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Postcards from:
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Hello from Almaty Kazakhstan, Well, I made it into Kazakhstan (MAP ). At the simple border post Kyrgyz guards held me back for special attention as my van and all the other passengers disappeared on the other side of the barrier gates and behind long lines of waiting trucks. The delay lasted under ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity as I pondered the possible loss of my bag and onward transport. After leaving Bishkek Kyrgyzstan and crossing the border we went through miles and miles of open range grasslands in Kazakhstan. Our own country must have been like this a century ago. "Cowboys" on horseback watched herds of horses and cattle, shepherds kept sheep flocking and goatherds chased goats back and forth across the highway. A few people still live in felt covered yurtas visible from the highway and there were at least two motels along the way with such native accommodations. After the cramped five-hour bus ride into Almaty I desperately wanted a shower and a place to rest. The gods must have been angry with me, because the only place I could find during the first two hours of my three hour walk demanded $138 per night and would not suggest cheaper alternatives: "All the other hotels are more expensive." said the snooty receptionist and: "No, I don't know of another nearby hotel." Actually, I think the snobs at the five star Hotel Kazakhstan felt my travel attire failed their dress code, at least that's the impression I got from all the dirty looks. Admittedly, I must have looked a mess: sagging backpack, grubby blue jeans and wild white hair flying amid all the suits lingering in the lobby. Outside the Hotel Kazakhstan, a well-dressed young guy dashed by me; stooping down directly in front of me so I nearly stumbled over him with my pack. As I maneuvered to regain my balance, he stood up holding a roll of hundred dollar bills in my face with a questioning _expression, clearly waiting for me to "bite." I pushed by him brusquely, giving him a dirty look in the process. As I hurried on down the sidewalk I glanced back and he had totally disappeared, off to find another potential mark, no doubt. Some major conference had gobbled up an enormous number of first class rooms causing many hotels to be booked solid for the rest of the week. As darkness threatened to make my search all that more complicated I finally found the $65 Almaty Hotel... also fully booked. The helpful receptionist called three other near by hotels none of which had any vacancies. Suddenly she remembered the unused third floor rooms used by off duty casino staff and offered me one of those. At that point I would have taken a cot in the boiler room sight unseen. She set a special "hardship" rate of $33 for the monk's cell she gave me. It is tiny and Spartan, but has hot water, BBC and a surprisingly comfortable bed. Best of all, it includes a massive Russian breakfast, truly a feast fit for a Czar. I'll just pretend I paid $33 for breakfast and that they threw the tiny bed and cramped quarters in free. Later I discovered most of their regular standard rooms on other floors are not much better than mine. The two highest floors have been remodeled, but my cursory inspection suggested they are only marginally better than the rooms on my floor. In any case, they seem to be reserved for Russian and German guests... or those wearing fashionable business attire. None became available to me during my seven-night stay. After a good night's rest, out again I went exploring and hotel shopping... I have seen many hotels now on my city bus rides, but all are either very expensive or not suitable for First World septuagenarians. Most have Soviet era elevators the size of telephone booths with individual controls programmed to create the maximum confusion for riders. As a consequence, people typically push all of the individual call buttons during long waits for any elevator. Looking back, my $33 room in the Hotel Almaty represented an excellent value for this expensive city. Good hotels average a hundred bucks a night. Almost no hotel offers a discount or "special" rates. Even access to the Internet is expensive. Where I had been paying about a quarter per hour in China, here it costs $1.80 to $3.75 per hour. Wages for the average laborer range from $100 to $150 per month, making me wonder why living costs are so high. It is no wonder people wear sullen expressions on their faces. Few people I meet smile spontaneously and hardly anyone returns a friendly smile. It will be the sea of scowls I most remember of my contact with the Kazakhs and Russians here. Restaurant food ranges from cheap to expensive... not that different from California. Like Kyrgyzstan, most stores sell Vodka and beer in addition to whatever else they have: "Want a liter of Vodka with those shoes?" Like Vegas, there are slot machines tucked in the corners of most convenience stores and lots of Casinos around the center of the city. My Kazakhstan visa is good until 16 June, but I started checking onward options early. After that first day suffering repeated sticker shock at the fancy places I felt ready to forget Kazakhstan all together and head back into China immediately. That passed soon after finding the Hotel Almaty and I enjoyed exploring the city during my remaining seven days. Almaty is as modern as any medium sized city in the West and seems to have outgrown most of its bad Soviet planning. The older buildings show the skewed Russian view of practical design, but a lot of the city has been built/rebuilt in the last couple decades. Everyone dresses to reflect Western standards. People make gold crowns on their front teeth a fashion statement as best I can tell. There sure are a lot of women with sparkling gold smiles... and a few men as well. Like in China, a high percentage of people smoke here... including the women. The stinking odor of cheap cigarette smoke pollutes every nook and cranny of this city. Even in the shady city parks one is not safe from the offensive pungent fumes that drift across the city. Smoking is prohibited on buses, but the drivers and conductors smoke anyway with impunity. It is a disgrace. Smoking is also prohibited in some office buildings and all upscale shopping complexes. Banished smokers congregate around entrances to such places just like in California. Men walk around with open bottles of beer in one hand and cigarettes in the other... sometimes with a girlfriend similarly encumbered. Other people here have the Sunflower seed nibbling habit, something I first saw in western China. When not being asphyxiated by smokers I'm being driven crazy by so many people cracking seeds at the same time it sounds like bacon frying. Two full days during my stay it drizzled, giving me an excuse to spend time inside Internet Clubs out of the rain. For years I have heard rumors that there are a lot of exceptionally beautiful women in Almaty. I have certainly seen plenty of pretty Russian girls here. Why? I don't know. Possibly because the Kazakhs let only pretty girls stay in the country when they sent most Russians packing after the break up of the Soviet Union. In the past year the Kazakh legislature has embarked on a policy of de-Russification according to one of my local informants. The Official Language is now Kazakh and the government is in the process of hiring only native Kazakhs: Russians are being phased out of government jobs. Given the pervasive Russian/Soviet influences evident throughout the culture at the present time, significant dislocations and turmoil are likely in the coming years. Buses are cheap, especially for oldsters like me, just seven cents for a ride to anywhere; the young unimpaired folks pay fifteen cents. Seats all have comfortable cushions. People are generally polite and give up their seats for the ancient or disabled... If they don't, the conductor sometimes will force the issue with noise and embarrassment! Pay toilets are big business, charging about fifteen cents per visit... a lot given the average labor wage is about $100-$150 per month. Imagine your reaction if required to pay $2 to answer nature's call while shopping. That might explain why a kid of about eight stepped out of the main entrance to the largest shopping mall in town and entertained unabashed shoppers with an extraordinary exhibit of his urgent urination capabilities. The American Embassy is still located here and is the most unusual one I've ever visited. Located on the top floor of a major bank building, it is guarded by Russian! and Kazakh security personnel in US Immigration uniforms; not a spiffy Marine in sight. No signs or flags identify the embassy's presence; citizen services are available a total of four hours a week. Not a single Native American showed their face during my visits. The formidable vehicle barriers blend into the surroundings so well they are easily overlooked. Once a province of the Soviet Union, Kazakhstan became a independent country when the USSR fell in late 1991. Kazakhstan is the world's ninth largest country in area and has a population of approximately 17 million. The former Soviet colony still retains a predominantly Russian flavor. All newsstand publications and radio programs are in Russian. Everyone, save some of the older Kazakhs speaks Russian. Kazakhstan is best known in Russia as one of the remote places used for atomic bomb testing last century and as the site of the Cosmodrome, which ushered in the space age. I saw a dozen traffic accidents during my week stay in Almaty. Crazy teen drivers zip around town rain or shine. I suspect they are responsible for many of the fender benders. I have not seen any injured people, though. Strange. While the rest of the world is screaming about high gas prices, Kazakhs enjoy comfortably cheap fuel. Gas stations advertise a liter of gas at 36 to 58 Tenge or about $1.10 to $1.70 a gallon at a time when world prices have topped $42/barrel (6/1/04) and California drivers are paying twice that. After seven days of putting up with colossal breakfasts, awkward tiny bathtub showers, and too many people who never warmed to this stranger, I decided to head for another part of the country. Photos taken while wandering Almaty this time are here. Photos taken while visiting Central Park are here. Peace, Fred Bellomy
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