Out with the old…(or: The only good Russian, is a White Russian.)

С Новым Годом! Жана Жылынызбен!!! The past year was quite productive for Molapse in the offline world, yet somehow that didn’t translate to this site.  I think I received more comments than there were actual posts :/ Nevertheless I’ve never been too concerned about timeliness (the tagline of the website translates to “Yesterday’s news, tomorrow”), so here is one leftover odd & end from 2009 for your enjoyment.

Springtime is here in Almaty and that means more 2010 World Cup Qualifying matches for Kazakhstan! The squad entered the year second from bottom in Group 6. As I said before, KZ has had a history of playing tough at home over the past two years, beating Serbia. In 2008 they began by demolishing perennial giants Andorra 3-0 in August. However, following this good run of form KZ couldn’t quite compete with Ukraine, falling 3-1 to Shevchenko & Co. in October.

On the road they have the habit of running their asses off for the first 45, then falling apart in the second half. In October they surprisingly held England scoreless at Wembley(!) for 52 minutes.The next qualifying match, and first in 2009, was against another former Soviet Republic, Belarus. Played on Wednesday April 1^st. Also of note as being the penultimate home match before England will come to visit in June. Molapse was there…

On match day I arrive about one hour early, despite my bus getting caught in Almaty’s horrific rush hour traffic down Satpaev Ave. I flash my shiny new СМИ (press) pass and get waved in by the blue-camoflauged cadets who control the southern gate of the stadium grounds. The pass comes from my gig as a news correspondant, a glamourous way of saying I get paid send SMS updates to European website for every goal, card and sub.

Before heading into the stadium I thought it best to take advantage of the restroom facilities myself before the match began. Near the southeastern corner of the stadium grounds. I spot a round two story structure housing the toilets. I make my way in after paying the 25 tenge ($0.17) fee, and wonder how the English fans coming in June will react to being asked to pay (in Russian) this nominal sums to answer nature’s call. Perhaps the British Embassy should sponsor free use of the restrooms in hopes of avoiding an international incident when the Russian Babushka gets between the bathroom and John Smithwinkle after a one or a dozen pints.

On the second floor I enter a labyrinth of still sparkling white porcelin. There are  different rooms branching off like an ivory honeycomb, each containing rows of gleaming white, almost brand new urinals (sponsored by the British Embassy?). Before I can snap a picture a teenger enters my cell. After getting business done he awkwardly decides to speak to me, «Казахстан победит, да?» (Kazakhstan’s gonna win, right?). Feeling optimistic, I answer with a hearty «Ну, конечно!» (Of course!), adding, «2-0». My friend raises me one, « 3-0 даже!» (Make it 3!) before exiting down the stairs to the grounds. That about sums up the attitude of the Kazakhstani fans.

The view from the press box.

I pass through the new special designated press entrance (through the stadium’s offices, rather than the general seating) and four (4!) more security checks before entering the press section in the middle of the west stamnd. Several Belarusian journos are seated in the covered press box (with tables and outlets for laptops), but I take a seat in front of them. First things first, I needed to send the lineups to Europe Central, and I borrow a copy of the from one blond haired visitors. Having, to my knowledge, never met a Belarusian, he is exactly as I pictured one to be. Average height, a little slim, with medium length bright blond hair. To complete the look he is wearing rectangular, shaded eye glasses and a bright red Belarus football scarf. Like a Russian, but somehow even more russian.

Before the match begins I take survey of the stadium. There’s almost as many people as for the Ukraine match, but whereas the Ukrainian fans had a decent showing, there’s hardly any Belarusian supporters. Behind me is the covered West stand, with the «VIPs» shelling out up to 3000 Tenge ($20) for seats for tonight’s match (Note: the prices for the England match would be much higher). Across the field, in the East stand, sit some of the organized fan groups.  Some clever supporters put up a banner punning the fact that both teams have German coaches named Bernd:

I spend the next 20-30 minutes frantically typing the player’s names into my cell phone, and with last names like Nusserbayev, Zhumaskaliyev and Verkhovtsov among the ranks, this is no easy work. Sasha, the FFK’s Press Officer, asks me why I’m standing, and tells me that my pass allows me to sit in the press box. Not wasting such a privelege, I take place between a local reporter and an older Belarusian journalist. This one fulfulls my other stereotype of Belaus, old, stern and authoritative, complete with a moustache…hm..no it couldnt be…

"So then I says to Mabel, I says..."

The match begins, with Kazakhstan in home blue and Belarus in bright white. The latter display some crisp passing early on but stumble in front of the KZ goal and, on the counter it is the home team’s Rinat Abdullin who strikes first! Being awhile since Kazakhstan have enjoyed a lead the energy of the crowd picks way up. Another quality chance for KZ quickly follows: after a second Belurusian goal mouth scramble the blues respond with a break away down the left. They have a 2-on-2 in the Belarusian 6-yard box but the weak centering pass gets intercepted by the defender and cleared.

By about the 30th minute another unforeseen problem enters my mind. While being mindful enough to go to the bathroom before the match, I forgot to eat dinner. Vendors walk through the stadium selling beer, juice and water in large plastic cups, but no food. And I can’t leave the action until the break due to my ’serious’ journalistic responsiblities. Luckily the remainder of the half is uneventful. The crowd, similarly looking for their own excitement, start the wave at the 37th minute, making 3 full passes around the stadium.

At the halftime whistle it’s 1-0 to Kazakhstan, and I run out to beat the crowds and get some grub. The stadium grounds holds several food stalls, and at one I drop 170 Tenge ($1.12) on two pirozhkis (fried dough stuffed with minuscule amounts of meat or potatos). I  quickly devour them. Like most meals in KZ, my palatte is unsatisfied, but I’ve gained enough calories to keep me alive. Coming back to the press box I take a seat, wipe the oil of my hands and start texting my friend, asking if he wants some doner kebab after the game. I am hardly finished when two minutes in Alexander Cleb (as spelled on the official team sheet), pounces on the ball to strike the equalizer for Belarus.

It just gets uglier from there. It seems to me that instead of spending the halftime break strategizing, the Kazakh team instead scarfed down greasy pirozhkis. Seven minutes later Belarus scores another goal. In the 57th another. In the 64th a fourth is added. Four goals in 16 minutes put an end to any Kazakhstan hopes. The sudden swing of events creates tension on the field, including some minor scuffles. Our referee is a bit tolerant, and the teams escape with two Yellow Cards. The Belarusians stick the nail in the coffin in the 88th minute with a fifth goal. Despite the fact that doner is still on my mind, and the fifth goal not making much of a difference, I feel the responsibility to send the goal report immediately. Somewhere in the world (I imagine in some dark and windswept Antarctic Research Base) are Belarusian following the match. These poor lost souls, far from home, are depending on my SMSes to bring them some cheer; and an excuse for another celebratory shot of vodka.

The match ends 5-1. The crowd files out. They seem justifiably more subdued than after the loss against Ukraine, losing more handily to a lesser opponent. Even so, there were still some chants, screaming and honking along the streets as I made my way for some long awaited doner.

Finding Kvas, and Kazakhstan, in Astana

(This is a continuation of my previous post on my trip to Astana, capital city of Kazakhstan.)

We took a cab from the sparkling new city across the river to the Right Bank, where most of the city lies. Before the beginning of the current remont Tselinograd was a fairly standard Kazakh/Soviet city. From all the pictures/materials that I’ve seen (mainly the odd ‘Akmola Encyclopedia’ published in the mid-1990’s) it had the same square, theater, roads etc that you’d find elsewhere. So heading to the older neighborhoods I was very eager to find that familiarity lost in the plastic grandness of the Left Bank.

Summer Tour Domination!

Over the next week or so you’ll have the chance to read about some summer travels, about which, nakonets, I’ve had the time to write. In July and August I ventured outside of Kazakhstan and reached two opposite ends of Asia. In the East were Japan and South Korea. In the West was Russia, including Russia proper and its Republics of Tatarstan and Bashkortistan.

I will share with you not only my impressions of these three countries, with vastly different cultures and people, but comparisons to my current home of Kazakhstan. Aside from comparing the characters of each city, on this trip I was eager to learn if the cliche about some ‘generic’ Asian values being part of Kazakh culture had any truth. As well I hoped to see the originating point of the overwhelming Russian/Soviet influence on this country. 

Picking on Someone Your Own Size

Kazakhstan, for those not in the know, is the 9th largest country in the world. Andorra ranks 196th, squeezed between Saint Lucia and some semi-country known as The Northern Mariana Islands. So it was not a surprise to see what would happen when the two countries met in their first 2010 FIFA World Cup Qualifying Match in late August.

Central Stadium at Night

First some background information on both teams. Kazakhstan (which since 2002 competes in European competitions, not Asian) has had some good home form: beating Serbia, tying Belgium, and holding Portugal goalless for about 80 minutes in 2007.

Back to School!

  

A storm last night brought the first whiff of autumn, crisper air and slightly cooler temperatures. And with autumn comes the beginning of school. September 1st is the traditional day for that in Kazakhstan, and I spent the ‘Day of Knowledge’ in the ‘village’ of Turkistan in the South of Kazakhstan. The main part of the ceremonies concerned welcoming the new 1st formers, and saying

Happy…what holiday is it???

It’s a 3-day weekend here in Kazakhstan. To be precise, August 30th is Constitution Day, one of the three fall holidays that celebrate the Kazakhstani ’state’ as an independent entity. Prize for whoever can guess the other two. Here is a pic from some of the music/events going on in front of the Republic Palace in Almaty, it’s a little misleading as there are more people watching, but not a whole lot. This holiday in particular doesn’t have a lot of umph behind it (yeah! let’s get together and read the Constitution!) but it provides a nice break at the end of the summer.  I’m off on a short trip so my summer travel wrap-up will have to wait a few more days. But trust me it’s worth it! 

Constitution Day Festivities

Back from the road…

In case you were wondering where I’ve disappeared to, I’ve been traveling for most of the past 6 weeks. There’s a lot to catch up on, not to mention finishing writing about my Astana trip. To hold you over here are some pictures of students watching the solar eclipse on August 1st. They came up with an inventive solution: using an old fashioned 3.5″ disk to view it. It didn’t get quite so dark, more like an eerie dimness, but it was still a fun event.

 

Beijing Goes Boom

There’s an interesting article from Reuters on the Olympic construction boom in Beijing (and some great pictures). In preparation for the 2008 Games, China has concentrated on building ‘futuristic architectural statements’ to show off the state’s development. International events like the Olympics have long been used by the host nation as this type of showcase. In heavily ideological countries like the USSR and China, the importance reaches a new level. Tristram Carfrae, engineer and designer of the ‘Water Cube’ building, sees this as exactly the case:

“If you look at Beijing’s history of architecture and design as being about monumentalism, about the grand statement, then why should these sport venues be any different?”

New Opera House in Astana by the Presidential Palace

The Great Flat North (or: MY beloved ASTANA!)

(For more on my trip to Astana, check out the second part of this post here)

On July 6th, Kazakhstan’s capital city of Astana celebrated her 10th Anniversary. (The President got Astana a new flag. I got her a Bill Cosby sweater. Hope it fits.) So this is a good time to talk about my recent (mid June) trip to the northern city. After 10 months living in Kazakhstan, and travelling exclusively around the south, it was nice to see what all the fuss about Astana was about. I also looked forward to spotting the marked differences between the heavily Russian-influenced North, and the more traditional South of the country.

Approaching Astana

Astana, previously named Akmola and Tselinograd, became capital in the mid-1990’s. Akmola was a medium sized city that grew mostly during the era of the virgin lands campaign. Since becoming the capital, the population has grown to about 600,000 people, still only about 40% of Almaty. Most of the immigrants are from the surrounding northern oblasts, or government workers forced to move from Almaty.

Searching for the Soul of a City…

So by now I’ve spent 10 months living and working in Almaty. I’ve had some time to think, what makes Almaty interesting? What sets it apart? Why am I writing about it…besides the obvious fact that it’s the only city I currently reside, and thus my only material for these ramblings.

Before talking about Almaty in specific, let’s consider in general what gives a city it’s character, a sense of place? Certainly there are things that make each city unique. Perhaps it’s quantifiable, e.g. x number of quaint curved streets plus y meters of glittering waterfront times z colorful citizenry. Or maybe its not so specific, an atmosphere, a rhythm. Whatever the case, even without thinking about it whenever you visit a city it doesn’t take long to get a sense of where you are. After some time in Berlin, you are in no way mistaken as to where you are. Tokyo is definitely Tokyo, Paris is Paris, Istanbul is… well you get the idea. The identity of a city is also tied to its country and citizens. Tokyo is quite Japanese, Paris undoubtedly French, modern, sprawling Istanbul is (despite a long and varied multinational history) Turkish.

Kalinina/Furmanova