting for someone like me who’d mostly done European travel. Even the alphabet intimidated me.

Fast forward to 2019 and I’ve had 27 months in Morocco that left me mostly unconcerned about travelling while illiterate. Plus, I’ve learned the cyrillic alphabet (sorta), both of the K’stans now allow visa free travel, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan introduced glitchy but workable e-visas, and Turkmenistan…well, we can’t have everything.

 

 

Don’t let me fool you into think I’ve got it all figured out though. Parts of travel in this region continue to bedevil me. So when a colleague spoke enthusiastically about a travel agency she used, I was quick to get a referral. Someone else managing my point A to point B? Please. A tour guide to provide historical and cultural context? Actually yes. Sure, my favorite tour guide is myself, dramatically reading aloud from a Rick Steves book, but this isn’t Europe! Reading material about Central Asia is scarcer than anywhere else I’ve travelled.

I asked for an itinerary that would take me to:

• Tashkent: the capital of Uzbekistan, and non-negotiable starting point when arriving by air.
• Samarkand/Samarqand: Onetime capital of Tamerlane’s empire.
• Bukhara: Central Asia’s holiest city and home of the infamous bug pit.
• Khiva: Dark history as the home of Central Asia’s largest slave market.

I did have to push back a bit on the original itinerary they prepared which, in an overabundance of concern for my well being or a throwback to days when the Soviets assigned all western visitors a minder, assigned me a tour guide for every waking moment.

We finally settled on an acceptable mix of alone time and tour guide time, all for a friendly price.

Admittedly, it’s all extra easy because #yourtaxpayerdollarsatwork already hauled me as far as Kazakhstan, leaving me free to arrive in Uzbekistan without the jetlag and credit card debt I’d get with a flight from the U.S. Still, I hope someone from the USA reads this and thinks, “I too could travel to Samarkand!”

I finish my two weeks in Nur-Sultan in a couple days, after which I’ll fly to Tashkent via Almaty. From there it’s planes, trains, and automobiles across Uzbekistan.

I’m a little (a lot?) nervous about putting myself in someone else’s travel planning hands, but excited about finally seeing these cities. Wish me luck, watch this space for updates, and look me up if you’re in D.C. in September. I will not be in Bangkok or Bahrain.

Do I Know What I Did This Summer?

While the first rule of Foreign Service Facebook Club seems to be don’t talk about FS Facebook Club, (a recent leak to the Washington Post recently caused a mini-scandal) I think it’s ok if I share that there is such a group where FS people trade advice and insights and that a recurring theme is the struggle with friends and family back home who are totally disinterested in, or even hostile to, this life.

Crikey! I am very lucky that, at least for now, many people in my “real” life show genuine interest in what I am doing. With such a supportive and interested audience I should blog more–or do more things worth blogging about. But it’s been a lazy summer.

Which is such a difference from last summer. I get daily reminders of “one year ago” as I’m inundated with emails like, “Time to retake your annual online cyber security training!” or “Time to pay the annual premium on that insurance we scared you into buying during last year’s orientation!”

Indeed, it’s now been over a year since my life was packed up and moved into a government warehouse. I made it through the whole moving across the country, blazer-wearing, choose your favorite “so you’ve died overseas and don’t want body retrieval to be a burden to your family” insurance options, here’s your temporary home right off of “Jefferson Davis Highway” experience. Then, did you hear? I also moved to Kazakhstan! Say what you’d like about that process but at least it kept me busy.

This summer has been one long nap in comparison. But I’ve had a few active days.

Lake Issyk

Kazakhstan is full of natural beauty to enjoy. The consulate organized a day trip to nearby Lake Issyk (not to be confused with the similarly named Lake Issyk-Kul in Kyrgyzstan). This lake was created by a natural dam many eons ago but a landslide in the ’60s destroyed the dam and caused massive flooding, and in turn I think many deaths. The current incarnation was remade with human assistance and is a popular weekend getaway spot.

En route to the lake is the Esik Kurgan museum, near where archeologists in 1969 unearthed the body of The Golden Man, a circa 2nd century BCE Scythian warrior recovered from a burial mound (“kurgan”) and decked out in a full suit of golden armor. “The Golden Man” has become a major symbol of Kazakhstan, depicted on statues and currency. If you’re in the lesser Washington, you can see a Golden Man statue outside the Kazakh embassy.

Burial mounds still litter the area but alas, the contents within have long since been plundered. 

Lake Issyk

Golden Man Armour

Real mountains in the back, burial mound in the front

Lake Issyk

Lake Issyk

 

London

Over the 4th of July I embraced the yoke of British oppression with my phenomenal relatives in London. I am very very lucky, not just to have people who welcome me into their home time and time again, but also that I’ve had the resources and opportunities to take advantage of their hospitality. I’ve visited enough times now that instead of feeling like I MUST SEE ALL THE IMPORTANT SIGHTS, I can chill out a bit and see a select few things. Although anyone who knows Chris knows we still kept plenty busy.

I asked if I could get a family portrait to put on the family and friends picture wall I am building. Of 11 snaps I took, I had ZERO where everyone was looking at the camera with their eyes open (Andrew was the most consistent about looking at the camera. His parents? Well…) So I decided to choose this one for my wall. While no one is looking at the camera, I think it captures the fun and friendly banter they enjoy with each other so it makes me happy to look at!

I mentioned I’d recently read Orlando by Virginia Woolf, so might be interested in seeing Knole House, the ancestral home of Vita Sackville-West, as that person and place partially inspired the novel. Of course Chris did one better and arranged we go to Knole and nearby Sissinghurst Castle Garden, where Vita made her home after “having lady parts” legally prevented her from inheriting Knole.

Knole House: ancestral home of Vita Sackville West

Knole House staircase

Carved Screen in the Great Hall

Sissinghurst Castle Garden, home of Vita Sackville-West

Back in the city, which was beautifully decked out for London Pride, we went to two different plays (one serious and feminist, one hilarious and feminist) and stopped at some monumental tourist sights like the bookshop from “Notting Hill”, Portobello Road Market, and The Kensington Wine Rooms. 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

 

Bruce and I visited a lovely Van Gogh exhibit at the Tate Britain, and then Chris gave me tips about how I could get into the sold-out Dior exhibit at the V&A.

The line for “day of” Dior hopefuls

If you get a squidgy “this feels like cultural appropriation” feeling, it’s a safe bet this was from John Galliano’s years with Dior.

 

Too few days, but nonetheless a mini-break filled with excellent company and enjoying the atmosphere of one of the world’s greatest cities. I returned to Almaty with four new books plus several more book recommendations courtesy of my cousin Bruce, which perhaps contributed to subsequent weekend decisions to stay holed up in my apartment for at least one whole day. Those books won’t read themselves!

In 2012 I read a book from this shop that made passing reference to Samarkand. Where’s Samarkand? I thought. That was the beginning of a journey that landed me in Central Asia!

 

Goodbyes and Hellos

While the things that made up my life were packed up and moved last summer, the people (and places and beer selections) were not only not moved but they continue on without me there, showing up in Facebook posts featuring people I love enjoying the lakes and parks of the upper midwest and the outdoor decks at Pacific Northwest brew pubs. I’d be lying if I said homesickness didn’t creep in.

But at least I can take comfort in some of the great new people I’ve met since then, right?

Sigh…

People come and go from the FS all the time. And while it happens throughout the year, “school’s out for summer” tends to be the busiest transfer season to accommodate families with children. Thus, the tidal wave of goodbye parties. Depressing.

But let’s turn that frown upside down. In addition to goodbye events, there have been several welcome events, excursions to restaurants like the all you can eat Brazilian meat festival, and meetings of The Almaty Manhattan Club, organized by a colleague for the purpose of teaching Almaty bartenders what a Manhattan even is. It’s daunting work but you know I am civic-minded.

Before the Almaty Manhattan Club

After the Almaty Manhattan Club

Next I head back to Nur-Sultan for TDY (temporary duty) after which I plan to go to Uzbekistan for a bit of vacation. Then my first summer will be over and I’ll be staring down my one year anniversary in Kazakhstan!

Train to Turkistan

Google “Silk Road Tours” and you’ll notice Uzbekistan really has all the good stuff. But Kazakhstan does have one breathtaking monument from those silk road days–the unfinished mausoleum of Khoja Ahmed Yasawi in Turkistan.

Naturally, it’s been on my top list of places to go/things to see ever since I got posted here. The question I’ve been grappling with was how to get there given that I don’t have a car, don’t have a lot of vacation time, and that it’s a 13-18 hour train ride away.

Well I finally got there and I’m going to tell you so much about it and post so many pictures that you will be all Turksitan-ed out.

In Foreign Service most people have their own cars. I know a few people who take the city bus but traveling in shared taxis or minibuses to far flung locales? This isn’t Peace Corps.

Trains are a different story. Even the ambassador occasionally takes trains. In fact, it was while working on travel plans for him that involved an overnight train that my idea of how to visit Turkistan was born. The town itself, I had read, could be seen in a day. And there is an overnight train from Almaty to Turkistan. So what if I took the overnight train on a Friday, spent the day on Saturday, and then took another overnight train back to Almaty? True, I wouldn’t smell very good at the end of this adventure, but otherwise, a perfect plan.

The Adventure Begins

Train travel is so popular that tickets can sell out weeks in advance, which is a bummer for someone like me used to hopping on a Moroccan train with little notice. Maybe without a seat, but still…

So I had to plan ahead and have the consulate travel office book me a ticket (on-site travel agents! I am so spoiled!). Then I asked my locally based colleagues what to expect. “Roaches” was the unexpected answer. WHAT?!

Yep. Long journeys mean hungry people who either bring food along or buy it on board. And where there is food, roaches will follow. Awesome.

Slow Soviet-era train (L) and “Less Slow” Talgo train (R)

Fun fact: there are no “high speed” trains in Kazakhstan–just slow trains and “slightly faster” ones. I spent time on one of each.

On the way there, my travel time was about 13 hours on the newer train (brand name “Talgo”). These trains have a cafe car (I didn’t try it though) and bathrooms that aren’t great but do have toilet paper. You choose between first class compartments with two beds per compartment and middle class compartments with four beds. I was in middle class both ways. There is also a small sink in each compartment. Sheets, pillow, and a hand towel are provided to everyone.

The soviet train took 17.5 hours to make the very same journey in reverse; while I still got sheets and a pillow and hand towel, sinks are only in the bathrooms, which tell a fascinating story of soviet-era industrial design. Everything is made of metal and toilet paper is for capitalists! I read that in soviet trains there’s an even cheaper class ticket called platzkart, where you don’t have compartments, just beds out in the open. The full scoop on trains is well-described on this website so I won’t go on and on but I will say that I’d consider platzkart in the future because if you’re going to be confined with a bunch of people you don’t know, is being in a small compartment of four any better than being in a more open space of 20? As long as you still have a bed?

I don’t think there was a cafe car on the soviet train. However, there is a car attendant who sells a few drinks and snacks. In the morning a woman walked through selling breakfast piroshky and at many stations there are vendors selling food on the platforms.

Everyone’s lifeline is the hot water tank, used for tea, coffee, or instant noodles. I wisely remembered to bring along my own cup so I could buy some instant (pre-sugared. BLECH!) coffee to get through my morning.

Hot water avalable with all the safety standards of Khrushchev’s USSR.

People were very friendly and kind to me, despite the fact that my Russian is still limited to hello (not technically true–“Hello” is really hard to pronounce so I just say “good day), thank you, 1-2-3, yes, no, and my name is…

Key to surviving my two-way overnight train journey was ambien. Key to recovering was ibuprofen. Who knew my body isn’t 23 anymore and can’t easily bounce back from two consecutive nights sleeping on a non-luxury train? My friends Mike and Lia and I have long harbored dreams of completing the Trans-Siberian railway journey but I may need to look into an epidural for that.

The good news is: no roach sightings!

Sunset and Sunrise from the train window

 

ANYHOO, what was it I put myself through all of this to see? The mausoleum of Ahmad Yasawi, the sufi poet who was born and died in what is now Kazakhstan. When he died in 1166 there was a small mausoleum built in his honor. Then Timur (aka Timur the Lame or Tamerlane) came to power as the self-described “sword of Islam,” splitting his time between cementing people into walls and patronizing religion and the arts, and decided to build a much grander structure to honor the man revered as a kind of Muslim saint.

Unfortunately (fortunately for those still uncemented into walls), Timur died in 1405, before building was complete. What we have today is only half-finished, with bits of 15^th century scaffolding still sticking out of the un-tiled side. While it’s a shame we don’t have the whole thing decked out in stunning tilework there’s also something beautiful about its unfinished existence. Approaching it in the very early morning light is highly recommended.

As cool as the unfinished side is, obviously you’re really here for the finished half. It does not disappoint.

There’s a small fee to see the inside of the mausoleum and a couple of nearby structures (an underground mosque, the old hammam), but the outside is really where it’s at and that is always free and open. Since I arrived at 6:15 am, I had the place all to my lonesome for a couple of hours.

Inside the Mausoleum is a Bronze Water Vessel Commissioned by Timur

I was curious about what crowds would eventually gather. After all, this is a holy pilgrimage site for Muslims, a weekend, and the day before the start of Ramadan.

Crowds did come, although nothing too overwhelming. The earliest arrivals clearly came to pray. But soon came tour buses full of adults and school children, and along with them ladies selling cotton candy and men selling camel rides. Visitors seemed to be mostly non-Western tourists from Kazakhstan and parts unknown. I was the only obvious westerner.

A man giving camel rides asked me in English if I wanted a ride. Why is it so obvious? Is it the fleece jacket? Probably I just “look” like I’d speak English somehow.

A high school age girl overheard him and asked, “Are you English?” “American,” I replied. Then came the request for a selfie with me. Third weekend in a row! The same thing happened at tree-planting and Tamgaly.

 

I thought this was a platform for taking picture

Nope! It’s for launching camel rides

I exhausted myself walking around the site and to a nearby mosque that, while not ancient, was quite pretty with a full glass wall I’ve never seen in mosque architecture before. They also had an attached cafeteria. Alas it was still a bit early for lunch.

I walked through the town and pretty much saw all I wanted before eventually heading back to the train station for my return journey.

Many of the train stations in Kazakhstan are from the Tsarist era

Perhaps unsurprisingly given the holiness of the site, the town seemed far more “Muslim” (as I am used to it) than Almaty, Astana, or Karaganda. Of course it’s a smaller town than any of those. Kazakh, rather than Russian, was the dominant language. I saw way more headscarves and far fewer bars which was kind of a bummer since I needed to kill time. It’s so interesting what “counts” when it comes to headscarves and “modest” dress. While lots of women in Turkistan wore headscarves, they were haphazardly tied, showing both hair and neck. Dresses were modest by US standards but ended mid-calf, showing leg. What would be SCANDALOUS in one Muslim culture is perfectly acceptable in this one.

When the train finally pulled into Almaty early Sunday afternoon I felt tired and achy, but accomplished. Where to next?

 

Mosaic of Turkistan, on an Almaty karaoke bar

Out of Hibernation

SPRING!

I have never though of myself as someone particularly impacted by seasonal changes, except that like all good Seattleites I run to the nearest bar with outdoor seating on the first sunny day of the year. But spring is well and truly here and something feels different.

Maybe it was hearing about others’ travels around the region at the South & Central Asia FAST (first and second tour) conference that was held in Almaty this month. Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s just the jump start of traveling again–first to Morocco and then to Astana. But as much as all I wanted to do was hibernate from November through January, I am now ready to get serious about exploring.

Catching up with former classmates at the SCA FAST Conference

Fortunately, the spring weather means that CLO is organizing trips outside the city. The Community Liaison Office is generally responsible for keeping Americans from going stir crazy at post. They organize activities that we can opt to join and also serve as a resource if we want to do solo activities. During the winter they tend to focus a bit more on indoor events like trivia or bowling. I arrived at post a week too late to join their brewery tour (dammit!) but recently joined the visit to a local cheese-maker.

There are two local and popular cheeses in Kazakhstan. First there is kurt. It tastes like…hmmm…Imagine if you mixed 2/3 part powdered milk, 1/3 part salt, moistened it enough to roll into little balls, and then left it to dry.

 

I did hear a sweet story about kurt though, at the KarLag museum, about how prisoners being shipped in by the boxcar-load thought locals were throwing rocks at them until they realized it was kurt and that the locals were actually trying to feed them.

Slightly better is chechil, a smoked and braided string cheese. It’s harder than American string cheese and slightly less salty than kurt so that’s something?

These cheeses go a long way to explain why I was so excited to don protective gear and visit the small factory and storefront where they make and sell feta, mozzarella, and Gorgonzola, among others.

Now, am I going to tell the cheese mongers doing their thing at Marché Bastille that they should hang up their aprons because some guy in Almaty can offer way more variety and just as much quality? I am not. But you know, even if this isn’t the best cheese I’ve ever had, I think it IS the best cheese I’ve had in Almaty.

CLO also organized a group of local and American consulate staff to go to a tree-planting event outside the city. Apple trees (natch) needed planting at Pioneer Resort in Ile-Alatau National Park. The park is vast and the resort specializes in helping kids with disabilities of many kinds (translation was sketchy but autism and cerebral palsy were mentioned) learn how to ski. I was excited to help with a good cause and to see some of this park. Sadly, we seem to be alternating glorious sunny days with very rainy and foggy days and this was such a foggy day that I could barely see my fellow tree planters a few feet in front of me, much less sweeping mountain views. But we were treated to a generous lunch of plov and homemade beer so still worth it.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The weather cleared up just in time for the trip to Tamgaly, a UNESCO World Heritage site of bronze age petroglyphs, discovered by a lady archaeologist (!) in the 1950s. Excepting my vacation in Morocco, this is truly the most I’ve been out of a city since getting here six months ago. It was about a two and a half hour drive from Almaty. In the tree-less steppe the wind whips around but otherwise the weather was perfect–a little bit cloudy, which is better to view the petroglyphs, and chilly enough for a jacket, which is what you want with no source of shade.

A bonus of going in the spring was that many wildflowers were in bloom. I saw forget-me-nots and some other pretty little flowers. Anyone know what these are? They look kind of like bigger forget-me-nots. The steppe was absolutely carpeted with them in several spots.

The petroglyphs were the kind of thing you feel privileged to see when you consider how long they have lasted.

Our guide, who is also a scholar of Kazakhstan history, pointed out the various animals and sun-gods that are clearly carved into the slate rocks but might be difficult to identify as animals and sun-gods without a little help.

How can they have made it into this millennium in any kind of recognizable shape? The wild seasonal temperature fluctuations and a vibration inducing soviet railway that once ran nearby have done a lot to split the rocks into pieces. Although UNESCO funding has helped with preservation.

Hiking through the site is mostly easy, with some bits that are mildly challenging. Our guide told us that this is only one of many such sites in Kazakhstan but it is the place with highest concentration in one area.

Walking paths through the site

Our group

CLO trips are one of the few things that are not #yourtaxdollarsatwork. We have to pay for them, but we don’t have to do any of the organizing so it makes it super easy. I told them I basically want to sign up for all of the upcoming trips. At least until November when I will probably go into hibernation again.

Last Days of Astana (First Days of Nur-Sultan)

My three weeks in Astana and three weeks in Nur-Sultan are over.

Midway through my six week TDY (temporary duty) assignment in the capital, the president resigned. This is a big deal. In addition to being the last state of the USSR to formally leave the USSR, Kazakhstan was also the last of the former soviet states run by its soviet leader. Many Kazakhstanis have no memory of any other president.

The cult of personality around President Nursultan Nazarbayev maybe doesn’t quite compare to Castro or Atatürk, but you don’t have to go far to find buildings and streets named Nazarbayev, or a photo, statue, or painting of the father of the nation.

He announced his decision to step down right before the Nauryz holiday, comparable to making a big announcement on Christmas Eve, when people are too preoccupied with festivities to go out and protest (there were still protests). 

In the long term we have no idea what the impacts will be. It is unclear how much power the President is really giving up: he still retains key posts in the government, including head of the dominant political party and chairman of the security council. 

In the near term it meant that I was in Astana in its final days. Because the new president’s first act was to propose renaming Astana “Nur-Sultan,” (everyone is confused by the hyphen) in honor of the outgoing president.

Imagine how long it would take for a proposal like that to work itself through the channels of American democracy. Not in Kazakhstan! The name change was official that weekend.

The weather was slower to change but that did happen too. When I arrived, Astana was bitterly cold and windy. Walking from the street-side sidewalk to my apartment building’s front door meant navigating a literal ice field across the courtyard. But by the days of Nur-Sultan, most of the ice had melted and, with the help of human and machine snow removers, I could walk without fear.

Removing the last of the ice rink

Here are a few miscellaneous memories I’m bringing back from the capital city.

The Opera

The opera house is, like most everything in Astana, a recent creation. In a smaller hall I saw a fun concert in honor of the Welsh National Day and in the main hall, the production of Turandot (live horse on stage!).

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

 

Discovering Tselinograd

Before there was Astana or Nur-Sultan there was Tselinograd. The Kazakhstan capital is so overwhelmingly new and shiny that you might not even realize there is an “old town,” mostly built by the soviets. But I found it and kinda loved it.

Train Station

Aliya Moldagulova, Kazakh-Soviet WWII sniper

Vendor stalls (spoiler alert–they all sell pickles)

Soviet era grain storage

 

Remembering My Place

Some days I get grumpy about Kazakhstan. Like when my (American) expectations about what constitutes good customer service have not been met at the grocery store. 

But soon after that happened, I entered a tiny museum in the less touristed part of town (see Tselinograd, above), dedicated to one of Kazakhstan’s greatest literary figures.

A man and his maybe 8-year old son were in the entryway as I was navigating paying for admission with my non-existent Russian. The man asked where I was from. “America,” I said*. He nudged his son and murmured “America.” The boy’s eyes got really wide and his mouth even dropped open a little bit before breaking into a giant smile. The man, his son, and the woman selling tickets all managed to tell me, in very limited English, how impressed they were that an American had shown up on their doorstep. I am keenly aware that not everyone in this world is as happy as all that to see an American on their doorstep. And I felt ashamed of my earlier bad attitude. I am a guest in this country!  I am lucky to be welcomed and should strive to act as polite as when I am a guest in someone’s home. And if I encounter frustrating post-soviet supermarket produce protocol, I need to not grumble at the checkout clerk but remember that I want to live up to all the expectations about America that were in that boy’s excited grin. 

The Saken Seifullin Museum

Seifullin’s work promoted the idea of greater Kazakh autonomy

Seifullin was executed in 1939

 

More Architecture

Shopping mall that looks like a circus tent

Inside the yurt mall

Circus that looks like a space ship

KazMunayGas headquarters

Wedding photos with “Transport Tower” (aka “the lighter”) as backdrop

Ishim Riverside Promenade

Grand Alatau Apartment Buildings and Kenesary Khan monument

Kazakh Eli Monument

National Museum

National Museum

Supposedly inspired by a Moscow high rise, not by the movie Ghostbusters

 

And Finally…The Pineapple Lamp

Government contracts are funny. In theory, they are a good thing. U.S. Foreign Service should purchase all their furniture from American companies. But sometimes companies that get fat government contracts don’t…try their hardest?

Over and over again I heard about one specifically hideous piece, reviled by all Foreign Service personnel everywhere. But only in my Astana apartment did I finally encounter, in person, the infamous pineapple lamp:

The least beloved piece in the entire Foreign Service furniture collection

 

*I prefer to say “United States” and not claim two entire continents as my own, but I’ve learned that few understand me when I say that. So “America” it is. Sorry Canada, Mexico, Peru, Brazil, et al!