Border Blizzard to Almaty


Advertisement
Russia's flag
Europe » Russia » Northwest » Moscow
December 18th 2004
Published: December 18th 2004
Edit Blog Post

By the time I made it to another city the blizzard had calmed a bit and it was late enough in the day that people were starting to wake up and work etc. This part of Kazakhstan was beautiful when I passed through, especially with all the snow and pine trees that go on forever.

Sasha the russian with the gut dropped me off at a bus station. The poverty was worse than russia by this point, we were in a place with no banks and no atms of course and there is no place to exchange dollars or roubles for Kazakhstani Tenge. So i was without a penny, phone number, address, or any information as to where my friend Sara was and how to reach her other than that she lived in a town called Ridder, formerly Leninogorsk. I pictured myself showing up, getting out of the bus or car and going into a shop and saying "take me to your american." but the town turned out to be a tad bigger than that.

So at the taxi stand or bus station the taxi drivers fought over who could help me. Eventually i settled on a Kazak man again driving an old worn out little Lada. The Lada had proven fantastic in the Blizzard, so I stayed faithful. He drove me 150Km for 50$. On the bus it would've been $2, but really what could i have done.

We arrive in Ridder via a bridge passing through the mountains, over a running little stream that has cut a whole in the snow and ice, and past a lovely soviet looking coal processing plant which turned out to be the lifeline of the city. We drove on and i eventually got it across that I needed to phone my friend (he thought I meant my friend in Ridder, but I really meant my other friend in Taraz (another 40+ hrs to the south on the uzbek border)) Matt who I lived with in ARgentina.

We pulled off the road at the kiosk public phone thing, and he lent me his phone card. I went in and tried to phone, and of course it didn't work. After 15 mts the taxi driver came in looking for me, asked everyone for help, if anyone knew German or English to speak with me. The shop keeper did know a few words and she was really helpful. After not reaching matt or anyone else I called the embassy, got connected to the Peace Corps office, and argued my way until they gave me Sara's host family's number in Ridder. Of course Sara wasn't home but her host brother told the shop keeper the adderss of her house and school where she is a volunteer, and they wrote it down in indecipherable cryillic cursive.

The taxi driver at that point wanted to get the hell out of there, and he convinced the shop keeper and another guy to take care of me from there on in. they drove me to a place to change some money, then to a hotel. I spent the rest of the night watching Russian MTV and hoping sara would call, or that i could get through to her.

The next morning I woke up in my gorgeous hotel suite and reluctantly went downstairs to find sara. I was still petrified I wasn't going to find her afterall. I walked around the city for a bit with the indecipherable cyrillic cursive address of her school. I kept going up to people and saying "no russian, american, school, address, my friend, please please please" and they would point me on to the next unsuspecting Russian Kazakhstani who hasn't seen an american since the Britney Spears video they may have passed by that morning. No tourists go to this part of Kazakhstan.

***NOTE A Kazak is an asian looking nationality with there own language etc., a Russian Kazak is a mix between those two nationalities, and a Russian Kazakhstani is a Russian who is a citizen of Kazakhstan.****

So eventually after pointing, walking in circles, i made it about a block away from my hotel where it turned out Sara's school is located. My good luck indeed.

I walked in and said Sara? and they went to get her teaching counterpart, a Kazak women who she team teaches with. Salima and I spoke for a while until Sara showed up. She learned about ten mts before I saw her that I was in town, and needless to say she was a bit surprised to see me.

Ridder was a really small town, and of course because I'm in central asia and russia there are a lot of errands that need to be run. the nasty errands like registering and making sure the entire police force knows you are there.

Sara and I headed back to my hotel to pick up my things and head over to her house. In the short time we were there I policeman showed up at my door asking to see my documents. I no longer had to worry about language because I know had my wonderful translators around! He basically just told us that we had to go to the police station by tomorrow and register my visa and passport. All that means is they write down your information about 14 times and than stamp it.

Lovely.

Mongolia is what Kazakhstan was. I think it must have to do with how developed the northern country was above, or rather Kazakstan is closer to European Russia therefore it's more developed. The land above Mongolia is central and eastern siberia, needless to say a wasteland and therefore the soviets didn't penetrate as deep into the country. also Mongolia wasn't a SSR it was just a satellite i think..

My point: it's a lot more developed although than Monogolia although they still retain many of the cultural similarities. The languages are both Turkic, the animals are very important to both cultures...

I stayed from Sunday to Friday in Ridder and went out a few times. We went to a pub and got invited back to this group of girls house. After helping throw out a drunk and passed out Russian man into a snowbank outside the pub they invited us back to dance and see their homes. They seemed nice enough and since they were women it seemed fine. At the house they brought out every picture of them that had been taken since 1943, their shotguns, and any other toy that appeared remotely interesting. One guy gave me an orthodox cross. When it was time to leave on of the girls, Olga, insisted on coming with us in the taxi even though we told her we had to go home and we couldn't go anywhere after. It turned into a very uncomfortable situation (yet again) because she, drunk, came upstairs with us into sara's host family's house and yelled some racial slur when she saw that the family was Kazak and not Russian.

Like in every country there is racism. It just seems odd that when you life in a country called KAZAKhstan you would be still racist against the very majority who run your country. In order to have a government job in that country you must speak both languages so as a result it seems as if most are Kazak.

So olga lingered by the door after I threw her out for a good hour. Every 10 mts I went to see if she was still there, and the last time she started screaming at me saying she didn't have money to get home and she wanted DOLLARS to take a taxi. I just shook my head, turned the other way, closed the big metal soviet apartment door and walked upstairs.

The only way from Ridder to Almaty was some horrile bus and train again, most likely snaking in and out like last time. I decided to just fly rather than risk the border again. Almaty is in the southern part of the country and I was going to visit Matt who took the train up from taraz. The flight was extremely tight and the plane way to small, but it was safe enough. It reminded me of the Monoglian airline MIAT which they say stands for Maybe I'll Arrive Tomorrow. It's no excuse on safety to tell yourself that you don't hear of accidents THAT often in these countries... but the truth is the accidents aren't reported if there are no foreigners on board. Peace Corps sends volunteers on these flights so I assumed it was safe.

I flew from Ust Kamenogorsk to Almaty on Air Astana. Sara and I spent a night in Ust-Kamenogorsk with some other Peace Corps volunteers (PCVs). They made me promise not to let out the secret of their city, but i have to tell someone. The ratio of women to men in this city is 5 or 6 to ONE. Add in the American male card and you have two years of gorgeous Russian women. of course they are all short, fat, and bald men who at home wouldn't meet a new girl more than once a year. here... they all had 3 or 4 girls going at once! But word here is that they are the kind of girl that agrees with you on everything and doesn't really have too much to say. but fun nonetheless.

Matt met me at the airport after the two hour flight (luxury!) and we went back to our rented apartment.

And so I started my time in Almaty.

Fast forward to the train however..

I borded the train 5 days ago now and shared a kupe with 3 kazak men, a producer, director, and cameraman crossing the country to do a story for some news channel. The train ride was similiar to the others with lots of drunk annoying people offering me vodka and wanting to hear about the US. The most bizarre part:

On numerous occasions I had to leave the kupe so two of those three men could enjoy a 45 year old, short and squat, horse whip selling, prostitute who had more gold teeth than white. Then whenever I would come back I was in a constant struggle to insist that NO, NO, NO she must leave NOW.

The night of the border crossing I learned that once again the train snaked in and out, but they didn't make me get off. The last stop before our final entry into Kazakhstan a Kazakh border patrolman scammed me for 120$, basically threantening that if i didn't pay him he'd rip me off the train. There gose a week's accomodation in Russia.

Been walking around the city most of the day today. This city is so expensive, but it really is gorgeous around Red Square.

I don't think this trip could get any more bizarre.

Didn't end up going to the Nutcracker as tickets were sold out. but tonight we're going to Giselle (is that the right spelling or is that the name of the brasilian model?)
some ballet at the national theatre here.



Advertisement



Tot: 0.058s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 12; qc: 27; dbt: 0.0309s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1; ; mem: 1.1mb