A Kazakh Welcome

My Home Away From Home

                                                      

The Apartment Block

I have a place to live! It is a small, one bedroom apartment that I share with a roommate, a Kyrgyz girl named Aisulu. We get along well. The apartment is in a 1950s Soviet-era block in the center of Almaty; it takes me all of ten minutes to make it to work. There is a single room where both Aisulu and I sleep, a kitchen with a washing machine, a toilet and a bathroom. The shower only has hot water after about 4 p.m. and that is not guaranteed. We also have a balcony where we’ve jury rigged a clothes line from broken twine. It works, except we can’t close the windows on the balcony. This whole establishment cost $600 plus utilities, cheap for Almaty, between the two of us, its $300 and change each.

The Pull-Out Couch

The Kitchen and Washing Machine

The View from My Apartment Window

The Playground Behind My Apartment. 

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The Symbol of the 2012 Asian Winter Games.

Almaty 


Almaty, I have discovered, is very similar to Ufa and Kazan’. I think I am going to enjoy living here. The center of the city is quite compact. To the south are beautiful mountains, some a still covered in snow. The city’s architecture reflects both pre and post-revolutionary tastes. I haven’t had the opportunity to explore many of the sites yet, my days have been ruled by my persistent jet-lag which has put me to bed about 7 p.m. every night. Today was the first day that I actually explored the city.

Oil and Fried Chicken Make the World Go Round

The Stadium

 

Almaty's Newly Completed Metro

Sherlock (and Moriarty) have Made it to Almaty @ Ashley, Laura and Lydia

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EFCA 

The whole reason I am here in Kazakhstan, is that I am doing an internship with Eurasia Foundation of Central Asia (EFCA).  It is unlike anything I have ever done. My work experience is limited to Barnes and Noble, Chick-fil-a and work-study at the Harriman. While all of those have been great, I need to step out into the professional world of my field. Hence, the internship. EFCA focuses primarily on building civil society in Central Asia and it has offices in Almaty, Bishkek, Osh and Dushanbe. I plan to take all the opportunities I can to learn about a subject that is not something I have studied before. I like the people who I am working with; they’re very dedicated to their job and the mission that EFCA is promoting. I have much to learn and they have much to teach me.
***
Scavenger Hunt at American Corner

Morning in Almaty. Facing South, Towards the Mountains.

Saturday has finally rolled back around and what a long and jet-lagged induced exhausting week it has been. Yesterday, I was invited by Jenna, a Fulbright scholar, to a scavenger hunt based at American Corner in Almaty. I asked Aisulu to come with me and we decided to walk to the corner. It was clear this morning and nice, if not cool. We stopped by the “Beeline” center to find out why my modem, which had worked faithfully for three trips to Russia was not working here. Apparently, a Russian modem doesn’t work in Kazakhstan, even though it is the SIM card that should be the deciding factor in that. 4500 Tenge spent and a new modem, which is happily   powering my first internet experience in a week.
After Beeline, we made it to American Corner, which is housed in a Kazakh library. Once we arrived Jenna set out the rules for the scavenger hunt; I was the only American actually participating in the hunt. Aisulu and I worked with Gulnara and Medina to complete the tasks. First, we focused on tasks that took place in doors: Sing the Star Spangled Banner, pronounce π, speak Russian with an American Accent, create a commercial for an American product. Once we completed those, which gave us quite a lead over the other groups, we went around and worked on the photograph scavenger hunt. The idea was to photograph a team member with one of the items on the list: photo with a Beatle, photo with an outfit inspired by Lady Gaga, photo with 6 Americans, photo of four American brand cars, photo with Col. Sanders and our favorite, a photo with a horse head. Apparently, one can usually find a real horse head at the Bazaar. So, we went in search of one. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there was none to be had. Gulnara was insistent in finding an actual horse head so we searched high and low and one of the butchers even lead us down into the bowels of the bazaar, to a laboratory. A tech at the laboratory was enlisted to help us search but came up empty handed with the explanation that there was a shortage of horsemeat in Kazakhstan. We settled for a picture with a hobby horse. Our group, which we named Victory, won the competition and we received our choice of prizes. I chose a self-contained audio book, which will provide a more intellectual pursuit than Game of Thrones, which I have read like a man starved since I arrived.

Task: Take a Picture of a Teammate with Americans. I Count Three Americans in this Picture + Aisulu.

 

Task: Take a Picture with Your Favorite Samsa Place.
Found!

Task: Find a Horse Head at the Bazaar.
Gulnara and the Horse Head

Helpful Hints: How to Register in Kazakhstan

For anyone who has spent time in a former Soviet country, you know that registering with the local authorities is one of the most time consuming processes in the entire trip. When I arrived last Saturday, Anel gave me a rather dire warning, the intern before me had not been registered properly and was forced to pay a hefty fine at the airport for incorrect registration. In Kazakhstan, you have five days to register with the immigration police, that count includes the weekends when government offices are not open. Monday I arrived at work and promptly asked Mariana, who has been my contact for everything from visa to housing, what I needed to do. Yulia, our secretary, was unfamiliar with the recently adopted system, so Mariana looked up some information on the website. After lunch, she came to me and told me I had to go get an HIV/AIDS test, ugh. This is actually a normal occurrence, I’ve gotten one every time I went to Russia as a student, but I have always gotten them in the US.  Jessica called the driver for  me and had him take me to the clinic and I suffered through getting blood drawn. The nurse was actually very kind, I guess I had visions of being viciously stabbed by a large Soviet-era nurse with arms like a clubs, like the ones you see in films, but instead she walked me through the entire process and talked to me the whole time and I barely even felt the prick. I had requested that I receive the results express, so thirty minutes and about 1000 Tenge extra later; I was on my way home with my results. Step one, complete. 

The next day, I left the apartment a little early and headed down to the immigration police station. I turned down a street too soon had to ask the guards where the station was. Apparently, I was at the right building, just the wrong side and it did not open until 9 a.m. Right after answering my questions the guards, in quick succession, asked me to present my passport and where my husband was. I guess my passport checked out, along with my response that I wasn’t married and I went on my way. I went to work and began working on the odds and ends. Then Yulia appeared at the office door and told me that I had to call my landlord and have him come down to the immigration police with me and present his original passport and “home-book,” which was supposed to list me as a tenant. Small problem, the apartment that I am now living in, I'm renting directly from Aisulu, the landlord doesn’t know that I am here yet. Oh dear. I called Aisulu and asked her if she could talk to the landlord, which she promised to do after work. When she did call him, his phone wasn’t working. We think he went to Kyrgyzstan. That precludes his appearance at the station. I called Pavel, the head of communications and marketing at EFCA and the unfortunate soul that had gotten dragged into this mess, he promised that he would work everything out. Apparently, working it out meant registering me under his mother’s apartment. 

Wednesday, rolled around and it was the last day I could legally not be registered with the police. Pavel told me his plan in the morning and said that we would await the driver to take us to the station. We waited and we waited and finally, just before lunch, Pavel said that we would go after lunch in a taxi. True to his world, after 2 p.m., we, Pavel, Yulia and I, piled in to the taxi and drove to pick up Pavel’s mother. The drive was horrendous; Kazakh drivers apparently take lessons from Russian ones. We eventually arrived at the immigration police and went inside. All the windows were shut. Yulia asked the guard at the “information desk,” who told us, documents are not processed after 2 p.m. This was contrary to the information Yulia had received when she called earlier in the day. We waited while Yulia tried to call a contact in the station. A few minutes later, a man came out carrying a box of passports and documents; apparently, they did open at three. We formed a line and waited for just a few more minutes before the little window opened and we stepped up. The guard at the window took my passport and looked at it and then looked at us. “Why are you here?” “To register the girl,” was Yulia’s response. “Why, she has two stamps on her migration card, she’s here less than 90 days, she’s been registered at the airport.” We left a little dumbfounded. Apparently, if you arrive in Kazakhstan through any of the international airports, you are automatically registered. The next question is what happens when I go to Bishkek in July. I am going there by car, its only three hours away, and I don’t know if they take your migration card at the border, thus unregistering me in Kazakhstan. From what I understand, you don’t fill out a replacement migration card returning to Kazakhstan. If that’s the case, I get jump through all these hoops again.

Goes to Kazakhstan!

The Journey 


6/2/2012
I arrived in Almaty early this morning and went through immigration without any hassles. After grabbing my bag and clearing customs, I was met at the airport by my driver Oleg, who apparently could tell that I was the American that he was waiting for. He drove me into the city and to Anel’s apartment. I am staying with Anel until I have found appropriate housing. After eating breakfast with her and her mother, I took a shower and fell asleep for eight hours. I only woke up about 4 P.M. when Anel was moving around in the living room where I am sleeping. I forced myself to get up, even though I could have gladly slept for another few hours, because I didn’t want to have trouble sleeping tonight. We’ll see. We went out to dinner with Lauren, a Fulbright scholar who returning to the states on Tuesday. Getting to know Lauren reminds me once again just how small my field is, Lauren knew two of my classmates from CLS Ufa!

6/1/2012
The flight from JFK to Istanbul was the longest leg of my journey to Kazakhstan and I must say that it proceeded in relative comfort, which was great because it was nine hours and would have been horrendous if it wasn’t comfortable. The food was surprisingly good for airplane food and the seats were far enough apart that you didn’t feel like cattle. They even had fake flowers in the bathroom and a chef who greeted us at the door, though I’m assuming his talents were used exclusively for the first and business class. I was seated on an aisle with an empty seat between me and my aisle mate. I took up two seats for about the first hour and he took up both seats for a couple more until I thought his face was an arm rest and then he moved. We also had a baby on the flight two seats in front of me in the middle isle. He screamed and he screamed but I was too tired to care. I was also surprised by the inflight entertainment system, which allowed you to watch movies and surf the net, for a price, but you could also charge your electronic devices with USB cords and play your own movies on the screen in front of you. Overall, it was a good flight.
Now, I am sitting in the Food Court waiting for my next flight, the one that will take me to Almaty. To pass the time, I am people watching which is made all the more interesting because Istanbul is a hub for flights from all over the world. I only wish that I had time to explore the city, the view from the air doesn’t do it justice. I’m just about to go grab some Burger King because I don’t know if the next leg will feed us or not. Plus, I think Burger King accepts dollars.

5/31/2012
I am at the beginning of another summer-long adventure that will take me first to Kazakhstan and then on to Thailand with one of my best friends. So, why Kazakhstan? I have an internship in Almaty, Kazakhstan with the Eurasian Foundation of Central Asia (ef-ca) where I research civil society, an area where I have limited knowledge but am eager to explore. During those nine-weeks, I hope to use my free time to travel the region and increase my understanding of the culture. By that, I mean travelling north to Astana, the capital of Kazakhstan, as well as south into Kyrgyzstan. In addition to research and travelling, Kazakhstan will also be an opportunity for me to practice my Russian because, by all accounts, the Kazakhs speak a very ‘clean’ Russian. I am also considering taking an elementary Kazakh class if the opportunity arises. Once my internship is concluded, I will have my real summer vacation in Thailand with Lydia.
I am currently sitting in the food court at JFK airport and settling in for twelve hours. I chose to take Jetblue from my hometown in Florida to JFK because it was the cheapest option and I am a poor graduate student. Unfortunately, that means that I have an extended layover as well as a change in airlines. I can’t even check-in until 8:10 P.M. and my flight doesn’t leave until 11:55 P.M. From JFK, I will fly through Istanbul in route to Almaty, Kazakhstan. Upon arrival a driver arranged by ef-ca will meet me and take me to the home of one of the women who works at ef-ca because, as of yet, I do not have confirmed housing in Almaty due to some last minute complications. I'm not overly worried, it’ll work itself out once I get there with the help of Mariana, my contact at ef-ca.

Getting the Kazakh Visa
Kazakhstan, like Russia, requires American citizens to apply for a visa. It is a relatively simple procedure, especially when it is compared to the hassle involved with procuring a Russian visa. For American citizens a letter of invitation is not required for a single entry tourist visa. However, I decided to get a multi-entry business visa, which would allow me to travel outside Kazakhstan and then return. It is vital because I have it in mind to make side trips to Kyrgyzstan and possibly Uzbekistan.
   First, I had to get the visa invitation. I had been hoping to get it before I left New York so that I could go to the consulate there. However, the dates in my invitation were off by a month, so I had to ask for another one. Once I received that and my cover letter, I filled out my visa application.Having completed the application and having received the necessary documentation, I sent it off with $200 of my hard earned money and my precious passport to the Kazakh Embassy in Washington D.C. After a week of keeping my fingers crossed, my passport was returned to me with my new Kazakh visa attached inside. What a relief!

Счастливого Пути!

My last week in Kazan’ has flown by, just as I knew it would.

I spent most of the week studying, and in truth, I over-studied causing myself to stress out more than necessary. Coming out of my exam, I felt confident that I had done myself justice. Even though I said the grade did not matter, and in the scheme of things, it does not, I strived to make my grade reflect the amount of work that I put in to this program.

After completing my final, the oral portion, and the ASU required speaking portion. Rachel, Mary Helen and I splurged on Школадница (chocoladnitsa). Школадница is a relatively expensive café that I became acquainted with in Moscow on my first trip. They have the most amazing hot chocolate and you have to use a spoon to drink, it is like melted chocolate. Unfortunately, it has been too hot to partake, instead I had a Greek Salad and blini stuffed with chocolate, raisins and almonds. Do not worry, I did not eat it all myself. I saved half of one for Rachel and Mary Helen to share (Right: Mary Helen and the blini). Rachel was quite funny today because she was happily enjoying a drink with ice, a rare commodity here. Afterwards, we headed down Balmana Street to do some extra shopping and take pictures. I bought a few more magnets and we took pictures along Balmana. We ended at the Kremlin and I took my trolleybus home.

I have already packed most of my things. I leave Saturday at six am, but we are meeting the bus at three-thirty in the morning outside the university. I have it easy, Rachel and several others headed to Arizona leave at four-thirty and it is an international flight, so they have to be there two hours beforehand. They are meeting at one in the morning.

Some Final Thoughts on My Time Here

I have completed that which I set out to do here, and more. I am more confident in my Russian than ever before. Not only can I make myself understood, I can engage in detailed conversations on a wide range of topics. I have almost completely read a book in Russian without a dictionary, granted it is a children’s chapter book, but it is by far the best I have ever done.

I have made great friends, friends that I hope I will keep in touch with for years to come. I will miss my language partner Masha, she is a sweet girl and I hope to keep in touch with here over Skype. Most of all, I will miss my host-sister, Lena. She has been wonderful and treated me like family; I hope to see her soon, maybe next summer.

Yes, I am already planning my return. I am ready to go home, after eight weeks; I cannot wait to see my mother and grandmothers and I cannot wait to begin the new chapter of my life that will be Columbia. Despite my excitement at returning, have no doubt that I will find my way back. Russia, though it seems unexpected to those who have not spent time here, is one of those countries that entices you to return time and again.

Until next time, happy and safe travels to all my new friends, I am sure we will meet again.

Счастливого Пути!

Оля

Winding Down

Our program is winding down, with just one week, one presentation and one exam left to go.

Tuesday was a holiday, honoring the airborne division of the Russian army. According to our professor, the members of the VDV always gets in to mischief on this day, sometimes swimming in the fountains but always getting loud and obnoxious. She also said, that we are lucky that we are living in Kazan’, in Moscow and Petersburg, this day is downright dangerous, especially for foreigner and for those who look like they hail from the Caucasus. We saw one example; our university is located on the corner of a major part the city, from our class we heard yelling and looked out to see the VDV causing a traffic jam. There was a convoy of cars, from which they were hanging out the windows waving flags. There were also about twenty or thirty standing in the back of a dump truck yelling and waving their flag. Look on the right hand side of the picture, you can see the people in the back of the dump truck, waving a blue flag.

On Tuesday, we also visited the National Museum of the Republic of Tatarstan, located near the Kremlin. This was also the first museum that I did not spend half my time staring at my watch. The museum had exhibits ranging from beginning of human colonization of this land, up through the Second World War. The museum housed exhibits of artifacts from Bolgar, as well as other ancient sites. As we continued through, we saw also saw exhibitions of icons and religious texts written in Old Church Slavonic. The museum also held royal items from the time of the Romanovs and exhibits of Kazan’s role in the Second World War, and illustrations of how people lived. Most poignant were the pictures drawn by children of bombs and planes.

My favorite exhibit was a golden stage coach, a gift from Catherine the great, who visited Kazan’ in 1767.

Thursday, in class, we watched the film “Moscow Doesn’t Believe in Tears.” It was the first time I had seen the film in its entirety and I enjoyed it immensely.

Today, we had a painting class. The class illustrated the technics for painting such items as matryoshka dolls (the famous Russian nesting dolls), and the red, black and gold lacquered spoons. I painted a spoon, a poor imitation of the original, but fun, none the less. However, I did learn that we have some very talented artists in our group, including Rachel, who painted a beautiful blue, silver and white matryoshka.

Afterwards, a few of us walked along Balman Street to purchase some last minute souvenirs. I bought a few magnets and matryoshki, though these matroyshki have a Tatar twist, they are wearing the tradition Tatar hat.

This weekend is a “free weekend.” Well free in the sense that we do not have a group excursion planned, not free in the sense that I have a final to study for, and that is exactly what I will be doing.

TIRed out

A quick recap of the week:

Tuesday,ten of us, went to a Tatar-Russian cooking class with a master chef at a three star hotel. We make trigolniki, a three corner pastries, a rabbit dish, salad, a dish of chicken stuffed with prunes and wrapped in bacon and a fish dish. We were all encouraged to take part in the cooking and then afterwards were given the chance to try it.

Here is a YouTube video of our Master class. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OusYXseL330

Wednesday, I met up with Masha and we wandered the city for a good couple of hours. We walked up Balmana, to a wax museum, to the Kremlin and then back down. It was fun, she is sweet and I am going to miss her when I go home

Thursday was my usual studying and Friday was my exam and a free afternoon.

The Weekend

Our excursion, this weekend, was a full weekend excursion to the city of Nizhnii Novgorod and the village of Boldino.

We met the bus at five-fifty, Saturday morning in the center of the city. This required a taxi; since I was not willing to risk missing the tour by trying to catch a bus that may, or may not, arrive. We met up at the mall, in the center of the city, but did not leave for nearly an hour due to late-comers. The first bus ride, was was about five hours long. I slept a good portion of it, and woke up in time for us to arrive at Nizhnii Novgorod. We picked up our tour-guide at a bus stop, and she directed us to the café where we ate lunch. After lunch, we headed to the Kremlin, like the Kremlins in Moscow and Kazan’, this Kremlin was a walled in area built for defense and it has several large towers around its perimeter. It was Saturday and the weather was beautiful, and we kept running into wedding parties. It is traditional for the newlyweds and their family and friends to have their photos taken at places of importance. We probably saw twenty different wedding parties.

Within the Kremlin walls, our tour guide lead us around, telling us the history of the Kremlin, which has existed since the fifteen hundreds. The Kremlin is now home to the government of the Nizhnii Novgorod Oblast and we passed some of the more modern building that housed some of the administrative bodies. It also has an exhibition of famous Soviet artillery from World War II, our ROTC students had a blast with those. We also visited a church within the confines of Kremlin. There had once been more churches. If I recall and translated the words of the guide correctly, there had been ten churches and three or four monasteries in the Kremlin. Unfortunately, many were blown up or destroyed under Soviet rule.

We also visited the eternal flame, lit in honor of those who fought in the Second World War. It is also traditional for newlyweds to lay flowers before it (picture). Our tour guide was “go, go, go,” the entire time and after giving us only a few minutes to souvenir shop we left. Unfortunately, we also left some of our new three weekers.

Our tour guide hustled us down a pedestrian street, with shops on both sides, quickly telling us the history of some of the buildings, before declaring that part of our tour was over. That is when we discovered our missing three weekers, they were still at the Kremlin. We went back and retrieved them before continuing a bus tour of the city.

We stopped by this truly magnificent cathedral, built by the Stroganoff family. It’s cupalas were reminiscent of those of those that crown St. Basils in Moscow. After the church we visited the home of Gorky, the famous writer. That was another quick tour before we were back on the bus for another four-hour drive to the village of Boldino.

We dropped off the tour guide and had a pit stop at McDonalds. Most people got something to eat, I was silly enough not to, thinking, “Hey, we’ll be stopping soon for dinner.” Here begins our “TIR: This Is Russia” experience, we file back on to bus and begin our drive to the village, an hour or so into it, Dr. Livingston announces that, since we were running late, we will no longer be able to eat at the planned stop and that we would eat at the hotel. Okay, we can handle that. So the Russian boy, who has been arranging things for us, calls the hotel. We find out, that there is only a single cook, so we need to figure out one meal that he can make it in bulk. We decided on chicken, they call the hotel back, only to be informed there is not any meat. So what is there to eat? Salad, blini and eggs. With dinner settled and our bus contining down the road, we pass a religious procession and cows in the road, and then are stopped by the police. They inform the bus driver that the road further down closed and we needed to make a detour. So, our bus turns around and head back the direction we came, we pass the religious procession. We retraced our steps for about thirty or forty minutes. We then turn down another road, and continue towards Boldino. I do not know much of what happened during the rest of the drive, except that I woke up once to the bus drivers discussing whether the GPS was right or not. We arrived at the hotel in Boldino about eleven-thirty, two and a half hours later than expected. Mary Helen, Rachel and I, investigated our room and left our stuff inside and headed to the restaurant for our much-anticipated dinner. After dinner, we headed back and Rachel tried to take a shower. Our room did not have enough water pressure to run the shower, so we ended up using washrags and the sink facet to clean up. The three of us headed to bed about half twelve and slept soundly.

What can you do in these situations but shrug, laugh and say, “this is Russia?” If you cannot do that, Russia is not the place for you.

The next morning, we got our first look at Boldino. It is small and it is fame is derived from the fact that Pushkin lived there for a few months, twice, and wrote about fifty pieces of writing. More, our tour guide proudly told us, than any other period in his life. From what I understood, the Pushkin family owned the property as well as a thousand serfs on a large plot of land that surround the house. I was in the first tour group, we made our way through the museum house and its exhibits and then around the garden and the wooden structures on it. These included the “office,” where grain scales were kept, the banya, the stables and a small house where each room held a Pushkin fairy tale. The grounds were beautiful, my group finished first, so we wandered for an hour waiting for the second group to finish.

During the down time, I was able to get to know some of the three weekers. They had completed their first eight weeks of Russian, ever, in Tempe and are now in Kazan for our final three weeks. When the second group, caught up with us, we headed back to the hotel, bought some provision for the ride and headed back to Kazan’.

There was one more TIR moment. “The green toilet;” our rest stops consisted of us pulling to the side of the road, going behind a structure to do our business, the girls on one side of the road, the boys on the other. Our bus arrived in Kazan’ about eight-thirty in the evening, just in time for me to catch one of the last buses, to my part of the city.

If I could have had it my way, we would have spent the entire weekend in Nizhnii Novgorod instead of the five or six-hour whirlwind tour that we did. I would have like to have been able to investigate the city more thoroughly and spent more time in the Kremlin, visiting the museum we skipped.

It is now August, and only two weeks left in the program. As much as I love Russia, and anyone who knows me, knows how much, I am ready to go home, see my family and friends and enjoy some American consistency.

Until next time,

Оля