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Current TV: Chinatown, Africa

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 17:56:00 +0000

What are the 1.5 million Chinese in Africa up to? What is the meaning of China's deepening involvement on the African continent?

Current TV's Maria van Zeller provides some clues to the immediate as well as the complex and long-term ramifications of the spread of the Chinese diaspora, industry, and state in Africa.

Are the Chinese to fulfill Thomas Barnett's so-called "SysAdmin" role, or will the Chinese economically dominate the continent as they have throughout other parts of the developing world, incurring resentment of neo-colonials as in places such as Malaysia and Indonesia? Are the "SysAdmin" and neo-colonial one and the same, or is there some measure of mutual exclusion?

There are far more questions than answers, but this piece provides a few clues.

In "Chinatown, Africa", Vanguard correspondent Mariana van Zeller travels to Angola to investigate China's rapidly growing presence in Africa. While many welcome China's investment, others see reason for concern. Chinatown, Africa is revealing look at a growing superpower's adventures abroad.

Raul Castro sings in Chinese for Chinese delegation

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 13:30:00 +0000

He is in fact singing the commie Chinese classic, "The East is Red" (东方红, or Dōngfāng Hóng)

NASA: The One That Got Away

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 09:30:00 +0000

This video is remarkable from the perspective of watching someone literal lose something into the (essentially) infinite vacuum of space. It's a bit like dropping your watch off a boat deck and watching it swiftly disappear beneath the murky water, and you can only watch helplessly, without any possibility of ever recovering it. However, this case is worse both from the perspective of the impossibility of recovery and the transparency view of the bag's descent -- it will be in plain view until it is too distant or burns up in the atmosphere.

Additionally, I find it particularly remarkable in that such highly trained people as astronauts could make such a typically "stupid human" error while performing in space. Of course, every human on earth can empathize (have you ever left something on the hood of your car?), but its embarrassing for NASA and I imagine that other countries' space programs probably would have censored this footage.

As a final thought: why wasn't there a fail-safe in keeping the bags secured to each other and secured to the astronaut? It seems losing something like this would have been an obvious hazard that engineers would have anticipated.

The BIGGEST Picture

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 15:30:00 +0000

Forgive me for using the term, but this is "mind-blowing" in the purest sense. From TED Talks: "At Serious Play 2008, astrophysicist George Smoot shows stunning new images from deep-space surveys, and prods us to ponder how the cosmos -- with its giant webs of dark matter and mysterious gaping voids -- got built this way."

This talk presents astonishing concepts and imagery. For example, according to Dr. Smoot, there are an estimated 100 billion galaxies in the universe. Now, wrapping your brain around the concept of a number as large as a 100 billion is by no means an intuitive process, much less such a figure representing objects as vast as galaxies. By way of comparison, Dr. Smoot estimates that our galaxy alone has about 100 billion stars.

So how does this relate to you? Well, in conjunction with geologic time it represents part of the body of facts that reinforces the idea that you are basically nothing, but then, 100 billion galaxies is also presumably nothing relative to something proportionally larger, so don't feel bad!

Anyway, watch! It's fascinating.

The Big Big Picture: Jeffrey Sachs on climate change as an economic constraint

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 04:07:00 +0000

An Exercise In Soft Power: What The Beijing Olympics Really Mean To China

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 18:01:00 +0000

Within China, images of the coming 2008 Olympic Summer Games in Beijing have been absolutely pervasive for several years. Since 2004, when a 14-meter countdown-clock was planted in Tian'anmen Square to date, the presence, image and promotion of the Beijing Games has grown through every part of Chinese public life. In Shanghai, replicas of the Olympic torch serve as lamp-posts lining major boulevards, the five bobble headed "friendlies" greet you on virtually every spare public placard, a plethora of commemorative items are sold in gift shops, sponsorships have been sold for every conceivable product, and events are staged to lardmark even seemingly insignificant occasions.

To the average Chinese citizen, the Olympics has been billed as far more than sport, but is recognized as China's so-called "national coming-out party" and viewed as an immensely important event, signifying China's rise, prestige in the world, and perhaps a means of shedding the national sense of "humiliation" that is common in Chinese public discourse and education. In economic terms, the cost of the 17-day event has been frequently estimated around US$40 billion, which probably does not account for the disruptions in economic activity (temporarily shutting-down factories, power plants, limiting traffic to improve air quality, air-quality monitoring, etc.) or the elaborate and occassionally comical security efforts to ensure the games are secure from "anti-China" elements. No chances are being taken and no expense is being spared to ensure the success of the Games of the XXIX Olympiad.

This why I was recently baffled by the second paragraph of April Rabkin's otherwise righteous New York Times editorial piece China's Inside Game wherein she claims,

"What the (International Olympic Committee) and the rest of the world don’t realize is how little China cares what they think. Here in Beijing, the Olympic Games are primarily for domestic consumption, justifying the government’s new global power to its own people."

and then concludes the article in somewhat contradictory terms by reiterating Beijing's claim to the largest-ever viewing audience in language that suggests that international opinion is part of the the so-called "mandate of heaven."

"This August a few world leaders may boycott the opening ceremony. But the Games will go forward and be televised to what China will most likely declare is the largest worldwide audience ever. The Chinese government will have pulled off a modern Olympics — as close to a mandate from heaven as could be imagined by any dynasty of any era."

As an aside — in regard to the size of the audience, I suspect that Beijing's estimate is quite correct as more people have (Chinese-made) televisions, satellite and internet connections than ever before, and with about 20% of the world's eyeballs — heavily primed ones at that — on their turf, one wonders how many Chinese TV channels will be dedicated to the Olympics. Given that all channels were allocated to coverage of the recent earthquake in Sichuan Province, presumably a good number of the 40 or so standard television channels will carry the games.

While the Chinese audience has been preparing for the games for years, the rest of the world will also be watching with great interest, and the Chinese government and its sophisticated propagandists are keenly aware of this. In fact, Beijing estimates that the games will have about 4 billion viewers worldwide, the broadcast rights to which were sold for around US$1.7 billion. Additionally, foreign attendance in the various cities with Olympic venues is large enough that the Chinese government broadcasting public service messages on proper proper etiquette (which is a serious problem in China) and verse taxi drivers and other public service personel in basic spoken English.

The truth is that China does care a great deal about what impressions foreigners gain from the Olympics, and it is eager to ensure that they receive the proper messages. This point of view was positively asserted in an interview with Susan Shirk (author of the recently acclaimed book China: Fragile Superpower: How China's Internal Politics Could Derail Its Peaceful Rise) at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum:

"You know, China wants to believe that it can rise peacefully, China's leaders want to believe they can rise peacefully, without provoking a conflict with the United States. But if, every time they do something they feel that they are the target of criticism, it breeds all sorts of suspicions that the United States, and Americans, will never accept China as a legitimate player in the world. Let us remember, the United States Congress had votes to deny the Olympics to China when it was competing for the 1994 Olympics because of its human rights record, and it did not get those Olympics. So getting the nod to host the 2008 Olympics was huge for China as a kind of respect and legitimacy. You know, China is more concerned about its international reputation than any country I can think of in the world, because of this kind of insecurity." (emphasis added)

So in August, with roughly 4 billion viewers tuning their sets to the games, the images and stories that are broadcast are very much part of Beijing's calculus in creating a successful games. For as it stands, outsiders still know very little of China, and without first-hand experience, one's preconceived notions are inevitably way-off, as anyone who has spent time there will tell you.

Thus, in China, under of government so deeply concerned with image, information, and ultimately mind-control, the large foreign audience presents a highly impressionable target, which it will attempt to bedazzle with it's futuristic venues, material wealth, technical prowess, organizational competence, and human performance. These narratives will be artfully presented through the media to project the power of Chinese state, the richness of Chinese culture, and the greatness of its people, ideas which Beijing hopes will take root in the minds of the viewership. In effect, it is to be the most broad-based propaganda effort in world history, and more directly, an attempt to plant the "official version of China" into as many minds as possible. It is, in a nutshell, a great psychological power play, an exercise in "soft power."

Of course, this is not to deny the realities of the progress that has taken place in China since its opening to the world about 30 years ago. However, it does expose the extraordinary disingenuousness of China's insistence that the game not be politicized. Although it is technically a sporting competition, the Olympics is also a contest among nations, which is inherently political. What events other than direct armed conflict could inspire greater mass nationalism than head-to-head competition between national teams? Of course, China is very much aware of this, and is making every effort to take advantage of the opportunity, which it hopes will translate into greater power and prestige for it's government, corporations, and citizens, while it tries to keep a lid on any elements that undermine this ambition. The public presentation of these 17-days are in fact the great drama of the 2008 Summer Olympics: the competing agendas of the official version, versus attempts by various disaffected, dispossessed and oppressed groups to disrupt the games and claim attention, and the reality of China, which lies somewhere in between.

Through the course of the Olympic torch-relay, the public display has been something of a PR disaster for China, as protest groups were effective in gaining attention or at least tarnishing China's image, as the recent Pew Global Attitudes Project reveals:

"Overall the current survey, which was conducted at a time when China was coming under harsh criticism for its crackdown on political dissent in Tibet, once again finds favorable ratings of China slipping in many countries. Positive views fell significantly in nine of 21 countries in which polls were taken in 2007, as well as in the current survey. Opinions of China tumbled the most in France (47% to 28%) and in Japan (29% to 14%). Favorable ratings of China are highest in Nigeria, Pakistan, Tanzania and Russia"

Inevitably, the unfolding those 17-days in August will be historic. Some businesses will reap a windfall from the games, as many have already in the build-up to the events. During the games, China will have the world's attention and an unprecedented opportunity to shine, and in all likelihood, after years of intensive development, China's teams will win the overall medal count. However, the way in which the Beijing Olympics is presented to world and the public perceptions and attitudes that it creates will determine the longer-term ramifications for China, and therein lie the real stakes.

Fire Dancing On Ko Chang, Thailand

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Wed, 28 May 2008 11:01:00 +0000

Uzbekistan: Shades of oppression

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Sun, 25 Nov 2007 13:19:00 +0000

Of the places that I've visited, Georgia is positively the most open, democratic, and capitalist, followed only by Kyrgyzstan in distant second. Georgia is the most tourist and business-friendly place I've been, where (at least in Tbilisi), the police are not intimidating, and there is some measure of free expression. Sure the protests of early November were violently and probably inappropriately broken-up, but they simply could not have occurred in any other place in this region -- certainly not some of the more extreme expressions of public dissatisfaction, such as decrying the president by shouting "Misha!" and saluting sig heil. Elsewhere, I have been told that even lesser criticisms would result in beating, fines, job-loss, and/or prison. And when it comes to oppression, topping the list, there's no place like Uzbekistan! While I must admit that Turkmenistan was a very close second, since the passing of Turkmenbashi, by all appearances it seems things are improving there.

Uzbekistan's situation as only one of two doubly-landlocked countries in the world (the other is Liechtenstein), bespeaks it's isolation and the oppressive system that binds the country. And while Uzbekistan's police have been reformed in recent years and they no longer seem to shake-down tourists, they were swarming on every corner of the cities that I visited, checking documents on the street, stopping vehicles at checkpoints that appear every 10 km or so on major highways, and one can only imagine how invasive the police presence must be in the daily lives of the nearly 28 million Uzbekistani nationals. For instance, according to people I've spoken to, it is extremely difficult to start a business there, as the state bureaucracy tends to arbitrarily tax and regulate small businesses to death. The oppressive police force is, in effect, a parasitic organ of the state that feeds off of living cultural and economic activity only to perpetuate its own existence and that of the ruling party. "Stalin would have probably been jealous if he’d found out that there are people in this world even better than him at frightening people," testified Uzbek asylum-seeker Mukhammadsolykh Abutov from Russia.

According to Transparency International 2007 Corruption Perceptions Index, "which ranks countries in terms of the degree to which corruption is perceived to exist among public officials and politicians," Uzbekistan ranks at the very bottom, rated at 175 of 179 countries and is exceeded only by Haiti, Iraq, Myanmar (Burma), and Somalia. When a group college students in Tashkent -- some recently graduated and unemployed -- were asked how to get rich in Uzbekistan, they immediately replied "drugs, gambling and prostitution." And according to two reports written by the former British Ambassador Craig Murray on Uzbekistani billionaire Alisher Usmanov, those students are exactly right. According to one of the reports,

When Usmanov negotiated a major oil and gas deal with Uzbekistan on behalf of Gazprom, the Russian state-owned company, $88m was paid in cash to Gulnara Karimova, the daughter of the Uzbeki president. Murray has since repeated that allegation in his book, Murder in Samarkand, an account of his time as the ambassador to Uzbekistan.

So if we can learn anything at all from this, we can be certain that it is good to live at the largess of an autocracy. However, for an ordinary Uzbekistani, it would seem that life's aspirations are much more modest with very few avenues of opportunity. Naturally, any discussion relating to politics is extremely dangerous for the average Uzbekistani, and although it is not impossible to find people who "will talk," the average person seems frightened and oppressed. While ethnic Uzbeks (comprising about 80% of the population) are markedly warm, kind, family-oriented people, ordinary life in Uzbekistan seems a dull shade of gray, with little evidence of any living culture, intellectualism, arts, or creativity. Rather, the Uzbekistani people seem frightened and in some sense, dumbed-down, as if they are the end product of a society which has long hammered-down "the nail that sticks out." And it is not uncommon to find Uzbeks -- particularly young men -- staring off into infinity with a stupefied, wall-eyed, bovine stare that seems to signify something like spiritual defeat.

One assumes that this descends from the governing system, which instead of facilitating growth and progress, appears designed to make life impossible. Everything -- from the poor banking system, the absurdly denominated currency (time spent "counting money" is a significant activity in virtually every transaction), poorly maintained highways, the routine police checks everywhere, the internet crawls where it exists, censorship is pervasive, the food shops are pitifully understocked in some places, economic opportunity is extremely limited, and the dense, inevitable bureaucracy overhangs virtually every part of public life -- whether by necessity or design, all of this serves to make daily life more difficult and the disempowers the people.

Likewise, religious activities are severely curbed, and religious oppression in this Sunni Muslim nation again serves to prevent and viable opposition or organization. Religious organizations, parties, and radicalism is perhaps the force the Uzbekistani government fears most, and all mosques and madrasahs are sanctioned and monitored by the state. This religious oppression culminated in April of 2005 at the infamous Anijon Massacre, when as many as 5,000 ordinary citizens were slaughtered by Uzbekistani security forces in the town of Andijon in the Fergana Valley. In an open letter to Russian President Vladimir Putin, an obviously terrified Mukhammadsolykh Abutov writes,

[The] people shot at on the square in Andijon were not terrorists or extremists. And we don’t even have such an organization! All of those accused of being involved in extremist organizations are there because of trumped up charges from the security service. It’s a pretext for repression, for crushing dissent among the people! Those who are in prison – thousands and thousands of people were not terrorists, and couldn’t have been! Our people are simply unhappy with the leaders of the republic. The disgruntlement is of a social nature, nothing else. The people are poor and hungry!

Academic Justifies Slaughter of Unarmed Demonstrators

Is this any surprise from a government that has reportedly boiled people alive in oil and has (appropriately, perhaps) adopted Amir Timur (Tamerlane) as their national symbol? While history has no shortage of butchers, Timur distinguished himself in the realm of genocide, killing an estimated 17 million in the course of his military campaigns, and after the conquest of Baghdad in 1401, 22 pyramids were constructed outside of the city from the severed heads of 90,000 people.

Here are some videos that further explicates the darker side of Uzbekistan through the fascinating story of former British Ambassador Craig Murray.

Warning: These videos contain extremely graphic content.

Life and Death under Karimov (Part I)

Life and Death under Karimov (Part II)

Life and Death under Karimov (Part III)

A voyeur in Tbilisi

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Thu, 22 Nov 2007 10:41:00 +0000

Walking in front of Parliament in Tbilisi, there were scores of policemen and an escorted motorcade carrying the leaders of Azerbaijan and Turkey who were in town for a regional summit. However, what was really catching was this young woman's Fall fashion statement: black woolen leggings, miniskirt and cherry-red belt. A Venus-Pan hybrid, might you say?

The leggings are suggestive of a certain untamed bestiality with proximate pagan undertones, while the miniskirt attracts attention for obvious reasons, and exposes a lot of bare flesh that cuts a sharp contrast to the dense hair of the leggings below. This contrast is made all the more shocking by the fact that normally, human body hair tends to lessen at the extremities of the hands and feet, and we are thus drawn to the counter-intuitive inverted order of this outfit. At the same time, the woman's hair color neatly matches the leggings, thus creating a sort of lateral symmetry between her head and feet.

The bright red belt is useful in drawing attention to the waistline, providing a visual highlight which serves to accentuate the relatively exaggerated biomechanics of the female pelvic girdle. Generally speaking and ignoring considerations of flexibility and muscle tension, broader hips tend to create a larger range of motion with each step, as the distance between the axis (the hip above the planted foot) and the moving outer hip (the hip above the stepping foot) is greater, and thus, broader hips cause the outer hip to pivot across a larger arc with each step.

Moreover, broader hips cause the outer hip to drop a greater distance downward when the supporting foot is lifted for stepping and all of the body's weight is transferred to the planted foot. In this motion, the outer hip dips downward as the body weight is transferred from the stepping foot to the planted foot, and the depth of this drop will be greater for broader hips due to the higher leverage exerted on the pivot point. Conversely, the upward motion of the outer hip will be greater in completing the stepping cycle, rising again as the stepping foot is replanted and the stepping leg straightened to support the body as the opposite foot is then lifted for the next step. Furthermore, a greater hip-to-waist ratio tends to amplify the apparent pivot-and-drop motion of walking, as a smaller waist and broader hips allow the hips to protrude a greater distance from the midsection, making this motion more observable. Of course, all of this is completely obvious to anyone who looks the red belt shown above.

The leggings are called "untebi," and I am told that they are not uncommon in this region. While, I clearly found this interesting enough to clandestinely snap this photo like some dirty old pervert and then write-it-up, I would posit that any woman who is dressed like this is in all likelihood not shy and probably would appreciate the attention of a stranger taking her photo. But why bother asking?

Travel Bums

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Tue, 20 Nov 2007 18:39:00 +0000

Is "bum" a derogatory term? Perhaps it would be more dignified to refer to them as "global nomads," "earth wanderers", or "lazy fucking hippies," but I think that "bum" most apt in describing a fairly small but growing number of people around the world who have left their homes, jobs, and schools for extended travel and exploration. To be fair, there are many different classifications of travel bums, and for some the term is well deserved. While others simply harbor and insatiable curiosity for adventure and learning about peoples, languages, cultures, histories, geography, cities, customs, etc. and who generally thrive on the challenge of it all. Many others (as one astute bum once pointed out to me) seem to be of the eternal misfit variety -- people with problems of a personal nature -- social, emotional, family -- which compels them to wonder constantly in places where there are always distractions from the self and relationships are rarely permanent. You will know them by their terrible personalities and poor hygiene. And still, others fall into this category by profession. They the the NGO employees, Peace Core volunteers, tour guides, and scholars who work and study in the nether reaches of the globe, attempting to shed light in some of the world's darker regions, although their motivations may not be entirely different from what drives amateurs.

I will be profiling some of these in the coming weeks, and I will reserve my more acerbic observations for people I plan to never meet again...ever. So if you're reading this, and you find yourself profiled but not insulted, I am probably whitewashing it, you dingy tosser!

A puff piece on Tashkent

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Tue, 20 Nov 2007 13:00:00 +0000

I arrived at the Tashkent airport after a two-hour flight with Uzbekistan Airways from Bishkek prepared for the infamous checks by Uzbekistani* customs agents. The checks were rumored to be invasive, extortionate, and immigration plus customs could mean up to three hours waiting under the drab fluorescent lights of the receiving area. While there was a good measure of chaos and idiocy at the airport, I passed through the entire process with no baggage check and in under an hour.

When you arrive at the airport, you are herded into a line which leads to three processing stalls, which in theory accommodate six immigration agents. However, on my arrival only two agents were working. There was also a sign overhanging one line that suggested express processing, with the phrase "Business Class" printed in English only. Of course, any pretenses of civility were completely ignored and the line became a manifold of piglets, pushing and shoving their way through. I met one Russian pharmacologist rolled her eyes as a man butted to the front of the line and passed immediately without presenting documents after catching the guards attention. "That's his friend," she explained.

The rest was relatively easy, compared to both the accounts given in various travel guides and in comparison to stories I heard from fellow travelers. However, generally speaking, Travel Guides such as the Lonely Planet are a good starting point, but their information is usually at least one or two years old by the time of publishing.

At the terminal exit, I was met my two local men approached me offering a taxi ride. Defensively, I tried to lose them as I've had my visits hijacked by pushy drivers in the past, but they simply would not go away. They demanded $20 for a ride to my hotel. "This is normal price," the fat boss insisted. I counter-offered $5, which they refused. I then told them that I would call my hotel, and started off towards the telephones, with the men still following me. Then I heard the smaller man call, "Mister, mister, please! Okay, five dollars!" I felt sorry for him.

He then drove me to the hotel, his wiry, clench fist pumping the stick-shift of his aging, white Lada. He offered me a cigarette and asked where I was from and how long I would stay in Tashkent. And on arrival at my hotel, he insisted on giving me his mobile number in hopes that I would bring him more business during my stay in Tashkent and flashed a broken-tooth smile as he watched me go.

Gulnara's Bed and Breakfast was one of the few guest houses, hostels, or hotels that has been memorable on this trip. A large, traditional Uzbek house, with high gate that opens to a quiet courtyard lined with persimmon trees, branched hanging heavy with fruit. Run by Gulnara, a 60-ish Uzbek woman, who seems learn the names of each guest and speaks warmly in broken English, which usually trails into Russian after a few words. A grandmotherly woman, when asked about the persimmons, Gulnara invited me to take all I liked, and then she walked me over to the best of them, a particularly ripe, sweet fruit. In addition to being popular with the guests, by all appearances, she does a cracking business, which includes nightly "traditional Uzbek" feasts, which literally draws French pensioners (who account for 97% of Uzbekistan's GNP) by the bus-load -- with tables in the courtyard or dining room large enough to accommodate about 30 guests.

I remained in Tashkent for only three nights, as I was anxious to leave for Nukus, Moynaq, and the remains of the Aral Sea, and I spent the majority of my time their chasing my visas for Turkmenistan and Azerbaijan.

* Note: "Uzbekistani" refers to the nationality of Uzbekistan, while "Uzbek" refers to the Uzbek ethnicity.

Georgia: Back to Christiandom and hot action...almost

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Sun, 18 Nov 2007 19:27:00 +0000

My arrival from Baku was preceded by political protests that culminated in the use of truncheons, tear gas, rubber bullets and water cannons by Georgian police, shutdown opposition media, and declared a state of emergen cy to stamp-out the protests. While the protests were ostensibly a demand for economic reforms, early elections and the ouster of US ally President Mikhail Saakashvili, the Georgian government claims that they were instigated by Russia, and the Georgian Foreign Ministry expelled several members of the Russian Embassy's staff, declaring them persona non grata on grounds of stirring social unrest and forced the early withdrawal of Russian troops from Batumi.

In response, the Russian Foreign Ministry expelled three Georgian diplomats, citing Georgia's "unfriendly actions." Following the incident, Saakashvili replaced the Prime Minister and advanced Georgia's national elections to January 5, but the violent crackdown, which apparently left hundreds injured, damaged Saakashvili's domestic support and international standing, and hurt the former Soviet Republic's bid to join NATO.

It was a pity that I arrived in Tbilisi via Baku just one day after the state of emergency had been lifted, and now, there is no noticeable evidence that anything out of the ordinary happened here. I was in Turkmenistan when the protests began, and facing the isolation of a travel-imposed news blackout, it was announced to me by our tour guide, a huge Russian and a nine-year veteran of the Soviet Army. He attempted to present the news off-handedly but his excitement was evident, "You know, I was watching the news today, and they are having a revolution in Georgia. They're protesting because of the bad economy. The president there, Saakashvili, he's crazy." When our guide was pressed for 'why crazy,' he remarked, "He is severing Georgia's relationship with Russia, which has been more than 100 years." Of course, in Turkmenistan, all of the western media was blocked and while the block wasn't entirely comprehensive, being in a country that collects passports at internet cafés and is rumored to log the passwords of users, I didn't probe the story too deeply. After the November 7 crackdown, our guide again commented, "Saakashvili has proven that he is nothing but another bloody Kavkaz autocrat!"

Here in Tbilisi, I have casually spoken about it with some locals who are unhappy with what happened, and suggest that the US is responsible for exerting too much influence in Georgia's affairs and thus partly responsible for Saakashvili's heavy hand. Of course, there is an element of petropolitics at play here, as Georgia is a key link in the Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline, which among other things is designed to free Europe from the choke-hold of dependence on Russian energy resources. Given Russia's history of abusing its status as an energy supplier (see here, here, and here) as a blunt tool of geopolitics, it is obviously desirable for Europe to have other options and resist Russia's bullying tactics. As Robert Amsterdam writes, "the increased state control over natural resources is inspiring men like Putin and Chavez to reject and denounce the open nature of the global economic structure and seek to build a 'new architecture' that cherishes rent seeking and opacity, and at least tolerates corruption and autocracy."

Signed by the government of Azerbaijan with a consortium of 10 western oil companies (AIOC) in 1994 and christened as the "Deal of the Century", the Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan (BTC) pipeline was initially intended to deliver oil (and eventually gas) to Europe from the Azeri-Chirag-Guneshli oil field via Baku and Tbilisi, terminating in the Mediterranean Turkish port of Ceyhan, thus obviating Russia. Of course, Russia does not like the BTC pipeline or Georgia's alignment with the West, which promises possible accession to NATO and the EU. Russia has responded to Georgia's westward shift by attempting to derail the BTC project and instigating unrest in Georgia that included peeling away the provinces South Ossetia and Abkhazia. There is also an argument that the pipeline provided partial impetus for the second Chechen war, allowing Russia to maintain active troops at the border of its southern neighbor, while Chechen rebels were known to hideout in the Pankisi Gorge, across Georgia's northern border.

In any event, that's the backgrounder on the hot action I just missed, and now, I am trying to figure out something to do that does not include touring religious buildings.

Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan pipeline image is courtesy of WikiMedia Commons.

Trabant Trek hobbles through Bishkek

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Wed, 31 Oct 2007 17:00:00 +0000

Back in Bishkek, I settled into the Nomad's Home Guesthouse which is reasonably well-managed and comfortable, if not overcrowded. Since my last visit, the guest house had received some wily invaders from Tajikistan -- that infamous group of ne'er-do-wells, the Trabant Trek clan. Actually, that's the professional face of the project, and the soft underbelly and dirty laundry is located here on Dan Murdoch's blog.

The Trabant Trek (TT) group is attempting to travel 15,000 miles from Germany to Cambodia in three Soviet-era plastic cars, Trabants or "Trabbies" as they are affectionately known. Their purpose: to raise $300,000 for charity and have fun traveling. At last notice, they were approximately 50% of the way through their travels and had achieved about 3% of the their fundraising goal. But like the plucky little cars that they drive, the TT folks are not going to give up until they are impounded or melted-down to make lawn furniture. Actually, they were arrested in Turkmenistan and held for two days in an abandoned parking lot for overstaying their visas, while a tribunal convened to decide their fate. Long story short, they were let off with a small fine.

In any event, when I met-up with the TT group, it seemed they were on their last legs. The group that I met was really only a fraction of the team, and in fact, two of the TT'ers had departed for home and the cars and other members of their party (including the mechanic and founder) were still broken-down in Tajikistan and out of communication for several days. However, it seems that since I left Bishkek, the group has been reunited and will ultimately somehow find their way to Cambodia.

Cold storage in Arslanbob

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 17:00:00 +0000

It's amazing how much more inviting places ending in "bob" sound than those ending in "bad." For example, it almost seems by design that Pakistan named its capital in such a way that makes it sound foreboding and breaks down into "Islam-a-bad." What if it were transliterated as "Islamabob?" Doesn't that sound more amicable? Or better still, "Islamaawesome" or "Islamalanewlexus" or "Islamapillowmint" or "Islamabuyonegetonefree"... All friendlier-sounding transliterations and less like teenage posturing.

That said, from Osh, I traveled north to the village of Arslanbob, which is a bit like Kyrgyzstan's answer to Sesame Street. It's a simple, quaint ethnic Uzbek village located in the valley beneath towering mountain peaks from which flow numerous streams, waterfalls and bubbling springs. According to the local Community Based Tourism (CBT) Director, Ibrahim, the village was founded in 677 AD. There, I spent four nights at the home a local family (who shall remain nameless), who were invariably warm and hospitable to me, and who in the end, gave me a nasty spell of food poisoning. Their house was comfortable enough, if not subfreezing at night. The cold I resisted with a selections from their store of extremely heavy quilts (probably about 20 kg apiece; presumably cotton-stuffed).

That aside, Arlsanbob is an idyllic location. There are ample places for hiking and trekking, two pristine lakes, a sprawling walnut forest, mountains, waterfalls, and skiing during the winter. The locals are friendly, accustomed to foreigners, and unlikely give you "stink-eye" as one Peace Core worker described the suspicious askance to which locals of this region are prone. Like children in remote areas everywhere, the kids in Arslanbob love to have their pictures taken, and groups of kids leaving school often stop tourists to request pictures. Because it has been part of CBT for seven years, there is also a fair bit of English spoken around Arslanbob, and the thirteen year-old daughter of my host family spoke reasonably good English. On giving me a tour of their small farm, she pointed to a flock of geese, and for her upcoming fourteenth birthday, her father would slaughter the fattest one, she said, as she sliced the air with a stiffened hand.

Leaving Arslanbob and in a bit of a hurry to return to Bishkek, I shared a taxi with an Israeli couple who took three hours to collect their bags and negotiate a price for their taxi. "We have a lot of problems with tourists from Israel," Ibrahim apologized. But by this time, I was too distracted to care what the Israelis were doing as I slipped into a feverish nausea, which made an agony of the first 4 hours of our 10 hour trip and caused me to purge myself of yesterday's laghman while the others had dinner.

On arrival in Bishkek at 3 AM, the guesthouse attendant met us at the door, and said that there were two beds available in the house and some others in the much colder yurt. Knowing I was quite ill, "Sorry!" the Israeli woman snapped, claiming the beds for herself. But this claim was quickly rejected by the guesthouse owner as she remembered that rooms were freshly painted.

Two days in Osh

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Mon, 29 Oct 2007 17:00:00 +0000

From the look of it, you wouldn't know that Osh is more than 3,000 years old. Like most places in Central Asia, the most recent marks were left by the Soviets, and Lenin's statue with his arm extended pointing the way to a future that no longer exists, still overlooks the downtown. Osh is a predominantly Uzbek city in Kyrgyzstan and in recent years was the sight of ethnic violence between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks that left more than 1,000 dead.

The Fergana Valley has long been the population center, ethnic mixing ground and hotbed of Islam and intellectualism in the region. Today, existing outside the grasp of the forcibly secularized Uzbek police state, Osh is a deeply muslim city and the main mosque was only about a block away from the stinking Osh Guesthouse, where the attendant, Kabuljon awakes early every morning for prayer and keeps a screensaver on the guesthouse computer that reads, "Allahhu Akbar!" or "God is great!"

Adjacent to the mosque, there is an internet cafe, which independently censors the New York Times using its software firewall. The administrator, who spoke passable English took the initiative to discuss "politics" with me. He complained that people in the West believe that Muslims are "ignorant," but it is not necessarily Muslim ignorance but the conflict of Muslim beliefs with oppressive modern constructs that are the problem. For example, he told me that his sister had intended to attend university, but was prevented from doing so do to the rule against wearing her hijab on campus. He was a predictable fundamentalist, who expressed his belief that everything written in the Koran is true now and for all times.

He also explained his belief in morality and its immutability over time. "Can you understand?" he asked rhetorically to punctuate his every idea. I responded that I believe that religious "morality" is simply a code that was written to keep society in tact given the circumstances at the time of its writing, and that with new circumstances, such rules can be relaxed. "Then, you are an atheist!" he shot back. He also expressed his disbelief that George W. Bush remains POTUS, to which I had neither an answer nor objection.

The Road to Osh

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Sun, 28 Oct 2007 06:29:00 +0000

I arrived in Bishkek during a fairly severe cold snap, which meant that my plan to travel to Issyk Kul had to be shelved. According to some Israelis I met, the lake itself wasn't terribly interesting, and because it is located about 800m above Bishkek, it was too cold for trekking. Actually, I had made a hasty agreement to join a chain-smoking Swiss ethnographer to Issyk Kul and hang around the surrounding villages, visit the Polygon, and camp-out in the Soviet era bungalows that line the shore, but I went to town to get cash and when I returned before her planned 10 AM departure time, she was gone. Actually, that was not the first time I had such an informal and infirm alliance disintegrate in midcourse. Undeterred, I made another hasty agreement to join a chain-smoking Aussie to the southern city of Osh in the Fergana Valley.

I new before I joined that my new traveling companion would pose a challenge in backseat diplomacy, having dealt with him for three days at the guesthouse. A self-described "slob" and a feral snorer, he was 55 year-old former accountant, pearl diver, and speed dealer who was missing his left thumb, a good chink out one of his upper incisors and various intangibles including decency, modesty and a sense of moderation. But otherwise, he was a decent chap, having retired to Thailand several years before, his hobbies included traveling, talking incessantly, scuba diving, drinking, fist-fighting, and whoring, which he would discuss with the same air of nonchalance which most men might discuss golf -- and in mixed company. Later one smart Hungarian woman bristled, "He just doesn't understand that some men don't go to prostitutes!"

Shortly into our trip and with about ten hours ahead, I decided to lay down the law. Through the unbroken current of tales and spittle flowing in my direction, I made a simple well-planned request which was delicately phrased and somewhat lengthly. It began with "Look, you are an interesting guy" and ended with "so with the greatest of respect, I'd just like some quiet time." And that was that. He was house-broken.

Of course, having made the travel arrangements only at the last minute, my traveling companion had negotiated a price for the taxi of 1500 Som (about $40), which is far too much and at least twice what the Russian man sitting in the front seat paid. Feeling ripped-off, I took great liberties in requesting stops on the way to Osh and took a few minutes for picutures at every scenic spot. In fact, the new road from Bishkek to Osh includes three passes that tower above 3000 meters, dramatic peaks, craggy canyons, and pitilless cliffs. Our driver made a point to test the asphalt, driving the the car hard and the tires screeching impatiently at every turn.

After descending again into the low country and somewhere just on the eastern tip of Toktogul Reservoir, I asked the drive to stop at the edge of a field that tilted downward toward the reservoir, which sparkled topaz beneath the great blue dome that seems to envelope this region. From our vantage point, the water didn't appear very far from the road and I stumbled down the embankment into a sun-drenched field of drying corn stalks and sunflowers with the water just beyond the field and mountains rising from the far bank. Continuing down the incline of the open field towards the water, I passed by a group of farmhands collecting stalks, presumably for fuel, and one of them walked over to me for an exchange that neither of us understood.

Soon realizing that the bank of the reservoir was considerably further than it appeared from the road, I quickened my pace, and passed throught a patch of tall browning plants from which I collected sticky burs all over my clothing and tangled through my shoe laces. At the clearing, the water appeared at some distance before me and a small trailer standing somewhere near the midpoint between. So decrepit was the trailer, I believed it abandoned, but as I approached, it there appeared below it a covey of turkeys and then a small face appeared in the window then disappeared.

Drawing closer, a man wearing a high-topped Kyrgyz felt hat and a boy came from the trailer and approached me. I met them, we exchanged a few words, I snapped a picture and tried to mime my growing sense of urgency to return to the car waiting for me at the roadside. About 20 minutes into this excurision, I hurried towards the water, snapped some more pictures and then started the long uphill trek back to the road.

Again, as I approached the trailer, the man and boy appeared followed by a woman who carried a bowl of sweetened yogurt and a loaf of flat bread. They invited me into their home to eat, and all considerations of hygeine aside, I did my best to convey my regret that I must leave. I broke a piece of bread, dipped it in the yogurt and ate it quickly. I then awkwardly attempted to give them a few Som, but they refused. As I put my money away, a five Som note fell to the ground and the old man picked it up and handed it to the little boy. Bidding me fairwell, the old man reached out ot give me a hug and attempted to kiss my cheek, but small as he was, it only landed on my neck. I took another picture, bid them farewell, and then jogged uphill to the car.

The driver and passengers were visibly annoyed at my 45 minute departure, and as I exhaustedly plodded up the roadside the big Russian barked, "Time!"

The great recapitulation from Samarkand!

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Sat, 27 Oct 2007 12:48:00 +0000

If my blog was a child, the government would probably prosecute me for neglect. The unfortunate thing about owning a blog is that, unlike a child, you can't really compensate for a lack of quality time by showering it with expensive gifts or giving it a shot of whiskey when it cries. Anyway, my blog and I are going to span time right here and now.

From Bishkek

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Sun, 30 Sep 2007 11:03:00 +0000

On my last night in Almaty, I was taken to Tau-Dastarkhan, a spa and resort in the mountains. The name means something like mountain feast, "tau" being the Kazakh word for mountain and "dastarkhan" literally meaning "tablecloth" but which also refers to a feast for family and friends on a special occasion. Unfortunately, I was not expecting such an elaborate farewell, so I didn't bring a camera and it's much prettier at night, but there are pictures posted on the complex's website here, here, here, here, here, and here. There are six restaurants each with a different national theme, private dining gazebos, several heated swimming pools, saunas, and a hotel all tastefully built into the mountain side. During the day, four wheelers and helicopter rides are available.

I left Almaty at 8 a.m. the following morning as the only passenger aboard a minivan from the bus station. We reached the border around 12 o'clock and arrived at the Manas International Airport around 12:30. The first person who greeted me was the woman at the exchange office who seemed genuinely happy to see me at the virtually empty airport and tried to speak to me in Spanish.

The road from Almaty to Bishkek was mountainous and sometimes beautiful but otherwise unremarkable except for the gradient of increasing poverty that appears upon leaving Almaty. Shortly after leaving the city, the countryside becomes agricultural and sparsely populated except for the occasional village or cottage. The infrastructure is good in Kazakhstan, but changes noticeably upon entering Kyrgyzstan, where the roads are Soviet era and even in Bishkek the sidewalks are cracked and full of holes and electrical wires hang dangerously low on their poles.

Crossing borders always presents a relatively stressful moment insofar as you are entering a no-man's land where you feel quite powerless in the hands of the border police of both your places of exit and entry. Realistically, the most trouble I have ever had in crossing a border was at the Chinese Zamin Uud - Erlian border, where the Chinese border guard kept me for a while complaining that my passport picture didn't look like me. But in actually, I think she just saw a Chinese-speaking foreigner as a curiosity...flirting as it goes in immigration. More recently, after being voted off the bus in Khorgos, perhaps sensing my dismay at having my travel plans forcibly changed, one Russian remarked, "Just tell the border guards your name is 'James Bond.' You'll have no problems." and the bus shook with laughter as I was ejected into the stalled border traffic.

Crossing the Kazakhstan-Kyrgyzstan border was surprisingly uninteresting, but nerve-wracking as is any situation that places a person at the mercy of strange people toting ugly semi-automatic firearms. The border police with their broad Soviet-style brims appeared bored and uninterested in me. At each border they did not even bother to check my bags or scrutinize me beyond the basic passport/visa check with the exception of simply asking me whether I was carrying drugs or weapons. "Pistolet?" the Kazakh guard asked me as he pulled an imaginary trigger.

In all, Bishkek is a far less attractive and more unfriendly city than Almaty. However, like Almaty, Bishkek is a very green city with large, health trees lining virtually every street and large parks, albeit unmanicured with overgrowth and undergrowth. It is also a very poorly-lit city at night, and once you leave the downtown area, Bishkek becomes a very dark city indeed and the foliage that is pleasant during the daytime becomes rather intimidating. It is much like walking on a sidewalk through the woods at night, although it is not so remote as the woods and there are plenty of people around who could plausibly quietly rob you or worse.

I have also quickly discovered that the police are an issue in Bishkek, and for whatever reason, they frequently stop foreign-looking people to check for travel documents and today, I was nailed twice. The first time was decidedly frightening not only because it was the first time and I have read so many stories of shakedowns by corrupt police in Central Asia, but because it occurred at the bus station (notorious for such crimes) immediately after I had turned a corner, as if by design.

About 10 meters beyond the corner as I walked down a dusty dirt road, I heard someone call me from behind and turned quickly to wave him off, thinking he was a taxi driver hawking tours. But at his second call, I noted that he was a shabbily uniformed security officer. He called to me "Passport! Document! American? Deutsch? Rusky?" as a second officer followed behind him. I didn't answer, but walked back towards him with my heavy pack in tow and opened my passport to my Kyrgyz visa. He quickly showed me his official ID as he took my passport and checked the visa and then looking down at the ID page. "Ah, American!" he exclaimed, handed back my passport and quickly walked away. I guess that's the benefit of having a huge base and paying massive bribes...er, rent.

This brings me to the conclusion that when you are threatened or perceive a threat, you get the idea of exactly what "security" means. And if you view the situation from the perspective of a Kyrgyz police officer, he has no idea who an American might be and what sort of repercussions any mistreatment might bring (presuming that he may wish to do something other than his job). And while some people consider gratitude to "army guys" as a priori to citizenship (to be sure, certain special-interest groups do), I was a little surprised how thankful I felt at that moment.

Fare Thee Well, Almaty

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Fri, 28 Sep 2007 14:59:00 +0000

Every time you travel to a new place, it is quite naturally different from any place you have ever been before, and to a curious person, most places will seem interesting. That said, perhaps I stayed a little too long as I have become acutely aware of why the Almaty Expat site announces "Say - NO to your boredom!" It certainly must get boring around here, especially during the winter.

However, I am leaving Almaty with a positive impression and it is a far better city than I imagined. The people are open, warm to travelers, very much laid-back, and I have found Almaty a very easy place to make friends. Additionally, there are a lot of things to do outside of Almaty such as skiing, hunting (ibex, elk, deer, wolves, bears, birds, rabbits), fishing, trekking, camping, etc. Additionally, the level of spoken English seems to be rapidly improving particularly among the young people in Kazakhstan, where English is now learned from the first year of school. KIMEP (Kazakhstan Institute of Management, Economics and Strategic Research), where all classes are taught in English, is also located in Almaty.

Otherwise, if you are too lazy to actively alleviate your boredom, you will be pleased to know that they don't suffer the priggishness of "public consumption" laws and it's fairly common to see people drinking in the streets -- usually Baltika beer (Baltika 9 contains 8% alcohol). In fact, based upon what I have observed and heard, alcohol consumption in Kazakhstan seems to roughly follow Russia's problematic example, where men's tolerance for alcohol is only exceeded by women's tolerance of men.

Further to that smear, it has been explained to me that Borat's claim than in Kazakhstan horses can vote but women cannot is not entirely off the mark, and women here decidedly occupy a status submissive to men. Often, in the home they are expected to be subservient to their husbands, and in the workplace they often face discrimination and receive lower pay. And as far as Borat is concerned, Kazakhs quite rightfully despise Sacha Baron Cohen for his portrayal of their country, not only because it is largely grossly-inaccurate, but because the premise of the joke is the introduction of a relatively unknown country. Thus as a newly independent nation, Kazakhs feel they can be misrepresented and embarrassed in ways that more prominent countries cannot. The topic of Borat was mentioned scornfully and frequently in conversation here, and I ineffectively tried to explain that the joke is really about the ignorance of the audience and not aimed at Kazakhstan.

There is also certainly an overhanging presence of Soviet-style service, and several times I have received atrocious service in Almaty, where I was completely ignored by service people or service was extremely slow. Compounding bad service are high prices, and it is difficult to have a sit-down meal in Almaty for less than 10 to 15 USD and more often restaurants are grossly overpriced (Mad Murphy's pub offers a US$15 hamburger). By way of comparison, Almaty is bafflingly expensive when compared to China. One would think that an affluent city such as Almaty in such close proximity to China would benefit from the "China price" and prices would stay fairly low, but for limited transport, taxation, market protection, the shock of too much oil money, or by some other distortion prices are quite high. Generally speaking, Almaty delivers relatively little value per dollar spent.

Also, although not quiet so overt as in China, I found IP theft be alive and well.

Images of Almaty city seal and skyline from Wikimedia Commons.

Ethnicity in Kazakhstan

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Tue, 25 Sep 2007 14:51:00 +0000

One of the things I've found most charming about Kazakhstan is the extraordinary mix of people. I've read figures ranging between 120 and 160 distinct ethnic groups in Kazakhstan, although some of these groups are very small and may consist of only a few families. Of course, one wonders what criteria was used (presumably by the Russians) to define an "ethnic group" when a country as populous as China only recognizes 56 "official" ethnic groups.

According to this map and the 10 major ethnic groups that it charts, Almaty is primarily Kazakh and Russian, but it seems that there is a great deal of racial diversity and peoples of mixed ethnicity. From what I have observed, people of the Kazakh ethnicity tend to have distinctly Eurasian features that covers a broad spectrum of phenotypes and includes such exotic features as Asiatic faces with brown or blond hair and yellow, gray, and sometimes blue or green eyes. Likewise, there are people (presumably ethnic Russians) who appear more Caucasoid with blond hair, blue eyes, but who also might have more angular eyes and roundish faces that are more common to Asiatics. Okay, I know it's horribly politically incorrect to harp on the physical traits that define race and ethnicity and the next thing your know I'll be marching through the streets of Almaty with a pair of calipers to take measurements. Of course, I am only joking.

While Kazakhstan prides itself on its racial harmony, occasionally it does get out of control, as demonstrated in the story below. BTW, my hotel is above a pool hall, so I'll consider myself forewarned.

The unrest began March 17 with a fight over a game of billiards and ended with an attack on the house of a Chechen family that left five dead. Eyewitnesses say violence broke out in the village of Malovodnoye, about 80 kilometers east of Almaty, when Takhir Makhmakhanov, an ethnic Chechen from the neighboring village of Kazatkom, refused to concede defeat to his rival, Baurzhan Salimbayev, an ethnic Kazakh. After the two came to blows, Salimbayev left the billiards hall, but was chased by Makhmakhanov, who ran into him in a jeep and broke his leg, then shot him in the other leg.

The following day, Salimbayev went to the Makhmakhanov family home in the neighboring village with a convoy of some 50 carloads of supporters that besieged the house. Eyewitnesses say shots were fired from inside. In the ensuing fracas, nine people were injured. Three died that day and two more subsequently died after being hospitalized. Three of the dead were brothers of Takhir Makhmakhanov, who is now on the run. The Makhmakhanov family disputes this version of events, saying the attack was long planned and their house was fired on from the crowd.

Some 50 people have been arrested and face charges ranging from premeditated murder to hooliganism and damage to property. The incident was followed by rallies in which participants demanded the family’s removal from the village.

Additionally, race and ethnicity has become an issue in the post-Soviet era, and according to Lutz Kleveman, the capital was moved from Almaty to Astana partly to assert Kazakhstan's territoriality in the predominately ethnic Russian northern provinces (oblasks). Previously known as Akmola which means "holy place" or literally "white grave," Astana was given its present name meaning "capital" in 1994 when it was designated to be the future capital of Kazakhstan. From what I am told, while still a considerably less attractive city than Almaty, Astana has undergone a building boom in recent years. Funded by oil and gas revenues, large amounts of capital have been pumped into the city, new government buildings and and a new presidential palace has been constructed, and most significantly, young ethnic Kazakhs have been given housing and job incentives to move to Astana to alter the ethnic balance in the northern regions and ensure that it remains irrevocably part of Kazakhstan.

Post-OVIR Stress Disorder

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Mon, 24 Sep 2007 11:07:00 +0000

If you visit Kazakhstan, you must register with the local police at OVIR (pronouced "oh-veer"). This is also required in other countries such as China, but in China, your hotel (assuming you are staying in hotel designated to receive foreign guests) will kindly perform all of the paperwork for you and scan your passport into their computer (which I always find disconcerting). In Kazakhstan, this is something that a travel agency can arrange for you, and in fact, given my recent experience with OVIR, I would highly recommend sparing yourself the trauma of visiting OVIR and hiring an agent instead. Basically, visiting OVIR means long lines (more like amorphous swarms really), lots of waiting, and misdirection from smug officials who work short, irreggular, and apparently somewhat discretionary hours. For instance, on Friday, passports were to be returned at 5 PM, but they were an hour late getting started.

I did look into hiring a travel agency, but when I was given a quotation of KZT3000 (US$25), I balked and decided to do it myself, since the Lonely Planet said it should cost less than KZT800 (US$6.70). While it is occassionally useful to "know the ropes" and/or "be thrifty," this was a mistake that ended-up costing too much time and effort. If your registering with OVIR yourself, expect the process to take a minimum of 36 hours; however, if you use an agency, I have been told it is a single day process and you will save yourself the indignity of enduring unforgivable bureaucratic intransigence, hours waiting in an dimly lit concrete room without airconditioning, and being pressed into a throng of tired, sweaty travelers who are at least as desperate as you are to receive their registration papers. However, if you want a taste of legacy Soviet-style bureaucracy, OVIR just might be worth a visit before it is finally phased-out. As a local I met at OVIR told me, "We're used to it. We have no choice."

Scenes from Panfilov Park and observations

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Wed, 19 Sep 2007 10:55:00 +0000

The Zenkov Cathedral Designed by AP Zenkov, the cathedral is one of Amaty's only tsarist-era buildings to survive the 1911 earthquake. The cathedral is built entirely of wood and constructed without nails.

The park is named after the Panfilov Heroes, and specifically, the parks memorial and eternal flame commemorates the the 28 soldiers from Almaty among the troops who famously stopped the Nazi's advance at Moscow's gates. This enormous statue depicts soldiers from all 15 of the Soviet Union's provinces bursting forth from a back drop of a map of the USSR.

Before arriving in Almaty, I assumed that it would be more like Ulaanbaatur, but in fact, it's a far more civilized and wealthier place than UB. Within the city center, all of the roads are new and designed on an easily navigable grid, and the bus service is fairly reliable and perhaps the only bargain available in Almaty. Generally, I have found the people here to be quite friendly and well-educated, particularly the young people, many of who speak good English as it is taught in Kazakhstan beginning in the first year of school.

Generally, the city is very clean, the food is good, there is an acceptable range restaurants, the people are well-mannered (offering seats to women and the elderly is quite strictly practiced) and well dressed. Like UB, the women dress to kill, which may have something to do with the Soviet/Russian influence and perhaps the finest legacy of Russian imperialism. The city itself is subdued and feels far more European than Asian, with broad avenues lined with large oak trees. While I have received numerous warnings on safety from locals, but there is a substantial police presence in the streets and I do not believe it is much more dangerous than any other city of similar size (about 2.5 million).

On the south end of town, construction is booming, and there is a massive international financial district being constructed, with cranes lining the highway in every direction. Almaty is one of those places that has changed so fast that only the most up-to-date information is useful, and thus, my 2004 Central Asia Loneley Planet has been only marginally useful as the value of the currency has changed, some of the street names have reverted from Russian to Kazakh and new streets have been constructed, new hotels have opened and others have closed, prices have climbed, opening hours are different, etc.

Much of Almaty's boom is fueled by the natural resources boom that has brought-in a massive influx of foreign companies and investment, most prominently in the Kashagan oil field, which is the largest new discovery of oil in decades. Of course, there is an interesting (and well-known) story behind it, and for now, I will suffice to say that when I mentioned the country's new oil wealth to a local friend, she snapped, "Yes, but that's privately held!"

The Hotel Crapistan

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Wed, 19 Sep 2007 04:52:00 +0000

Well, it seems that the honeymoon is over in Almaty, and two days ago, I left the home of my hosts and checked into a hotel at the cost of KZT1400 (about US$11.50) per day, which is extraordinarily cheap by Almaty standards. I am not sure what the hotel's actual name is, but I have appositely nicknamed it the Hotel Crapistan on account of its remarkable resemblance to the Hotel Crapistan in New Falls, PA, which is one of my all-time favorites.

Back at the home of my hosts, the parents had just returned from a trip to Astana, and they brought with them a friend, which meant that the house was overcrowded. And by mutual agreement reached by a few exchanged broken key phrases, glances and gesticulation, we accepted that my invitation had reached its end, and I told them I planned to leave the next day.

My host's friend was an agreeable ethnic Russian woman, who could scarcely speak a word of English. We met as she stood inside my hosts' fenced-in yard smoking and I just returning from downtown Almaty, stepped through the gate. She immediately recognized me and burst out laughing, which indicated to me that there had been some discussion of my persistent presence in their house and that I had probably stayed longer than they expected. That night, we went to dimly lit, outdoor beer garden, where I believe the family wished to entertain their in-town guest, and they brought me along incidentally. There, we sat wrapped in blankets as we drank one beer apiece and dined on horse meat kebabs and some sort of Kazakh fried pancake with herbs and potato inside -- something between a pargogi and khuushuur. Interestingly, all of the children were allowed to drink from their parents' beer, and even the two year-old was offered a sip, which she smartly refused.

Anyhow, on Monday morning, I lugged my packed down the road to catch the 98 bus into town, and I booked a room at the Crapistan, where I am rooming with an ever shifting population of working class Kazakhs. In my room there are three beds, stained pastel yellow walls, gray peeling linoleum floor tiles, a toilet, a judicious quantity of food that sits rotting on common table, and my current roommates, Peter and Osmond, both evidently over sixty and tattooed simple men strangely forged under the loving finesse of the Soviet hand.

Peter, I believe is a bit crazy, and talks incessantly whether or not someone else is present and speaking with him. He has mad smile and his yellow teeth are neatly separated by the wide, regular spaces between them. He and I can converse a little in German, and he frequently mentions his children and grandchildren who live somewhere in Germany.

Osmond seems a bit more "with it" in an antisocial sort of way. The rotting food is his and when he awakes at 7 AM, he turns on the lights and doesn't even bother to turn them off when he leaves the room as Peter and I try to sleep. He also seems to be a fan of reading All Kriminal, which was a source of some concern to me when I first entered the empty room and surveyed my new roommates possessions, but he's harmless as long as I sleep with my wallet and camera under my pillow.

But I must say that in spite of our superficial differences, we do have somethings in common: we were all born and raised in areas with extreme levels of radioactive contamination, we've all spent the majority of our adulthood in prison, and we are unified in our belief that the television should be on at all waking hours. All joking aside, had I not spent so much time in China, I am not sure that I could quietly tolerate it.

Familial Kazakhstan

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Sun, 16 Sep 2007 07:29:00 +0000

One of the more interesting characteristics of Kazakh culture is its family or clan-orientation. Traditionally, in order to be a well-bred Kazakh, it was important to know one's foregoing family lineage for seven generations. Today, that is not strictly the rule, but the family remains highly central to Kazakh life.

The family of Russian-speaking ethnic Kazakhs that is currently hosting me has extended extraordinary hospitality to me for reasons that aren't entirely apparent. The immediate household consists of five people: father, mother, daughter (12), son (10), and daughter (2); however, the short time that I have spent with them I have been introduced to nine other members of their family, due to the fact that Kazakhs spend a great deal of time visiting their relatives at home, talking, drinking tea and engaging in different types of cooperative behavior such as child-rearing to car-pooling.

This tradition descends from the nomadic lifestyle, which was extinguished through the forced urbanization imposed by the Soviet Union. However, the clannishness of Kazakh society still persists and extends through daily life, and large families are desirable and seen as a source of prosperity. I read about this before I arrived in Kazakhstan, and in fact, due to the deprivations and oppression of Soviet life, clan-ties were forced "underground" but also strengthened by the necessities of survival. Nonetheless, while I expected this cultural trait, I was surprised by its pervasiveness and salience.

The family that I am staying with has been remarkably generous in not only inviting me into their house, but accommodating me to the point that I feel a bit embarrassed to be the subject of such undue attention. When I am at the house, every meal has been meticulously prepared and served, and generally, I've been enjoying a lot more service and horse meat than I am accustomed to.

On my first evening in Almaty, after an extremely long and tiring train ride from Urumqi, I was taken to the home of my host's sister. After passing through the gate, tired and disoriented, I was told to wait for a moment while the boy restrained the guard dogs, and then I was shuttled from the car in darkness to the front door of the cousin's large house. Inside, I met my hosts sister, a gynecologist, and her husband, a general in the police force, and their son (who speaks excellent English) and daughter.

There we dined from a large plate piled with large flat noodles (something like lasagna in size) topped with roasted horse meat. It was quite delicious, but I was somewhat disturbed by the fact that the man of the house seated next to me was picking at the noodles and meat with his hands, obviously messy and possibly unhygienic. Later I was informed that this dish was in fact a traditional dish called "beshbarmak," which means "five fingers" and is intended to be eaten thusly. Dinner was followed by tea, chocolate-covered fruits (a traditional Kazakh sweet), and a plate of dried apricots, raisins, almonds, and sugar-coated peanuts (a tradition imported from Turkey, I am told).

The children are extremely well-behaved, and collectively, the women and children perform all of the household chores. When the mother is away, the daughter (who speaks minimal English) awakes early in the morning to prepare breakfast, prepares dinner for me when I return in the evening and apologizes when my tea cup is empty. She also cleans the house in cooperation with her mother or any female relatives who happen to be there at the time. The boy also seems to take a great deal of responsibility for a 10 year-old and routinely tries to entertain me with computer games and DVDs or offers me sparkling water and iced tea. Both children are quite accomplished in ballroom dance, and they have proudly displayed to me their medals and photos of themselves in elaborate dance costumes competing on the dance floor.

Of course, Kazakhstan is still a predominately Muslim country, and I can hear the hypnotic call-to-prayer sung from the nearby mosque every evening around 9:30. However, it seems that Islam is practiced in Almaty like Catholicism is practiced in Milan -- quite sparingly. Still, the women of this family do have a particular regard for feminine modesty, and on occasion, the little girl has been told not to sit next to me (I am assuming this is the reason). Still, Kazakhstan is an extremely diverse country -- 50% Kazakh, 30% Russian and more than 120 other ethnicities guaranteeing a broad mosaic of behaviors and social norms.

From Almaty

noreply@blogger.com (VP) — Fri, 14 Sep 2007 10:03:00 +0000

The bus trip from Urumqi to Almaty was eventful as these things go. By the time we go the border at the Khorgos Pass, the other passengers (mostly ethnic Russians) had decided that they would be able to pass customs more quickly if they rerouted to a pass 40 km from Korgos, but there was a catch. I, as the only non-Kazakh and non-Chinese citizen on the bus could not enter at the alternative location. Thus, I was voted off the bus and passed-off to a Kazakh lady who was traveling with her two children. We went through customs at Khorgos without any difficulty and I ended-up staying the night a the family's home, which I will recount in more detail later. I had to leave my bag on the bus, because we were in traffic when I exited and I was told that the woman and her children also had left their things there. We met with her husband who drove us to Almaty and we arrived around 7:30 PM. The bus arrived with our things around 1 AM due to some complications with their "short-cut."

Almaty is much nicer than expected -- very leafy, comfortable and well-maintainted but ungodly expensive. I am having trouble finding a hotel for less than US$100. I am absolutely exhausted.