Week 4 - Mountains and Cafes
So I'm lagging behind my blog updates.
It's already almost end of week 5 and I've yet to write up my blog post for week 4, although I do have a good reason: it's been a fairly busy week and I've got on a number of excursions, including one week-end trip with the RLASP squad, where we spend three days in a small Kazakh village far, far away from Almaty (this will be included in the next update!). On these excursions I took a plethora of picture and I have a lot of cool content to share with you all, so be ready to hold onto your seat for this week's (last weeks*) update of my Kazakh summer adventure!
Also, my Russian tutor from the academic year in Portland, Anna Novikova asked me to write a little about her. She is offering tutoring lessons for those who would like to learn or improve their Russian language skills, from any skill range. She is very experienced and charismatic - a person who is well apt to discuss topics from Russian formalities to slang the transformation of the language throughout the years. Not only is she an amazing tutor, but she is also very caring and has a great personality, a person who is not afraid to speak bluntly and honestly about the situation of things, and is willing to discuss any topic you are interested in. If you would like to contact her, she available from [this link here].
Saturday:
- After the crazy Friday packed with an excursion and night out with the gang, it was time to put on our big boy pants and get down to business. In other words that actually have some semblance of meaning, we decided to meet back up at the Dostyk plaza mall and do our homework. I took this time to write up my blog update from (already) two weeks ago and tolerated a drink from the nearby Starbucks. For some reason, finding this Starbucks was the ultimate task for me because I spent an embarrassingly large amount of time floundering around the three story mall, making multiple passes throughout each floor before finding the Starbucks, which was not at all far away from the cafe in which we decided to study.
Imagine a small, nearly empty hole in the wall cafe in a large mall. Now imagine a group a 5 Americans sitting in the corner of this cafe, smooshed into two tables with homework, backpacks squeezing to find space on the tables. That's our group: the Americans (tm). We work for a couple of hours until it's about time, according to our stomachs, to eat lunch.
- The restaurant we decided to stop at was not located in the mall. It was a ramen shop named "Ramen Lab," which was about a 5 minute walk to the east of the mall, located in a large pavilion near the bus stop I always get off on when I decide to visit this side of the city. The tables in this restaurant were like televisions comprised of many smaller televisions - broadcasting various discreet Japanese shows. In the course of 30 seconds, you could look around the table and get your lifetime's worth fill of anime, japanese variety shows, karate, and sumo wrestling. Additionally, I recognized some Korean girl group music videos that don't really fit under the category 'Japan,' but we'll let it slide.
At the Ramen Lab, we all ordered, obviously, ramen. Except for me. I ordered a tari karaage, for the sake of comparison with a food cart from Portland that I frequent. For the people in Portland, it's that red food cart adjacent to the engineering and fourth avenue building named Krua Bangkok, from which you can order a ridiculously large amount of thai tea. If you are a student from Portland who likes thai tea and you do not know what I am talking about, then you are seriously missing out!
While waiting for the food to suddenly appear in front of us from Japan itself, we spoke about dreams. As I have previously mentioned, I tend to have very strange, baffling dreams whenever I move to a new area. Spencer shared his experience of dreams in Kazakhstan, including a samurai dual that he watched outside of his apartment. Our conversation took us to Monika speaking to the bad-assery of her Polish grandmother and her travels with smuggling horse meat and pretending to go into labor to avoid inspection. What an interesting turn of events!
The food came out and I was sufficiently unsurprising: the food was especially mediocre and my dish did not compare in any way to the foot cart in Portland. Welp. I know where i'm going to when I return to Portland! Finishing my dish, my abyss of a stomach was not satiated, so I finished off Janna's ramen leftover, which she herself could not finish. The ramen it self was also very mediocre and I will not return to this restaurant. There are just to many other options to limit myself to blandness!
- Upon returning to the mall, our group split up. Me and Spencer and I with Spencer continued to work in the cafe, while Janna and Monika went to look around a bit and window shop. Our little (truthfully, reasonably large) Canadian returned to his dwelling (home) and Jesse decided to hold a free concert at the nearby electronics store. Apparently a small 7 year old Kazakh child came to join him as a guest artist, but the poor boy struggled to hold both rhythm and melody to properly accompany the Great Justin.
On my way back home, I study and go over the words that we were given in our grammar class. It's actually a great system: our teacher goes over words in the text we are reading that generally cause problems for foreigners learning Russian, and then for each word she provides a list of synonyms. Our task is to memorize the words and synonyms both ways, so we call freely recall the word in text if given a synonym, and vice versa. My bus ride is generally 30-45 minutes long, so I can stand around in the trolleybus and quiz myself on the vocab words, talking to myself like a completely sane and normal person would. :)
Sunday:
- Due to the fact that Friday's Talgarski pass (талгарский перевал) excursion was unexpectedly cancelled, the gang decided to have our own little excursion to Talgarski pass. I wake up at 5:00AM and after despising my existence for being awake again at such an ungodly time, I prepare myself for the journey and depart to the bus stop across from hotel Kazakhstan to meet up with Monika, Justin, Janna, and Spencer. The Canada decided to stay home this time.
- We shortly board the bus towards Medeu and get off at the appropriate stop for the cable cars. It was very early in the morning, but, nevertheless, there was already a long, winding line leading up to the cable car. We grabbed our free (at the time, until 9AM) tickets and slugged our way to the line. About thirty minutes into the breathtakingly wonderful queue escapade, Taisiya (a very sweet tour guide with the RLASP program) spots us and congratulates us for the idea of coming to the pass.
We continue to wait in line and talk about fraternities, including the stereotypes an negative image often associated with fraternities. Spencer, who is from a fraternity, served as the spokesperson for all fraternities ever and shared some interesting stories regarding his local chapter. Nearing the cable car entrance, we see a television on which played various advertisements. One of these advertisements regarded the world cup in Moscow and consisted of various clips from different sports; soccer, tennis, basketball, volleyball, in which the ball was replaced with a soccer ball. In one clip two women contested against each other in a heated game of tennis and upon winning, one girl immediately raises her shirt and displays her training bra, which included the logo of some company. This took me and Spencer by surprise because we wouldn't expect such an action to happen from a woman in a professional tournament upon being declared winner, but I guess life doesn't play by our rules.
Due to the nature of the cable car and balancing weight, our group had to be separated in half when we actually got to board the cars. Monika, Spencer, and Jessie were placed into a cable car behind me and Janna, who were seated with two Russian men. Along the way up to the first stop, me and Janna converse with these Russian men and learn that they are from Moscow and St. Petersburg, and we discuss visa politics between Russia and America as well as the world cup. About halfway through the trip, we see on the group that someone wrote a message on the ground in snow: "Jessica (I forgot the name that was written, but let's go with Jessica), thanks for the daughter". What a lovely message, which I am sure was written with love and deep care!
Eventually we make it to the top and part ways with the Russian men. Me and Janna and I and Janna wait for the rest of our group to catch up and begin to explore the little rest stop before continuing up the mountain through the next cable car journey. This stop had a break taking view of the city and the temperature was already noticeably lower than in the center. Restaurants filled the area and there happened to be some kind of event going on. We watch as an MC yells at a group of Kazakh men doing push ups. Monika and Jesse, crossfit addicts, immediately want to jump in on this action and wait for the next competition to show off their large, bulging, push-up muscles. They scoff at the meager 35 push ups that the winner of this competition completed and eagerly jump in on the following competition. Ready to get into push up position and blow everyone away, they are surprised with a different set of rules: rather than a push up competition, they actually signed up to participate in a dance competition. In front of a large group of people in public, being broadcaster to television. This is a perfect opportunity for my camera! They dance to Michael Jackson's "Beat it" and are throughout ashamed by the task they have to do, but Jesse and Monika make it through the first stage of the competition and end up winning gift cards to a resort. After listening to the next presentation, which was a group of Kazakhs singing some popular Russian songs, we decided that it was high time to move along, and get on to the next set of cable cars. This time, we were able to fit our group together into one car.
We make it to the next stopping point, which was just an empty platform with yet another great view of the city. We continue onto the next set of cable cars, leading to the last stop.
We reach the top and boy is the sight amazing! I'm starting to notice a trend. We look around for a restroom/toilet/washroom/whatever and can't find it. Located right next to the cable car platform is a bar with absolutely nothing for us in it, and a little further down the mountain to the west was a couple of yurts along with a small cafe hugging the edge of the mountaintop.
We each get our coffee fix from this cafe and in accordance with the advise of the barista from this cafe, we head upwards into the mountains to the East rather than continuing to the West in order to find a restroom, because there is apparently less of a wait time. We continued onward through our hike and take pictures along a large rock and some snow. Along our path we were stopped by some military looking guys at a table, who demanded that we signed and recorded our information on a paper, in the event that we get lost or injured during the hike and do not return. Walking further along, we couldn't find the restroom and the hike started to lead to a steeper trail, for which Monika and Janna were not prepared, as their shoes didn't allow for climbing mountains without slipping. We take some more pictures and goof around as a group of Americans do and then proceed to head back home, Monika taking along with her a small frozen olaf snowman.
I am disgusted by the littering and take out my conveniently stored plastic bag from a convenience store and begin to collect various litter from off the ground as we return to the cable cars. While walking back we sing disney tunes and catch up to a woman who is singing 'под московские вечера,' so we join along. As we finish the tune, we chat with the woman before parting ways. The line to the cable car stretched far far back and we were all unbelievably delighted and pleased to have to wait another half hour in a line. In front of us was a man with a medal around his neck. I'm guessing he won the race that was apparently going on through the mountain. Coolio.
We eventually make it back to the first platform stop, where the concert was continuing along. We got lunch at one of the restaurant and -finally- got the opportunity to use the restroom. I ordered a simple sandwich of delight, whatever that means, and my friends got pasta. Janna and Monika praised the mohito they purchased, commenting on how fresh it was in comparison to the mohitos in America, which are often made with syrups.
After a long journey, we are all ready to make it back home and get back to the bus stop.
Wow.
There is a LOT of people at this bus stop.
When the bus actually does arrive, it is already overfilled with people and somehow, 2/3rds of the people waiting at the stop jam their bodies into the gross, hot, sad, rolling metal jail house and the rest of us are forced to wait for the next bus, which would take close to another 40 minutes to hour of waiting. Monika orders a yandi taxi, which arrives in 2 minutes. However, there is not enough room to fit all of us in the taxi and Monika insists on us all going in to the taxi together which she waits, because she is a pure soul who doesn't want anyone left behind, even though her phone was dying and she would be forced to take the next bus alone. What a girl, what a savior!
The taxi takes us to the wrong address, but we eventually make our way to the Dostyk plaza mall and go our separate ways. I go to the Starbucks and finish up some homework that I didn't get to work on Saturday. After about an hour and a half, I finish up my work and while on my way out of the mall, I notice none other than Jesse and Monika at the small hole in the wall cafe next to galmart! I talk to Monika and she tells me about the ridiculous situation she had coming back. Unsurprisingly, the next bus was just as jam packed as the previous one, but Monika was determined to make it into this bus. She shoves her body into the terrible oven of death and is squished into a pole. She recalls that along the way back, an Onay official boards the bus and somehow checks the passengers of the bus to ensure that everyone paid for their ticket. Upon seeing Monika's peculiar positioning, the official laughs and manages to check her bus card as well.
- On my way back home, I get to sit down. Woohoo! I study my words some more and after about 4 or 5 stops, I notice a strange sight: a person boards the bus, but he sticks out like a sore thumb. First of all, he looks around the bus and seems to not know what to do. He goes up all the way to the front of the bus and messes around with the card reader for the bus ticket a bit before talking to the bus conductor. He takes out some money and pays the conductor and then stands right in front of the door. These are all, to me, obvious signs of a foreigner! At the next stop, the doors open and this passenger nearly falls out of the bus from the suddenly opening doors. I think to myself, "is this what I looked like four weeks ago when I tried to ride a bus on my own for the first time?" and revel in the fact that I am leagues above him in terms of bus etiquette. Finally, I am not the one to stick out like a sore thumb in my host country!
- When I get home, and try to sleep, a baby senses my presence and laughs at my pitiful attempt to rest up from a long day. It cries out loudly and screams, denying me from sleeping. A little bit later on, I start to hear grown people yelling and clapping, chanting about Russia. I guess there was some soccer game going and Russia made a goal. My goal, in contrast, was to get some shut eye. I look out of my window in scorn and notice that the light shinning through my window from the street light collided with the potted plant sitting on the windowsill and the shadow depicted a small dinosaur. Under the protection of this brave dinosaur shadow, I fell asleep.
Monday:
- Today I decided to exchange some money. Me, Justin, and Monika rush over to a bank and exchange money. Yay. The bank had air conditioning, so славо богу. On the way back from the bank, we stop by a small store and get some samsa. I wanted to try some wigurian samsas, but they ran out, so I ordered some other samsas and fumbled around trying to get the correct payment. Getting change in front of a cashier in Kazakhstan is such an external struggle because they always want you go give them the appropriate amount of money such that change can be simplified to bills rather than a mixture of bills and coins, which is something that I can understand. However, it's always stressful when the cashier and line of other customers waiting to purchase stuff stare at you as you fumble around for the 40 tenge in your small man sling bag. I was very confused by the process of paying, which should have been mind-numbing simple, yet I still managed to somehow make a fool out of myself and rushed away with my disgusting bill-and-coin change in hand.
- I eat my samsas along the way to the Mega Park mall, to work on homework at the starbucks. I awkwardly fumble around trying to order an iced coffee with vanilla and the barista suggests an iced americano with a pump of vanilla, which wan't half bad. The vanilla pump more or less masked the taste of burnt espresso and I didn't feel complete disappointment! I sit down and begin to work on my home assignments, and the lights in the mall frequently turn off and on for no apparent reason. I'm more or less okay with this, save for the fact that the power turning off also means that the internet gets turned off and is all wacky upon turning back on.
I work and work and a group of kazakh men next to me are speaking very loudly and having a good ol' time in this small cafe. When they are ready to depart, one knocks over my laptop and creates a huge scene, as the laptop loudly slams to the ground with a bang. He quickly picks the poor laptop of the ground and continues on his way, without even saying sorry to me. What a dick. That just ruined my mood, but I'm not a person that likes conflict, especially in a foreign country, so I passive-aggressively glare at the back of his head as he walks out of the cafe. I continue to work as if nothing happens, and nobody pays any attention to this insulting behavior, so I just sit and do homework, experiencing some kind of shock - maybe it's culture shock or maybe that guy is just really a huge asshole and I'm shaken by his rude behavior.
I get home and my aunt made some food. I try to explain my shock, but I can't seem to get my point across to my family, so I just sit in disappointed silence and quickly finish my dinner, not wanting to interact any further. I compliment my aunt's cooking and revel in the silence of the apartment as my host family drive my aunt back to her house. During this time, I do my laundry by my self for the first time and guess at what is laundry detergent: the case is written in German so I'm truly just guessing at either detergent or some sort of weird cleaning thing. It smells like fabric softener and is in a powdery form, so I'll just assume that it works for my cause. What's the worst that can happen?
Tuesday:
- After class, I follow Noah, Jessie, and Rebecca to get lunch at Giginova - the Georgian restaurant from which I tried that delicious khachapuri. They had a their weekly test today and were not too pleased with the results, so I obediently listened to them, ready to catch all of the tea they were about to spill. We order the 'biznis lanch' and I listen to them talk about their courses. They have different teachers and, of course, different courses and workloads. Each day, they must do a presentation about some topic and each week they have a test. This contrasts from my group, being that we have only had 1 test as of yet and 2 essays to write in class. I feel sorry for the amount of work they have to do compared to us, but only through hard work can one make progress, so I guess it's not all that bad!
- I return to the Starbucks because it's a comfortable place for me to study. I order a flat white and it is revolting. Also, the internet doesn't work. Great! :D
- When I return home, I talk to Assel about what happened yesterday and express my complete discontent with what happened. She was surprised by the occurrence and sympathized with my feelings, assuring me that it was not a usual manner and empathizing with me. This is the huge plus of having a host family with which you can talk to: they can help you through rough times and encourage you, even when experiencing discomfort or culture shock. We eat dinner and I continue to do some laundry while watching the news. I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that in the corner of the news broadcast there was a woman translating everything said into sign language. I wonder, is that sign language a Kazakh or Russian variant of sign language? Nevertheless, it is very empowering in a way to see the inclusivity of Kazakh news, where subtitles are not always offered and are, as a rule, about 30 seconds to a minute lagging behind what is actually going on in the screen.
Wednesday:
- Today it was super hot in class and I had extreme difficulty focusing. I yearn for air conditioning!
- After two days of Starbucks in a row, I decided I should expand my internal map of Almaty and search for some other cafes away from my usual go-tos. I looked around a bit on 2GIs and found a handful of cafes cluttered near the Georgian restaurant, Giginova. I head over to the closest one and discover that it's the very same restaurant that I went to with Janna that one time, where I had trouble focusing on my work and felt a pull towards sleep. I decided to go to the second nearest cafe and stumbled upon a cafe at an intersection named Coffeedelia. This cafe has a stage and appears to host musicians sometimes. The menu is a bit pricey in terms of Kazakh cafes (cheap in terms of American cafes) with a plate of pasta and coffee costing a whopping 6 dollars! The audacity! I find a small nook in the corner with a nice view of the outside and work on my homework. I look outside and it seems that all hell is breaking loose, such that it is very windy and raining. Cool!
- Returning home, I stop by the Mango mall and decide to finally get a haircut. I awkwardly walk in and request a 'shortening of hair, as my hair is currently long and I want it to become shorter.' The man, likely Turkish, asks me in poor Russian (in this neighborhood, people primarily speak in Kazakh) if I have a picture of what I want. I say yes and start to search through all of my pictures on my phone, and he shows me some pictures on his phone from a google search of male hairstyles. We agree on a style and I am immediately sat onto a stool and a cape is attached around my neck. Honestly, I can work with whatever style I am given, so long as my hair is just shorter.
We conserve a little bit, which is just speaking to me in Kazakh and me responding in English, trying to guess what he is asking me, but I feel a connection - the people at this hair salon are friendly and help me, rather than look at me like I'm an idiot who doesn't know what he wants. After a bit, I am given a proper haircut (MUCH better than in Portland) and I am ready to pay and leave. However, the stylist orders me to stay in my seat and cleans up the hair from the area. He then proceeds to shampoo my head and wash it off. I guess that this would be a pricey salon due to the extra service, that you would usually not get from a salon in Portland (at least, the cheapest ones I've been to). I ask for the cost and brace myself - about $4.50. WHAT? In Portland, the cheapest haircut I can get is around 10-15$ and they can run up to even 30$ for just a simple cut and nothing fancy! What a steal!
Thursday:
- Today during grammar class, a sudden downpour began, yet we continued to study on like the dedicated group of stuents we are. After half an hour or so, the sun came back out and it is unbearably humid and hot, even attempting to focus in class is a joke. Keeping in mind that I was almost done with classes for the week, I pushed on through the conditions and survived through classes.
- Me, Miranda, and Brenden gather at this Anchor restaurant for lunch. I order a pasta that resembles alfredo, but the sauce tasted watered down and not worth the price. The atmosphere, on the other hand, was top notch and sailed over the competition: there was even a monster in diving gear to greet us! We talked about culture in Russia versus Kazakhstan and our experiences with our host families and locals.
- After lunch, me and Brenden head the same way towards the green bazar, located to the east of the restaurant in which we ate. Brenden was going home, and my goal was to find a rain poncho to keep myself dry during hikes in the event of rain. On way to bazar, I find a Korean shop and find the legendary fire noodles, which I wanted to challenge my friends and family to. I purchase two packages of this as well as a set of Korean chopsticks and spoon specifically for this challenge. I can't wait to see just how much spice my family and colleagues can take!
- By the time I reach the green bazar, it is already about to close, so I decide to give up on the search for the rain poncho and settle myself at a nearby Starbucks. In line I hear the cashier explaining to a customer what matcha is and my ears perk up. I decide to order a classical iced green tea late - one of the staples that is perfect for when you want something to wake you up a bit but not put you on edge with the coffee jitters.
Unsurprisingly, it was absolutely disgusting and very bitter. It was a drink, though, so I continued to drink it and work on my homework. I hear a person ordering a drink through my headphones, and it is not in Russian, but rather in loud English with a slight, but noticeable accent. I wonder where they are from, but don't bother to turn my head 180 degrees to take a peek.
- Returning back home, I stop by my local grocery store to see if they by change carry a rain poncho. The answer is no. My local pharmacy also does not carry a rain poncho. Oh well, at least I have the small umbrella that Assel lent to me!
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I will break my update into two parts with this parts ending here -- Next week's update will come tomorrow and will detail my long weekend trip, filled with many adventures in a Russian village!
Until next time,
- Namu
It's already almost end of week 5 and I've yet to write up my blog post for week 4, although I do have a good reason: it's been a fairly busy week and I've got on a number of excursions, including one week-end trip with the RLASP squad, where we spend three days in a small Kazakh village far, far away from Almaty (this will be included in the next update!). On these excursions I took a plethora of picture and I have a lot of cool content to share with you all, so be ready to hold onto your seat for this week's (last weeks*) update of my Kazakh summer adventure!
Also, my Russian tutor from the academic year in Portland, Anna Novikova asked me to write a little about her. She is offering tutoring lessons for those who would like to learn or improve their Russian language skills, from any skill range. She is very experienced and charismatic - a person who is well apt to discuss topics from Russian formalities to slang the transformation of the language throughout the years. Not only is she an amazing tutor, but she is also very caring and has a great personality, a person who is not afraid to speak bluntly and honestly about the situation of things, and is willing to discuss any topic you are interested in. If you would like to contact her, she available from [this link here].
Saturday:
- After the crazy Friday packed with an excursion and night out with the gang, it was time to put on our big boy pants and get down to business. In other words that actually have some semblance of meaning, we decided to meet back up at the Dostyk plaza mall and do our homework. I took this time to write up my blog update from (already) two weeks ago and tolerated a drink from the nearby Starbucks. For some reason, finding this Starbucks was the ultimate task for me because I spent an embarrassingly large amount of time floundering around the three story mall, making multiple passes throughout each floor before finding the Starbucks, which was not at all far away from the cafe in which we decided to study.
Imagine a small, nearly empty hole in the wall cafe in a large mall. Now imagine a group a 5 Americans sitting in the corner of this cafe, smooshed into two tables with homework, backpacks squeezing to find space on the tables. That's our group: the Americans (tm). We work for a couple of hours until it's about time, according to our stomachs, to eat lunch.
- The restaurant we decided to stop at was not located in the mall. It was a ramen shop named "Ramen Lab," which was about a 5 minute walk to the east of the mall, located in a large pavilion near the bus stop I always get off on when I decide to visit this side of the city. The tables in this restaurant were like televisions comprised of many smaller televisions - broadcasting various discreet Japanese shows. In the course of 30 seconds, you could look around the table and get your lifetime's worth fill of anime, japanese variety shows, karate, and sumo wrestling. Additionally, I recognized some Korean girl group music videos that don't really fit under the category 'Japan,' but we'll let it slide.
At the Ramen Lab, we all ordered, obviously, ramen. Except for me. I ordered a tari karaage, for the sake of comparison with a food cart from Portland that I frequent. For the people in Portland, it's that red food cart adjacent to the engineering and fourth avenue building named Krua Bangkok, from which you can order a ridiculously large amount of thai tea. If you are a student from Portland who likes thai tea and you do not know what I am talking about, then you are seriously missing out!
While waiting for the food to suddenly appear in front of us from Japan itself, we spoke about dreams. As I have previously mentioned, I tend to have very strange, baffling dreams whenever I move to a new area. Spencer shared his experience of dreams in Kazakhstan, including a samurai dual that he watched outside of his apartment. Our conversation took us to Monika speaking to the bad-assery of her Polish grandmother and her travels with smuggling horse meat and pretending to go into labor to avoid inspection. What an interesting turn of events!
The food came out and I was sufficiently unsurprising: the food was especially mediocre and my dish did not compare in any way to the foot cart in Portland. Welp. I know where i'm going to when I return to Portland! Finishing my dish, my abyss of a stomach was not satiated, so I finished off Janna's ramen leftover, which she herself could not finish. The ramen it self was also very mediocre and I will not return to this restaurant. There are just to many other options to limit myself to blandness!
- Upon returning to the mall, our group split up. Me and Spencer and I with Spencer continued to work in the cafe, while Janna and Monika went to look around a bit and window shop. Our little (truthfully, reasonably large) Canadian returned to his dwelling (home) and Jesse decided to hold a free concert at the nearby electronics store. Apparently a small 7 year old Kazakh child came to join him as a guest artist, but the poor boy struggled to hold both rhythm and melody to properly accompany the Great Justin.
On my way back home, I study and go over the words that we were given in our grammar class. It's actually a great system: our teacher goes over words in the text we are reading that generally cause problems for foreigners learning Russian, and then for each word she provides a list of synonyms. Our task is to memorize the words and synonyms both ways, so we call freely recall the word in text if given a synonym, and vice versa. My bus ride is generally 30-45 minutes long, so I can stand around in the trolleybus and quiz myself on the vocab words, talking to myself like a completely sane and normal person would. :)
Sunday:
- Due to the fact that Friday's Talgarski pass (талгарский перевал) excursion was unexpectedly cancelled, the gang decided to have our own little excursion to Talgarski pass. I wake up at 5:00AM and after despising my existence for being awake again at such an ungodly time, I prepare myself for the journey and depart to the bus stop across from hotel Kazakhstan to meet up with Monika, Justin, Janna, and Spencer. The Canada decided to stay home this time.
- We shortly board the bus towards Medeu and get off at the appropriate stop for the cable cars. It was very early in the morning, but, nevertheless, there was already a long, winding line leading up to the cable car. We grabbed our free (at the time, until 9AM) tickets and slugged our way to the line. About thirty minutes into the breathtakingly wonderful queue escapade, Taisiya (a very sweet tour guide with the RLASP program) spots us and congratulates us for the idea of coming to the pass.
We continue to wait in line and talk about fraternities, including the stereotypes an negative image often associated with fraternities. Spencer, who is from a fraternity, served as the spokesperson for all fraternities ever and shared some interesting stories regarding his local chapter. Nearing the cable car entrance, we see a television on which played various advertisements. One of these advertisements regarded the world cup in Moscow and consisted of various clips from different sports; soccer, tennis, basketball, volleyball, in which the ball was replaced with a soccer ball. In one clip two women contested against each other in a heated game of tennis and upon winning, one girl immediately raises her shirt and displays her training bra, which included the logo of some company. This took me and Spencer by surprise because we wouldn't expect such an action to happen from a woman in a professional tournament upon being declared winner, but I guess life doesn't play by our rules.
Due to the nature of the cable car and balancing weight, our group had to be separated in half when we actually got to board the cars. Monika, Spencer, and Jessie were placed into a cable car behind me and Janna, who were seated with two Russian men. Along the way up to the first stop, me and Janna converse with these Russian men and learn that they are from Moscow and St. Petersburg, and we discuss visa politics between Russia and America as well as the world cup. About halfway through the trip, we see on the group that someone wrote a message on the ground in snow: "Jessica (I forgot the name that was written, but let's go with Jessica), thanks for the daughter". What a lovely message, which I am sure was written with love and deep care!
Eventually we make it to the top and part ways with the Russian men. Me and Janna and I and Janna wait for the rest of our group to catch up and begin to explore the little rest stop before continuing up the mountain through the next cable car journey. This stop had a break taking view of the city and the temperature was already noticeably lower than in the center. Restaurants filled the area and there happened to be some kind of event going on. We watch as an MC yells at a group of Kazakh men doing push ups. Monika and Jesse, crossfit addicts, immediately want to jump in on this action and wait for the next competition to show off their large, bulging, push-up muscles. They scoff at the meager 35 push ups that the winner of this competition completed and eagerly jump in on the following competition. Ready to get into push up position and blow everyone away, they are surprised with a different set of rules: rather than a push up competition, they actually signed up to participate in a dance competition. In front of a large group of people in public, being broadcaster to television. This is a perfect opportunity for my camera! They dance to Michael Jackson's "Beat it" and are throughout ashamed by the task they have to do, but Jesse and Monika make it through the first stage of the competition and end up winning gift cards to a resort. After listening to the next presentation, which was a group of Kazakhs singing some popular Russian songs, we decided that it was high time to move along, and get on to the next set of cable cars. This time, we were able to fit our group together into one car.
We make it to the next stopping point, which was just an empty platform with yet another great view of the city. We continue onto the next set of cable cars, leading to the last stop.
We reach the top and boy is the sight amazing! I'm starting to notice a trend. We look around for a restroom/toilet/washroom/whatever and can't find it. Located right next to the cable car platform is a bar with absolutely nothing for us in it, and a little further down the mountain to the west was a couple of yurts along with a small cafe hugging the edge of the mountaintop.
We each get our coffee fix from this cafe and in accordance with the advise of the barista from this cafe, we head upwards into the mountains to the East rather than continuing to the West in order to find a restroom, because there is apparently less of a wait time. We continued onward through our hike and take pictures along a large rock and some snow. Along our path we were stopped by some military looking guys at a table, who demanded that we signed and recorded our information on a paper, in the event that we get lost or injured during the hike and do not return. Walking further along, we couldn't find the restroom and the hike started to lead to a steeper trail, for which Monika and Janna were not prepared, as their shoes didn't allow for climbing mountains without slipping. We take some more pictures and goof around as a group of Americans do and then proceed to head back home, Monika taking along with her a small frozen olaf snowman.
I am disgusted by the littering and take out my conveniently stored plastic bag from a convenience store and begin to collect various litter from off the ground as we return to the cable cars. While walking back we sing disney tunes and catch up to a woman who is singing 'под московские вечера,' so we join along. As we finish the tune, we chat with the woman before parting ways. The line to the cable car stretched far far back and we were all unbelievably delighted and pleased to have to wait another half hour in a line. In front of us was a man with a medal around his neck. I'm guessing he won the race that was apparently going on through the mountain. Coolio.
We eventually make it back to the first platform stop, where the concert was continuing along. We got lunch at one of the restaurant and -finally- got the opportunity to use the restroom. I ordered a simple sandwich of delight, whatever that means, and my friends got pasta. Janna and Monika praised the mohito they purchased, commenting on how fresh it was in comparison to the mohitos in America, which are often made with syrups.
After a long journey, we are all ready to make it back home and get back to the bus stop.
Wow.
There is a LOT of people at this bus stop.
When the bus actually does arrive, it is already overfilled with people and somehow, 2/3rds of the people waiting at the stop jam their bodies into the gross, hot, sad, rolling metal jail house and the rest of us are forced to wait for the next bus, which would take close to another 40 minutes to hour of waiting. Monika orders a yandi taxi, which arrives in 2 minutes. However, there is not enough room to fit all of us in the taxi and Monika insists on us all going in to the taxi together which she waits, because she is a pure soul who doesn't want anyone left behind, even though her phone was dying and she would be forced to take the next bus alone. What a girl, what a savior!
The taxi takes us to the wrong address, but we eventually make our way to the Dostyk plaza mall and go our separate ways. I go to the Starbucks and finish up some homework that I didn't get to work on Saturday. After about an hour and a half, I finish up my work and while on my way out of the mall, I notice none other than Jesse and Monika at the small hole in the wall cafe next to galmart! I talk to Monika and she tells me about the ridiculous situation she had coming back. Unsurprisingly, the next bus was just as jam packed as the previous one, but Monika was determined to make it into this bus. She shoves her body into the terrible oven of death and is squished into a pole. She recalls that along the way back, an Onay official boards the bus and somehow checks the passengers of the bus to ensure that everyone paid for their ticket. Upon seeing Monika's peculiar positioning, the official laughs and manages to check her bus card as well.
- On my way back home, I get to sit down. Woohoo! I study my words some more and after about 4 or 5 stops, I notice a strange sight: a person boards the bus, but he sticks out like a sore thumb. First of all, he looks around the bus and seems to not know what to do. He goes up all the way to the front of the bus and messes around with the card reader for the bus ticket a bit before talking to the bus conductor. He takes out some money and pays the conductor and then stands right in front of the door. These are all, to me, obvious signs of a foreigner! At the next stop, the doors open and this passenger nearly falls out of the bus from the suddenly opening doors. I think to myself, "is this what I looked like four weeks ago when I tried to ride a bus on my own for the first time?" and revel in the fact that I am leagues above him in terms of bus etiquette. Finally, I am not the one to stick out like a sore thumb in my host country!
- When I get home, and try to sleep, a baby senses my presence and laughs at my pitiful attempt to rest up from a long day. It cries out loudly and screams, denying me from sleeping. A little bit later on, I start to hear grown people yelling and clapping, chanting about Russia. I guess there was some soccer game going and Russia made a goal. My goal, in contrast, was to get some shut eye. I look out of my window in scorn and notice that the light shinning through my window from the street light collided with the potted plant sitting on the windowsill and the shadow depicted a small dinosaur. Under the protection of this brave dinosaur shadow, I fell asleep.
Monday:
- Today I decided to exchange some money. Me, Justin, and Monika rush over to a bank and exchange money. Yay. The bank had air conditioning, so славо богу. On the way back from the bank, we stop by a small store and get some samsa. I wanted to try some wigurian samsas, but they ran out, so I ordered some other samsas and fumbled around trying to get the correct payment. Getting change in front of a cashier in Kazakhstan is such an external struggle because they always want you go give them the appropriate amount of money such that change can be simplified to bills rather than a mixture of bills and coins, which is something that I can understand. However, it's always stressful when the cashier and line of other customers waiting to purchase stuff stare at you as you fumble around for the 40 tenge in your small man sling bag. I was very confused by the process of paying, which should have been mind-numbing simple, yet I still managed to somehow make a fool out of myself and rushed away with my disgusting bill-and-coin change in hand.
- I eat my samsas along the way to the Mega Park mall, to work on homework at the starbucks. I awkwardly fumble around trying to order an iced coffee with vanilla and the barista suggests an iced americano with a pump of vanilla, which wan't half bad. The vanilla pump more or less masked the taste of burnt espresso and I didn't feel complete disappointment! I sit down and begin to work on my home assignments, and the lights in the mall frequently turn off and on for no apparent reason. I'm more or less okay with this, save for the fact that the power turning off also means that the internet gets turned off and is all wacky upon turning back on.
I work and work and a group of kazakh men next to me are speaking very loudly and having a good ol' time in this small cafe. When they are ready to depart, one knocks over my laptop and creates a huge scene, as the laptop loudly slams to the ground with a bang. He quickly picks the poor laptop of the ground and continues on his way, without even saying sorry to me. What a dick. That just ruined my mood, but I'm not a person that likes conflict, especially in a foreign country, so I passive-aggressively glare at the back of his head as he walks out of the cafe. I continue to work as if nothing happens, and nobody pays any attention to this insulting behavior, so I just sit and do homework, experiencing some kind of shock - maybe it's culture shock or maybe that guy is just really a huge asshole and I'm shaken by his rude behavior.
I get home and my aunt made some food. I try to explain my shock, but I can't seem to get my point across to my family, so I just sit in disappointed silence and quickly finish my dinner, not wanting to interact any further. I compliment my aunt's cooking and revel in the silence of the apartment as my host family drive my aunt back to her house. During this time, I do my laundry by my self for the first time and guess at what is laundry detergent: the case is written in German so I'm truly just guessing at either detergent or some sort of weird cleaning thing. It smells like fabric softener and is in a powdery form, so I'll just assume that it works for my cause. What's the worst that can happen?
Tuesday:
- After class, I follow Noah, Jessie, and Rebecca to get lunch at Giginova - the Georgian restaurant from which I tried that delicious khachapuri. They had a their weekly test today and were not too pleased with the results, so I obediently listened to them, ready to catch all of the tea they were about to spill. We order the 'biznis lanch' and I listen to them talk about their courses. They have different teachers and, of course, different courses and workloads. Each day, they must do a presentation about some topic and each week they have a test. This contrasts from my group, being that we have only had 1 test as of yet and 2 essays to write in class. I feel sorry for the amount of work they have to do compared to us, but only through hard work can one make progress, so I guess it's not all that bad!
- I return to the Starbucks because it's a comfortable place for me to study. I order a flat white and it is revolting. Also, the internet doesn't work. Great! :D
- When I return home, I talk to Assel about what happened yesterday and express my complete discontent with what happened. She was surprised by the occurrence and sympathized with my feelings, assuring me that it was not a usual manner and empathizing with me. This is the huge plus of having a host family with which you can talk to: they can help you through rough times and encourage you, even when experiencing discomfort or culture shock. We eat dinner and I continue to do some laundry while watching the news. I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that in the corner of the news broadcast there was a woman translating everything said into sign language. I wonder, is that sign language a Kazakh or Russian variant of sign language? Nevertheless, it is very empowering in a way to see the inclusivity of Kazakh news, where subtitles are not always offered and are, as a rule, about 30 seconds to a minute lagging behind what is actually going on in the screen.
Wednesday:
- Today it was super hot in class and I had extreme difficulty focusing. I yearn for air conditioning!
- After two days of Starbucks in a row, I decided I should expand my internal map of Almaty and search for some other cafes away from my usual go-tos. I looked around a bit on 2GIs and found a handful of cafes cluttered near the Georgian restaurant, Giginova. I head over to the closest one and discover that it's the very same restaurant that I went to with Janna that one time, where I had trouble focusing on my work and felt a pull towards sleep. I decided to go to the second nearest cafe and stumbled upon a cafe at an intersection named Coffeedelia. This cafe has a stage and appears to host musicians sometimes. The menu is a bit pricey in terms of Kazakh cafes (cheap in terms of American cafes) with a plate of pasta and coffee costing a whopping 6 dollars! The audacity! I find a small nook in the corner with a nice view of the outside and work on my homework. I look outside and it seems that all hell is breaking loose, such that it is very windy and raining. Cool!
- Returning home, I stop by the Mango mall and decide to finally get a haircut. I awkwardly walk in and request a 'shortening of hair, as my hair is currently long and I want it to become shorter.' The man, likely Turkish, asks me in poor Russian (in this neighborhood, people primarily speak in Kazakh) if I have a picture of what I want. I say yes and start to search through all of my pictures on my phone, and he shows me some pictures on his phone from a google search of male hairstyles. We agree on a style and I am immediately sat onto a stool and a cape is attached around my neck. Honestly, I can work with whatever style I am given, so long as my hair is just shorter.
We conserve a little bit, which is just speaking to me in Kazakh and me responding in English, trying to guess what he is asking me, but I feel a connection - the people at this hair salon are friendly and help me, rather than look at me like I'm an idiot who doesn't know what he wants. After a bit, I am given a proper haircut (MUCH better than in Portland) and I am ready to pay and leave. However, the stylist orders me to stay in my seat and cleans up the hair from the area. He then proceeds to shampoo my head and wash it off. I guess that this would be a pricey salon due to the extra service, that you would usually not get from a salon in Portland (at least, the cheapest ones I've been to). I ask for the cost and brace myself - about $4.50. WHAT? In Portland, the cheapest haircut I can get is around 10-15$ and they can run up to even 30$ for just a simple cut and nothing fancy! What a steal!
Thursday:
- Today during grammar class, a sudden downpour began, yet we continued to study on like the dedicated group of stuents we are. After half an hour or so, the sun came back out and it is unbearably humid and hot, even attempting to focus in class is a joke. Keeping in mind that I was almost done with classes for the week, I pushed on through the conditions and survived through classes.
- Me, Miranda, and Brenden gather at this Anchor restaurant for lunch. I order a pasta that resembles alfredo, but the sauce tasted watered down and not worth the price. The atmosphere, on the other hand, was top notch and sailed over the competition: there was even a monster in diving gear to greet us! We talked about culture in Russia versus Kazakhstan and our experiences with our host families and locals.
- After lunch, me and Brenden head the same way towards the green bazar, located to the east of the restaurant in which we ate. Brenden was going home, and my goal was to find a rain poncho to keep myself dry during hikes in the event of rain. On way to bazar, I find a Korean shop and find the legendary fire noodles, which I wanted to challenge my friends and family to. I purchase two packages of this as well as a set of Korean chopsticks and spoon specifically for this challenge. I can't wait to see just how much spice my family and colleagues can take!
- By the time I reach the green bazar, it is already about to close, so I decide to give up on the search for the rain poncho and settle myself at a nearby Starbucks. In line I hear the cashier explaining to a customer what matcha is and my ears perk up. I decide to order a classical iced green tea late - one of the staples that is perfect for when you want something to wake you up a bit but not put you on edge with the coffee jitters.
Unsurprisingly, it was absolutely disgusting and very bitter. It was a drink, though, so I continued to drink it and work on my homework. I hear a person ordering a drink through my headphones, and it is not in Russian, but rather in loud English with a slight, but noticeable accent. I wonder where they are from, but don't bother to turn my head 180 degrees to take a peek.
- Returning back home, I stop by my local grocery store to see if they by change carry a rain poncho. The answer is no. My local pharmacy also does not carry a rain poncho. Oh well, at least I have the small umbrella that Assel lent to me!
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I will break my update into two parts with this parts ending here -- Next week's update will come tomorrow and will detail my long weekend trip, filled with many adventures in a Russian village!
Until next time,
- Namu
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