It is a well-known fact that taxi drivers around the world can smell foreign currency, and thus my welcoming in Almaty was ordained. Apparently there is an app called Yandex Go that you are supposed to use here (like Kazakh Uber), so I was using it to look for a taxi. But before I could do that, a younger man appeared from thin air to ask if I needed a ride. I must commend his ridiculous persistence. I shrugged him off two or three times before we came to a suitable agreement. In that way I felt like I was back in the dimly-lit, claustrophic markets of Tunisia, where buying anything required approximately seventeen minutes of back and forth haggling and a calculator app.
First this driver told me that I wanted business class Yandex, and I said no, just economy, go away. Then he said ohhh, ok, you are smart, you want meter. And I looked at him and said no, not even close, not a chance, please go away. Then he again tried to sell me the business class, and I said: no way man, go away, I will find someone else. Perhaps a less experienced traveler would have capitulated, but I have played the airport taxi game before and lost, so fool me twice and all that. Ultimately, the (by now) dejected driver agreed to the normal economy class Yandex taxi. It cost me about 10,000 Kazakh Tenge, which seemed like a fair enough price. So off we went.
Almost immediately my driver veered off from the major road and onto these very obscure back roads, which I felt was somewhat hilarious. We were driving by farmhouses and derelict cars which made this world seem like Eastern Europe. It is interesting I thought this considering I have never been to Eastern Europe, but I guess post-Soviet states must all look alike in some capacity. We sped aggressively through these windy rural roads for some time until he turned around and yelled: where are you from? And I said California, United States, and he did not understand me at all, but he did understand when I said America. We then proceeded to have the most broken, unintelligible conversation possible, but the passion was there. Despite his earlier attempts to cajole me into paying more, he ended up being extremely friendly and interesting. We talked at length about our various lives by using Google Translate back and forth (he was not so worried about watching the road while driving), and I was able to get across that I was here to volunteer teach English. At which point he got very excited! He turned to me (not looking at the road) and said, I student. He ended up dropping me at my hotel in one piece and took my number before speeding off. I have no idea what he meant to accomplish with my contact, but I will consider that my first friend on this trip.
Breakfast For One and a New Friend
The next morning before checking out I went down for my free breakfast and was greeted by a very nice older lady who presumably did all of the breakfast for everyone. She ended up hand cooking me my own meal, and it was– really good? I don’t think I have ever had an included breakfast like this anywhere. I think she only spoke Kazakh too, which was unfortunate because the only few words I know are in Russian. But we played the smiling and laughing game which seems to be the universal language among friendly people everywhere.
After that I caught another Yandex taxi to the train station in Almaty, where I spent a half-hour extremely overwhelmed and anxious, because I guess I get like that sometimes. Consciously I know it’s just a train station and it can’t be that complicated, but hey I worry sometimes.
I ended up finding the correct train, and with help from the train officers (?) I was guided to my compartment and bed. They were very helpful! So far in Kazakhstan people have been pretty kind and helpful on average.
It was here on this train I ended up making my first real friend on this trip, a 22 year old student named Daulet (English: Dow-lee-yet, the ordinary Russian ‘e’ makes the sound ‘ye’). This guy ended up becoming my best friend on the train. He was literally the only person on the train who spoke any serious English, and he helped facilitate conversations with others. He was also very helpful in explaining how the Kazakh sleeper trains work, what with the pillow casings and various sheets. We talked at length about his schooling and other various facets of his culture, and he told me all of the people in our carriage were very excited by my presence. Apparently I am the first American a lot of these people have seen!
After this I slept for almost seven or eight hours. I would occasionally wake up and catch a glimpse of the sun catching the steppe, which I thought was beautiful. Pretty empty, but beautiful in its own way. The guy across from me, a different kid, gave me an apple, and I peaked when I said, это яблоко? (‘is this an apple’), to which he said да. That was probably one of the ten words I learned on Duolingo.
After waking up for good at some point and debating whether or not to try and order dinner, I decided I must. So I went to the café car and they spoke to me in Russian and I managed to communicate that I cannot communicate and somehow obtained a menu. At this point, as fate would have it, Daulet also magically appeared in the café. I mean the odds on this were certainly not even. But anyways he sat down with me and helped me order, and I got this pretty good take on chicken tenders, but like fancier. Had some sort of rich butter sauce on the inside, and overall it was pretty good.
After eating Daulet told me- speaking to the woman who ran the café carriage- that she wanted a photo and video of me, which I found hilarious. I consented and got a photo, and before we shot the video Daulet communicated she wanted me to talk about how much I like the train, and I was thinking oh like they love the idea I like Kazakhstan. And then he kept going on about mentioning the name of the company and how good the food and service was… at which point I realized they wanted me to film an advertisement for them! I agreed on the sole basis of why not. The idea other people would see this on Kazakh social media struck me as very funny.
Daulet and I stayed and hung out for the next two or three hours playing cards and drinking tea. At one point we got kicked out of the café to go play somewhere else, so we went to this dining compartment with tables, and not long after we got kicked out of there too. So at this point we called it a night and went back to our respective rooms.
About an hour later, to make twelve total, my train arrived in Karaganda. Daulet helped me get all of my stuff out and walked it with me to the front of the train station where I could find a taxi, and from there I was off to my new apartment.