Recreation in the Alatau Mountains

Big Almaty Lake, in the mountains to the south of me.

"We are just now learning how to rest," My friend and colleague said to me, talking about Kazakhs in general.  Her comment elicited a picture in my mind of a self-help group for Kazakhs, where they all sat around in comfy chairs learning how to use a television remote control. 
What she meant was that under the Soviet Union's government that ruled Kazakhstan before their peaceful independence in 1991, the recreation industry was virtually nonexistent.  All industry was owned by the government, and while recreation is not necessarily forbidden under communism, the industry doesn't exactly boom. 

A berry-picking girl on a picnic.

Since Kazakhstan's independence and simultaneous conversion to capitalism, tourism and recreation has blossomed as an industry, and Kazakhs are very receptive.  Gorky park, Almaty's biggest park complete with paddle boat rides on a small lake, carnival rides, an aquapark, and a zoo, is packed every weekend. 

But a large chunk of the Almaty population takes after my own heart and likes to get out of the city on weekends.  Two buses run from Almaty to different parts of the Alatau Mountains, the local ridge line in the Tien Shan Mountains that are south of the city.  These buses are packed on weekends, as are the trails.  Often small groups of people will be headed out overnight.  While the mountains are some of the most gorgeous I have ever seen, it is obvious that locals are relatively new to getting out and enjoying them.  The leave-no-trace ethic that I so whole-heartedly believe in and follow is non-existent here.  Not only is there trash thrown everywhere across the trail and human feces and toilet paper found behind trees, but the sensitive desert crust and alpine zones are driven over with cars, and chopping down a tree for a family shashlik BBQ is routine practice. 

Charyn Canyon, in the steppe to the
northeast of Almaty.

Picnics are huge here.  Families carrying with plastic bags full of food, blankets to sit on, and fire-starter head out into the hills for a picnic. 

I took a bus out to Charyn canyon a couple weeks ago.  Kazakh bus rides are quite an experience.  I had a cold to begin with, but riding for four-and-a-half hours over bumpy dirt roads in the back of a full, 1970's German bus with broken seats that poked into your back and no air circulation didn't help my mood.  Still, the canyon was worth seeing.  It looked like it belonged in Utah.  When my friend from Germany and I exited the bus, we walked the opposite direction from everyone else.  While Kazakh vacationers headed down into the canyon armed with plastic bags full of shashlik (Kazakh shish kabob), plof (a rice dish), and other picnic foods, my friend and I walked along the top of the canyon.  Looking down over the ridge I expected to see water, and was surprised to only find a road.  Where was the water that had obviously carved these crazy-looking paths through the desert?

I found it about 5 kilometers later, flowing down another canyon.  When we finally decided to join the other tourists by the water, we realized how fast it was flowing.  Glacial run-off is cold, and there is a story floating around my school of a woman who fell into the Charyn River (right where I was) and was never found.  As much as I wanted to jump in, I kept my distance. 

One of the most amazing-looking trees
I've ever seen.  It looks like something
out of a fairytale!

The river was an oasis.  From the top of the canyon, as far as the eye could see was beige desert.  But down by the water the land was green and lush.  Charyn canyon is northeast of the city.  The following weekend I hiked up to Big Almaty Lake, in the mountains south of the city.  Although the two places aren't all that far about (a couple hundred kilometers or so), the landscapes couldn't look more different.  The snow-capped mountains provided a sharp color contrast to the bright turquoise water typical of glacial lakes, and the dark blue of the sky (which is a nice change from the smog-infested sky from the city).  The desert landscape provided little contrast.

 I feel fortunate to have moved to a city with so much nature around me.  I was nervous when I accepted this job that getting out of town would be a challenge.  I'm lucky that this is not the case!

Learning the Ropes

View of the Eastern edge of town from
the top of the ferriswheel in Gorsky Park.

The internet guy just came to fix/install my home internet!  And for some reason I am able to access my blog from home, when I wasn't able to from school or any internet cafe.  Of course, I had to choose between internet or telephone - they can't seem to find a way for me to have both.  Sort of like I have to choose between having my washer work or my toilet flush - how they're connected is a mystery to me, but it's one or the other.  And no, unplugging the internet and plugging in the telephone doesn't seem to work - there's some kind of Kazakh magic at work that I'm not privy to.

Navigating the Blogger site in Kazakh was also a challenge.  I finally figured out how to choose my language and have the directions in English, but for a while it was dicey whether or not I was going to be able to do that. 

Things at school are also a bit unpredictable.  The supply order for this school year that was ordered last November hasn't arrived yet.  We have nothing.  We were told to use paper sparingly, which means I can't print out the syllabus for my students, and I have about 3 pieces of chalk.  When my computer, the internet, and the school's server are all working at the same time (a rare coincidence) I can use my projector, but the computer often locks up in the middle of a PowerPoint presentation with a message saying something like I do not have permission to view the remaining slides (of the presentation that I created). 

With the exception of the school supplies, these minor inconveniences are somewhat endearing.  I'm told that I'm in the "honeymoon" phase of living abroad; that I will become more annoyed with living here as time goes on, and even become spiteful.  Somehow I don't think so - I genuinely like this city.  The people here are so kind and willing to help.  My mode of transportation currently is my bicycle, and I often get lost when going to new places, so I'm constantly having to ask people on the street how to get here or there.  They are always tolerant of my broken Russian and my requests to repeat their answer more slowly, and point me in generally the right direction most of the time. 

The little turtle looked out of place in the flowerbeds
of a small park in the center of Almaty.

Although I generally don't have the best sense of direction, I have to defend myself in how often I get lost in Almaty: the streets aren't always labeled at the intersections (they're often labeled a street or two back), and each street has an old Soviet name such as Lenin or Frunzia as well as a new Kazakh name such as Caina or Auezova.  My map is labeled with some of the old names and some of the new names, but many streets on my map aren't labeled.  Also, there are two Auezova streets, and the one that the school is on is mislabeled, which caused me some anxiety the first time I was trying to get to work. 

I really can't complain too much, however, because it's instantly apparent the second I start going in the wrong direction.  The mountains are always visible, and they are to the south.  The entire city slopes downhill to the north.  Since my main mode of transportation is my bicycle, I know immediately when I'm headed in generally the wrong direction because I have to change gears.  School is north of where I live.  It takes me 25 minutes to bike to school, and almost 50 minutes to bike home, so the slope is decent.  If I find myself going uphill when my destination is to the north, then I know I've taken a wrong turn. 

Sculptures in the center of town.

There is a much easier way to get around: gypsy taxi.  A gypsy taxi is anyone with a driver's license, a car, and who is going generally in your direction.  Kazakhs stand on the street with their hand out, tell the driver where he or she wants to go, and negotiate a price (usually less than 500 tg, or $4.00).  It's a nice safety net for me wandering the city: if I ever get really lost and I don't think I'll be able to find my way home I can always wave down a taxi and tell the driver where I want to go. 

Clutch-burnt Air, a Cement River, and Mountain Construction: My first few days

My apartment building - I live on the 6th floor. 

The first thing I noticed when I stepped off the plane at Almaty International Airport was the smell. It was burning rubber, like riding a clutch too long, or driving with the breaks on. It sat heavy in my lungs, dirty with dust, exhaust, burning trash, construction, and limited environmental regulations.
I relaxed with the smell. My anxieties about moving here that were spinning out of control only hours before were centered around my fear of the unknown. But this wasn’t unknown at all – it was the same smell that overwhelmed my senses the moment I stepped into Delhi and Beijing. It is the familiar stench of Asia.
There is one thing you should know if you decide to move to Almaty with more luggage than you can carry on your person: the carts at the airport are few and far between, and highly coveted by those who can speak Russian well and are able to be more pushy. Having to ask someone the word for cart (telega), and having spoken no Russian for 11 years, I was in no position to be pushy about my need for one. No offered to help when I stacked my bags in a clumsy pile and attempted to drag them out the door to where (thankfully) the curriculum director of Almaty International School was waiting with a big smile and helping hand.
The driver brought me to my 6th-floor apartment, furnished for royalty and complete with security and a doorman, at about 2 in the morning. It was another two sleepless nights before my body decided that it would in fact make the 10-hour time zone change and sleep when the sun slept. (I know I told everyone that there is an 11-hour time zone difference between Kazakhstan time and EST, but I didn’t take into account daylight savings, a season not recognized by Kazakhs).
I have trouble sleeping when I don’t eat, and the clutch-burnt air of Asia, coupled with the fact that I can’t seem to keep my mouth closed in the shower, always has a nauseating effect on me. In the past I’ve stop noticing it after a while, and only remember that it’s there after returning to the states and having it disappear.

Standing on top of Chimbolak, the local ski resort.

After a couple days of settling in, exploring the mall directly adjacent to my house and walking along the Big Girl-From-Almaty River (ok, so translating this river name isn’t easy) that runs by my front door (see picture: the Kazakhs built it a cement channel so it wouldn’t become confused and inadvertently re-direct itself down a street), I decided I needed a bicycle. A new American friend of mine who has lived in Almaty for the past three years took me to a local bike shop. After some initial difficulties in convincing the store owner that I wanted to buy (not rent) a used bike (not new) that was complete with all its parts, he told me to wait an hour. I didn’t really believe him, as my friend and I were the only ones there, but he proceeded to find lots of other customers who spoke Russian during that hour. Almost an hour and a half of sitting on the front steps later he came out with a bike. I thought that maybe I’d get a choice – he had a long line of used bikes piled in the back. But no – that was the one I could have, take it or leave it, thank you very much. When I asked if I could ride it a bit he looked annoyed, but consented. It’s not a bad bike – a Gary Fisher mountain bike that cost me 25000 tenge. It’s strange paying in bills that have so many zeros. I think the exchange rate right now is 147 tenge to the US dollar.

Ascension Cathedral - a Russian Orthodox Church

On Monday the directors of AIS took all of us newbies on an outing. We were going to drive up to Chimbulak, the local ski resort. The plan was to take the lift up to the top, and hike around for a bit. Why the road even has switchbacks is a mystery to me. Although it traverses the mountain, I can’t imagine it’s any less steep than if it ran straight up. We got to Medeu, the ice rink that lies approximately half way between the city and the ski resort, and the bus driver decided that the bus couldn’t make it any further. So we got out and walked. I was looking forward to a nice hike, and wasn’t too disappointed when this plan was decided. A few kilometers into it, however, I began to reconsider my excitement. The pavement was brand new – the road was being re-done for the Asian games that are going to take place in Almaty and Astana (Kazakhstan’s capital) in February. The sticky, smelly black stuff we were walking on was also hot. Coupled with the construction fumes and noise that was constant the entire way up, were the cars and construction vehicles that were often bigger than the road itself, and loved to honk at us. They weren’t the best smelling things either. When we finally reached the top of the chair lift we were all too exhausted to hike very far. Still, the views were amazing. I’m excited to explore the mountains!

Moving to the Other Side of the Planet

For the last few months, many of my conversations either begin with or ultimately lead to me saying, "well I'm moving to Kazakhstan soon, so..." which is followed by one of three reactions:

1) A blank stare, and, "...where?"
2) A big smile, and, "My cousin/friend/colleague lived there.  What an amazaing adventure!"
 or
3) "Why would you ever..."

I was surprised by the number of people who had difficulty pronouncing the three-syllable country name (KAZ-AK-STAN), but less surprised by the number of people who had no idea where it is, or only know the name from the movie Borat. 

Kazakhstan is a big country located smack dab in the middle of Asia, bordering Russia to the north, China to the east, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan to the south, and the Caspian Sea to the west.  I knew almost nothing about it before I decided to move there.  The book Apples are from Kazakhstan by Christopher Robbins, and the Lonely Plant's Guide to Central Asia are my only sources of information.  From these books I've discovered that Kazakhs are known for their skills as horsemen, and were nomadic herders until Soviet days.  From what I hear, Kazakhs are extremely friendly and hospitable people. 

I'll be living in Almaty, which is in the southeastern part of the country, very close to both the Kyrgyz and Chinese boarders.  To the south is the Tian Shan mountains, which, like the rest of the Himalayas, run east to west.  Most mountain ranges I've ever seen run north-south, and I'm excited to see how this axis influences the ecology (science nerd that I am).  Exploring these mountains is what excites me the most. 

I'm going to be teaching at Almaty International School, a private day school that is designed for children of expatriates from around the world.  Almaty International School is one of 36 schools run by an organization called Quality Schools International (www.qsi.org). 

My goal in keeping this blog is to keep everyone in my life informed on what and how I'm doing while away on the other side of the planet.  Central Asia seems to be a big blank spot on the mental map of the people I know.  I'm excited to fill in some of this area for you.  I have also heard a lot of anxiety in the voices of my friends and family members when they talk about me moving to the blank spot on their mental maps.  I hope that by sharing how I'm doing and what is going on, I'll bring light to this dark area and quell these anxieties that stem from the unknown.

Please feel free to ask questions and tell me what you want to hear about!  I also welcome emails (tifincalcagni@yahoo.com) and hearing about how everyone is doing back in the US.