-Kazakhstan-

Kazakhstan

1-27-2008

I awoke at 8am………just in time to watch the majestically reddish-orange sun, rise from the edge of the sea. The vibrant sun made the black water and pale blue-sky glow in an absolutely beautiful way………I woke up at the perfect moment, and felt that it was a sign of more beauty and safe adventures to come during my future journey.

The boat stopped suddenly at around 1:30pm………..we were (an estimated) 10 miles from shore. I spent the day reading, studying, and mingling with the locals in the common area. The boat did not begin moving again until about 12:20am.


-Aktau-

The boat docked in the frozen (literally) port of Aktau Kazakhstan at around 1:00am. After a lot of waiting around…….I made it through customs at around 4am.

I caught a break, and ended up meeting an Azeri-Kazakh man (Vagiv) on the boat who was heading to the same city I was. My next destination was Oktobe……….a town about 900 miles North East of Aktau. Vagiv ( in his mid 40s) works in Oktobe, and was previously in Baku visiting his parents and brothers.

Aktau felt to me like a displaced chunk of Antarctica, the brutally cold winds made the weather absolutely painful. The Caspian Sea was partially frozen, with huge chunks of ice crashing swiftly through the white-capped waves. Baku seamed to be a tropical paradise compared to what lied ahead of me.

After bout 3.5 hours of sitting around the crowed customs waiting room, Vagiv and hopped into a shared taxi for the train station. It was about 8am,………and I was completely exhausted, having not slept a wink, my mind was both numb and disoriented. The dark icy roads to the train station cut across a flat, frozen, desolate land of oil pipes and electrical wires. Our driver drove like a crazed maniac through the deeply rutted icy roads, but my fear and anxiety about the situation was pleasantly numbed by my exhaustion.

After arriving at Aktau’s train station( about 5km outside of town) a quick inquiry produced the fact that the Oktobe train was not due to depart until 2:00pm. To say the least, I found this news to be both disappointing and irritating. I desperately wanted to lie down and sleep, however this option was not at all available to me.

Vagiv and I ate some breakfast and drank a few cups of coffee at a nearby cafÈ, while I tried to regain my composure and get a grasp on my surroundings. I was now in Asia……..surrounded by Asians with physical characteristics unlike any I was familiar with. The apartment blocks around the train station brought back memories of Eastern Europe, but the strangely dressed shepherds, locals with fur hats, and hostile police officers reminded me that I was in a very unfamiliar land.

Vagiv and I passed the time by taking a bus into town to check out a few soviet monuments, and by walking around the frozen seaside.

After buying our 4th class tickets for our 28-hour train journey to Oktobe; we boarded the train and immediately crashed out on adjacent second level green vinyl bench seats.

Even though I was exhausted, I found it quite challenging to sleep. I was on a train in Kazakhstan……and surrounded by the unknown. My mind’s curiosity and excitement for the strange hindered my body’s ability to gain much-needed R&R.

The train began to fill up with working class locals, selling all sorts of goods from broomsticks to horsemeat sausage. The train literally turned into a moving bizarre……it was like nothing I had ever seen before. There were a total of 6 bench seats in my open compartment; occupied by no less than 12 people at any given time. Some people were sleeping on the third level benches(made for luggage).…It was quite the experience!

The lands the train cut through were absolutely bare and desolate………brown dirt and grass fields, covered with patches of snow and ice was all I saw for hours and hours. Occasionally I would glance through the frosty windows to see large groups of roaming horses or double humped camels searching for grass on the plains near the rail line.

The Kazakh people have been great so far! They are wonderfully hospitable and emit contagious rays of genuine kindness. On the train everyone puts all the food they have on the table, and it becomes a sort of potluck meal. The Kazakhs speaks kindly to one another and share food and tea with each other as if they were family, or close friends. I have thankfully been absorbed into this culture with open arms; during my 28hr train journey between Aktau and Oktobe, I was constantly eating traditional Kazakh food, drinking tea, and speaking broken Russian to smiling locals. I can honestly say it was one of the most memorable, warm, and unique experiences I have ever had. After the ice was broken, I was paraded around the entire train like a celebrity, constantly being asked basic inquiries, and questioned extensively about life in the USA.

The downside of the journey was constantly being in close proximity and harassment range of the drunk Police officers on the train. I was shaken down about 5 times by several different cops during my journey, and each time had my documents thoroughly checked.

-Aktobe-

Vagiv and I arrived in Aktobe at around 5:30pm……the weather was about –20C…..and the ground thoroughly blanketed with snow. After a bit of confusion and communication difficulty…, I began to grasp the concept that Vagiv wanted me to come to his girlfriends pad for dinner.

We took a bus to the suburbs of Oktobe……..the neighborhood consisted of blocks of ‘A frame’ houses decorated with fancy trim, and German cottage like window shutters. Each block contained a water source usually surrounded with tires and rubber blankets, to protect the water pipes from the severe elements of winter.

At around 7pm Vagiv and I arrived at his girlfriends home, and were greeted warmly by Vagiv’s girlfriend, and her two roommates. Soon the Vodka and food came out, and within no time I was convinced to stay the night in their home……..I figured why not!

After a lot of food and Vodka, a few guys and gals showed up,….one being Vagivs brother. The men were already hammered, and seamed overly excited to consume even more food and Vodka. One guy became quite unpleasant as he incoherently berated me about President Bush, and how Mike Tyson is the answer to all of America’s problems. I hardly understood the guy, but he managed to say Mike Tyson about every other word. The company, including the obnoxious Mike Tyson lover left at around 11pm. Immediately after their departure, my hosts pleaded with me to forgive them for the obnoxious guys behavior.

More and more food and vodka was consumed……….and things got stranger and stranger. I requested a photo with Vagiv………and this spark led to all the women of the house going into the next room for 45 minutes to put on their best clothes and make up……. for the 2am photo op. After several series of drunken portraits were taken……..Vagivs girlfriend dressed up like a fortuneteller and came out of her room for more pictures. The night was a wicked combination of strange, and hilarious!

The next day Vagiv and I went to his brother’s apartment; he lived in a new apartment block in the heart of the city, and the kicker was that it had plumbing and central heating.

{Vagiv’s girfriend’s pad had no running water and a horribly disgusting outhouse out back………they did however have a make shift sit down toilet. If one wished; the wooden hole in the ground could be supplemented by a toilet seat. The seat was basically the square wooden shell of an old stereo receiver with a toilet seat nailed to the top…….it was a bit ridiculous…….but it worked.}

I was in desperate need of a shower…………after running 12+ miles, a 35-hour boat ride, a 28-hour train ride, and a couple sleepless nights, I was in much need of a shower! After showering, and hanging out at Vagiv’s Bro’s house all day(mostly watching old wedding videos in comfortable silence) we headed to a dinner party. I was the guest of honor, and was greeted warmly by a Siberian-Kazakh family; who happened to have a son who spoke a bit of English.

It was nice to get a few words of English out over a nice warm dinner. Speaking choppy poorly conjugated Russian gets a bit frustrating at times, but it has definitely forced me to pick up the language quicker.

The feast was wonderful, we ate traditional Kazakh food including a dish of beef and noodles, various salads, and thick slices of raw mackerel. The food, was of course washed down by periodic toasts with Russian vodka. The evening was very pleasant and enjoyable, the family’s son helped break the language barrier, and allow me to make a very thankful toast to my hosts and new friends.

The English-speaking son is actually heading to Oregon state this spring for a work-study program with an affiliated American university.

His best friend was also a guest at the table: He was as short, chubby, ethnically Kazakh guy who smiled a lot, but rarely spoke. He did however become the center of conversation when my hosts began to explain to me that he was currently saving up money for an Uzbek wife.

He is planning on going to Uzbekistan this following summer to buy a wife………..Apparently a good looking village girl can be acquired for marriage by a $2-3,000 donation to the brides father. Sounds like a good deal…………2-3K for a healthy Uzbek girl sounds like a steal(pun intended).

-Aralsk-

Here is where things got a bit out of hand………………

After a couple days in Aktobe, I took a 5pm train 11 hours south to Aralsk. Aralsk is a small former fishing town once on the Aral Sea.

{side note: The Aral Sea was once a large Sea occupied by both Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan,……….however Stalin decided to disregard the lucrative fishing industry the sea provided, and the livelihood of the people surrounding the sea, in favor of competing with America in the cotton trade. The Russians basically decided to cut off all the major water sources leading to the Aral Sea, in order to use irrigation to provide the above lands with enough water to quench the thirst of the newly created Kazakh cotton fields. The results of this Soviet induced strangling of the Aral Sea’s resources has dried up a major fishing industry, destroyed cities and communities, created several severe health problems for the people living around the former sea,……..and has shriveled the Aral Sea to a small fraction of its original size.}


The reason for my visit to Aralsk was to see first hand the environmental follies of the former Soviet Union. Aralsk had once boasted a booming fishing port, and processing plant……..but due to the man made environmental disaster, the town's main industry has been desolated, and the towns port and harbor have become nothing but a dry crater of decaying fishing boats.

I arrived in Aralsk at around 5am ( I lost another hour, I am currently 14 hours ahead of my former home in the USA) It was even colder in Aralsk than it had been in Oktobe……I was around –12F. I walked through the freezing darkness to the center of town…….which was no easy task. The roads were blocks of ice, and dimly lit only by the moon, and the occasional passing truck.

I managed to find my way to the hotel, an old run down soviet block with a large, red, crusty front door. After about 20 minutes of pounding on the door in the numbing darkness, an old woman came to the door and escorted me inside. She seemed to be annoyed with my presence, and to consider me an inconvenience…..she then demanded $25 dollars for a room in her cold empty hotel……….

Change of plans……..I walked back to the train station, and drank a couple cups of coffee as I pondered my next move. It was 7am, freezing cold, and the sun had not yet risen………but I did know that a train for Turkistan( my next destination) left at 9:30am.

I had not slept a wink on the train, and was now experiencing the increasingly familiar sensation and bodily affects of sleep depravation, and freezing weather. The train stations marble floors and concrete walls seemed to create a large icebox for it's occupants. The inside windows were covered with a half-inch of frost……..and the floor with patches of ice.

While quietly waiting in the small train station cafe, I was befriended by a couple old Kazakh men………(an increasingly common occurrence), after simple introductions, and about an hour of mostly understandable small talk (my Russian is coming along!), the old guys convinced me that vodka would stop my shivering and warm me up.

At this point I was violently shivering and lacking all common sense due to exhaustion. I accepted their proposal…it was 7:30am. We headed to a nearby hole in the wall cafe, where we each gave the women behind the counter a few coins in exchange for coffee mugs half filled with Vodka. After a simple toast to international friendship………we tipped the glasses back……..down in one!

The old guy next to me rubbed my back and arms for about 5 minutes in order to help put an end to my shivering………the old man's massage, mixed with a quick 4 ounce shot of vodka, seamed to do the trick. I was comfortably numb……..mind and body.

We conversed for the next hour or so……I can’t honestly say I understood most of it. I became somewhat coherent again when the old guy sitting across from me started telling me that he had been to outer space. Wow I thought! I know that less than 100KM away was the Russian Baykonur Cosmodrome that launched the first man into space in 1961……….I became all ears to the drunken old man when he started telling me that he had special clearance, and that he could easily show me around the place. Sure I thought, what an incredible experience that would be………{This place is still actively leased by the Russians and still in use}

The plan was first to go to the bank, and sort out some documents, and then we would head to the cosmodrome. It was about 9am……..and the sun coming up as we walked through the glacier like roads to the bank. My initial excitement about the situation began to fade, as my common sense came flooding back to me. I was cold, half-drunk, and sleep deprived……..and actually considering hanging out with some old dude I could barely understand.. I began to rationalize the situation…………should I turn around and head for the train station, or ride this one out and see what happens……..being a complete idiot I chose the latter.

I became increasingly suspicious of my new friend while we were at the bank; everyone seemed to look at him funny, and not take his words seriously……….was this guy the town nut-job? Was this guy really an astronaut? Is it possible for me to sneak out of the bank with out the old guy seeing me?

We left the bank at around 9:35am……………my window of escape had closed, I had missed my train. As we walked down the road from the bank, the rising sun glistened off the snow burning my eyes, and increasing my physical exhaustion.

While we were walking down the road the old man would yell things at people that we were passing by……..and each time the people simply ignored the guy. I don’t know if he was asking them for the time, or yelling obscenities…..but I do know that this guy was definitely the town crazy guy. And I was stuck hanging with him until I could come up with an escape route. I figured simply running away……..would be a bit awkward.

We arrived at his house at about 10am………….he lived in a small concrete 4-walled shack about a half-mile back behind the train station. The house contained a small brick stove/oven in the corner, and a large central carpet containing a floor table surrounded by traditionally decorated pillows. The mans wife was an old weathered looking women wearing traditional Kazakh clothes, who was busy stocking the stove with twigs, and did not seam to even notice my presence. After taking a piss in the outhouse behind the shack I went inside and immediately crashed on one of the pillows near the table.

I woke up at about 12:30pm,……..the guy told me he needed to go back to the bank and to wait for him in the house and drink tea. Sure I said, no problem…………..he then demanded that I give him 2 dollars for the cab ride……….I would have given him $10 to get him out of the house to secure my window of escape. About 10 minutes after the old crazy guy left, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. The old women became an obstacle, she insisted that I stay and drink tea, and that her husband had instructed her to have me stay there………..I dodged the old lady by telling her I was heading to the train station to buy a ticket, and that I would be back in 20 minutes……………….and just like that I was out!

So now, as I write about this situation and ponder the events of that strange and eventful morning; I find myself wondering how the hell I could have possibly been convinced that an old crazy guy hanging out at a train station at 5am in Kazakhstan,….. was an astronaut. I blame it on sleep depravation, cold weather, disorientation, and booze!

The sun was shining and I had escaped my crazy old friend, I was happy and full of energy as I wandered around the dry, snow filled crater of the former seaport. It was fascinating, and almost beautiful to see these large rusty fishing boats in a pit of snow and ice, and well over 20 miles from the Aral Sea.

Later in the afternoon, I was able to find a local NGO that hooked me up with a home stay. After a quick introduction and a hearty meal of bread and potatoes, I went on a walk around the town, and explored the local bazaar.

-Turkistan-

Another ridiculously crazy morning in Kazakhstan…………………………..

I woke up at 3:55am, gathered my things and headed out the door down the dark icy streets toward the train station. The weather was so cold, it made my face hurt, it made the muscles around my eyes tighten, and gave me a painful headache.
As I approached the train station a train quickly appeared out of the shadows and dim lighting. My train was not do to arrive until 5am…….and it was only 4:30am, but I felt it be prudent if I inquire about the current train. As I approached the tracks a scruffy old man waved me over to the door he was hanging out of, and asked me where I was heading……..I replied Turkistan. He then eagerly signaled me to come aboard. I was a bit confused, but stepped onto the train anyways…….I showed him my ticket and asked him if he was sure that I was on the right train, he nodded yes, and just then the train took off…………..and sealed the fate of the disastrous morning ahead.

About 2 minutes after the train departed, the guy told me that the train was number 60………and that I needed to go to section 2 of the train( I was in section 7)……..I began to feel a bit uneasy when I realized that my ticket said train 30……..panic began to slowly infiltrate my veins.

It was a bit challenging getting to the second section of the train,……..the lights in the entire train were out, most of the doors were frozen shut, and my bag was a bit too bulky to fit easily through the hallways………….after about 20 minutes of stubborn doors, and almost crawling through train segments I had arrived in section 2.

My body was tight and nervous when I handed the conductor my ticket………..after briefly glancing at my ticket, he pointed out that I was definitely on the wrong train. I was not on the Atyrau-Almaty train but rather the Moscow-Tashkent(Uzbekistan) train!

I panicked……( I literally had a panic attack)………….I was tired, it was dark, cold, I had less than $5 of local currency in my pocket, and I was on the wrong train at 5am in Kazakhstan!!!!!!!!

I had no idea what to do, I was freaking out. I stepped outside of the train conductor’s office, and began to quietly voice profanities to myself in absolute horror and despair! I stood in shock and fear for about 40 minutes before I gained enough composure to get a grasp on the situation. What were my options………..buying a ticket was not an option……….It is dark and cold outside…….so jumping off the train was definitely not an option……….the only logical option was to simply slip off the train at the next stop and avoid paying the fair.. So I stood in the hallway and prayed to the gods that the train would stop soon, and that all would be OK.

After about an hour and a half of awkward silence in the train’s hallway………the train came to a halt. I quickly yanked the frozen door open and exited the train with lightning speed. I made my way to the station…………and to my surprise found that my train( #30) was do to arrive in an hour. It is indescribable the amount of joy and relieve I felt at this particular moment………..I was in the middle of nowhere, in the freezing darkness…….and was given pocket aces! It was now 7am…………and I was now cold, and tired, but full of confidence and overwhelming relief.

At 7:55am a train pulled up………train #36…………not my train! I had officially learned my lesson. At 8:00am another train pulled up, but on the second track………..the fact is that these trains stop for about 5 minutes tops. So basically if train #36 did not get out of the way soon………….I was in trouble. Everyone around me felt the same sort of desperation, which resulted in some risky behavior. The doors of the first train closed……and as train number #36 began to prepare for departure, a crowd of locals flooded underneath(literally) the train to train #30 on the second track………..in a split second decision I followed suit and threw my bag on the ground and crawled under the train and dragging my bag to the other side (maybe 2-2.5ft clearnace)…………wow, that was scary! But I was able to catch my train, and another potential disaster was avoided.

I woke up at around 1:00pm……….by the local cops who wanted to search me and check my documents. I grabbed my bag and headed to their small train compartment. Two chubby, drunk cops greeted me at the door and told me to put my bag down and empty my pockets. After frisking me he found that I had one pocket of local currency and a money belt under my shirt. The cop demanded that I put the cash and the money belt on the table…………I was beaming with confidence at this point, and had dealt with enough of these crooked cops by this point to see through the bullshit. I stared at him fiercely and told him he can look, but he is not to touch my money or my money belt(this is all of course in Russian). He looked at me shocked……….who was I to question his authority……….he then thumbed through my money belt and picked up a couple euro coins from the bottom. He then looked at me with gentle eyes and said “ for me”…………..at this point I had enough, I angrily took the coins from his grasp, and told him we were finished. I said that “ you saw my passport, and my visa” and searched my bag……….I am going back to my seat………………he looked at me angrily for a few seconds, but then released me with a mischievous smile.

The rest of the train ride was great, I was hanging with a crew of guys in their 20s and 30s……..and became part of the gang immediately. We shared food, and spoke about the similarities and differences of Kazakhstan and America. I also once again avoided the Borat question……..I always tell the locals that Borat was a movie made by an Englishmen, and that I had never scene it nor do I condone the contents of the film. Which were really quite insulting and unfair to the Kazakh nationals.

Toward the end of the trip the guys in my cabin offered me what looked like pellets of rat shit. They signaled me to put it under my lip and presented me a cup to spit in. Kazakh chew………….why not! After putting the strange and pungent smelling pellets between my lip and my gums…….. I immediately began to feel its effects. My face began to go numb starting with my lip and chin…………my body felt light, and it felt like I was being gently massaged by a cool breeze………….my brain began to tingle………….at this point I spit the stuff out, the stuff was ridiculously strong………a bit to potent for my taste. I soon after arrived in Turkistan………..but not before being presented with a 3-ounce bag of the mystery pellets as a gift from my new friends.

I later found out that the stuff was Nasvai: basically finely cut tobacco cut with spices ash or lime, and often laced with opium. Well……………yeah………that kind of explains its frighteningly strong effects.

I arrived in Turkistan at around 8:00pm and immediately hopped on a minibus for the town’s center. The weather was cold, but not near as cold as it was in Aralsk or Aktobe. After about an hour-long hotel search, I had failed to find any budget options. The cheapest hotel I could find was $15 a night………..which would not cut it for me. I have become ridiculously tight with my cash, but that is the only way I will be able to make this trip last, so I suppose the ends justify the means.

While cold and confused and wandering around the dark streets of Turkistan I was offered assistance by a crew of university kids. After explaining my situation, and inquiring about budget hotel options in the city………..they smiled and signaled me to follow them. About 30 minutes later we had arrived at their dormitory………my home for the next couple days. We spoke only Russian(the guys did not speak a word of English)……..and got along wonderfully. They were filled with kindness and spoke the language of peace and international friendship.

The next couple days were filled with comradery, kindness, friendship, confusion, understanding, more confusion, sightseeing, tea drinking, and unrivaled hospitality.

I will not go into more details……….because this blog is running a bit long, and must seem a bit dry to read by now…………..but I will just say that my time in Turkistan was wonderful. The historical sights ( mainly the beautiful Mausoleum) were fantastic, and my crew of university students were a blast to hang out with.

I am currently hanging with a PCV in Turkistan (i met him at the internet cafe)………we are heading to Shymkent tomorrow to hang out with a crew of PCVs there. After Shymkent I will be heading to Tashkent Uzbekistan. Kazakhstan has been a quite interesting and intriguing experience………….to say the least.

That is all for now…………..I am quite safe…………., and having an adventure of a lifetime, I miss you all, and will see you soon……….I am thinking I will return sometime this summer…………but for now I have a lot of ground to cover.

Trevor

On the ship to Kazakhstan:




Aktau Kazakhstan, with Vagiv:


Oktobe
Vagiv’s Girfriend and roommates:


Dinner party in Oktobe:

Hangin with the guys in Oktobe:


On the train to Turkmenistan:


Aralsk:

Bazaar in Aralsk:

My crazy old friend(on left) and my morning vodka brother


Arlask’s former harbor:



Turkistan Bazaar:



My College kid crew in Turkistan:



At the dorm, eating a traditional dish(horse meat, and noodles)……..and wearing my new hat.