Life in Almaty

Sat, 25 June - Mike here.

5:40 PM

I just got back from the internet cafe. I bought some water on the way back from the nice lady in the store downstairs, and then came in to find the rest of the family still asleep after our little excursion up the mountain. Pretty late nap, but it doesn't really matter. I'll get them up when I'm done here.

I indulged myself today in buying a pipe. I paid 10,000 Tenge for it (about $75), which is the price of a decent pipe at home. I'm not sure how really good this one is, but it was hand-carved by an artist selling various carvings in a little pull-up booth on a path at the ski resort. It's got a bull-head (nose ring and all) on the front of it, and it's made of wood. Pretty cool, I thought. Anyway, it must have come to me today because I took a break earlier today to smoke my first pipe on the trip. I don't smoke often anyway, but on vacations I indulge a little.

We think the apartment we're staying in is sometimes used by visiting (or nomadic?) Hare Krishas. First of all, the apartment, although a odd mix of decors, is partly done in straw mats and beach furniture and such. Also, there's the odd collection of clay pots, the incense in the urn in the bathroom, and the strange spices in the cupboard. It's clear that the place gets used for adopting (American) couples, too, because the kitchen is stocked with leftover peanut butter and microwave popcorn, and has a real coffee pot.

There are "porches" on the east and west end of the apartment. That's in quotes because they are really just enclosed balconies. We get morning sun on one end, and evening sun on the other. Usually a nice breeze, too, because we leave everything open (no mosquitoes here!). If you stick your head out a porch window slightly and look to the south, you are rewarded with a spectacular view of the mountains to the south -- the same ones we visited this morning. Our driver (his name is Vitali) tells us in his self-taught broken English that if you go over those mountains in one direction, you're in China. In a slightly different direction, Afghanistan. In yet another, Kyrgystan. To be honest, I don't quite understand the Afghanistan reference, but it's interesting nonetheless.

Linda and Bacha just woke up, by the way. Linda is painting Bacha's fingernails.

It's good to be in a real city right now. Anonymity comes easier. There are more weirdos walking around in general, so an American -- even with Kazakh kids -- is less of a distraction. It's nice to not be noticed as much. Even shopping in the store downstairs is easier, as the lady seems used to people who don't speak Russian (or Kazakh).

We're going out for dinner tonight. We were pointed at a restaurant a block and a half away. Apparently the menu has an English translation, which would be welcome. There's also an outside cafe that I walked by on my way to the internet cafe, and it looks well-suited (fenced outdoor area, tables that can't be broken or messed up, casual). We'll see. When Tucker gets up, we're outa here. Bacha just went in there to show him her new fingernails. I haven't heard screaming yet...

9:27 PM

We just got back from a very nice dinner at the restaurant that was recommended to us. They had an English-speaking waitress, which was the only way we would have stayed. We had nothing unusual, but the quality of everything was a step up from what we're used to. We shared two bowls of soup (borshch and salyanka), a "salad" of cut tomatoes and cucumbers, three of a meat-and-vegetable-filled pastry, and the main course, of course, shashlyk. We had lamb and chicken tonight. We asked for pork, but were told (with a smile) that it was a Muslim establishment. Oops. All in all, it was a very good meal, though not cheap (5200 Tenge). But we have tons of leftovers.

One interesting thing about the place was that there were several tables where the customers, mostly men, were catting and smoking in a lounged position. When they "sat up" to eat, it was cross-legged. The table was about 14 inches high, and they were essentially all sitting on the floor (though the platform was raised). The menu itself looked like it was in Arabic, though I'm sure it was a scripted Kazakh, which was once Arabic anyway.

A little bit about Bacha. She's very strong-willed, and has a very strong "no." It's difficult to get a reaction out of her when we tell her "no" to something, as well. I'm trying hard to solve some of that by saying "no" less. Instead of "don't do that", I try to say "do this" instead. That sort of thing. When I can manage it, it works because there's less head-butting. Even at mealtime, Linda and I are both giving up on trying too hard to make her eat what she's "supposed" to eat. We figure that as long as she's drinking milk and eating some oatmeal and yogurt, she'll live.

She and Tucker are playing together more and more. So much so that they're starting to trust each other enough to play a little rougher, which is a little unnerving. But it's a good thing.

Bacha, by the way, has tremendously good balance, and is physically very flexible. Tucker, in contrast, is always a bit wobbly, and stiff as a board. Fortunately, Tucker falls well. Bacha falls OK too, but is less happy about it. I've had good intentions of doing more stretching on my own, for myself, in the hopes that Tucker will follow suit. But I haven't been very good about it. Tucker sees stretching as a chore. It hurts him, and it's no fun. I really want to find to find a way to get him over that -- he really seems remarkably inflexible for someone his age. I'm more flexible than he is, fergoshsakes...