Meat on the Street

Meat on the Street: it's not just a great line in a Neil Young song (Freedom--Crime in the City: 1989), it's a consumer's reality in Uzbekistan. We didn't buy it this way, but we did eat it--restaraunts have to get it from somewhere. Besides, do you really know where the meat you get at Overwaitea is from? Talk to Don T' about the delicious dog-ka-bobs he ate in Thailand for a week before he asked the vendor what sort of meat it was.

Daniel and the Lion's Den

We did a little research before leaving for Uzbekistan back in March. One of the most curious bits of history that we stumbled across was an article claiming a tomb in Samarqand as the burial place of the prophet Daniel; as in “and the lion’s den?”

We instantly dismiss so many things in life. I walked away from the above claim thinking that are too many wack-jobs in academia.

But then we mentioned it to a very knowledgeable lady in our church and she said “That makes sense; I remember reading that Daniel was from Uz.” Uz, Uzbekistan. Ok. Maybe there’s something to it.

I read the Old Testament chapter named for him, but it only lists the places he had been prior to going, against his will, to Babylon, near Baghdad today.

As a prophet, Daniel and his cohorts interpreted King Nebuchadnezzar’s dreams, rising in social and court status with each accurate foretelling, culminating in today’s oft repeated (irritating and hackneyed) cliché “the writings on the wall.” The lion’s den thing and getting chucked in the furnace didn’t hurt his reputation, either.

But his tomb in Samarqand? What the heck? A glance at our wall map reveals the distance between Susa, Iran, where he probably died, and Samarqand, as only 1,500 miles, with no major obstacles in between. Remember: even from our apartment here in Almaty, Jerusalem is only 3,000 miles away. Baghdad, 2500, Kabul, Afghanistan 900, and the Swat Valley, Pakistan, where a million people have been displaced since the middle of April, 2009, is only 700 miles distant.

Wikipedia asserts that there are, indeed, six sites that maintain tombs in Daniel’s memory: Susa, Iran; Kirkuk, Iraq; Babylon, (not clear on the State); Egypt; Tarsus; and Samarqand, the only place that has an above ground coffin and a 700 year old, constant vigil. Emir Timur, a “unifying” leader for this entire region in the 1300’s, brought Daniel’s remains here from Iran while he was out checking to see how flexible the borders in Central Asia were at that time.

The pictures above were taken at the mausoleum we visited. The coffin has a green and gold silk or velvet covering that has been replaced countless times in the past 7 centuries. You’re encouraged to walk around it several times, meditating or praying. There were mullahs and men and young boys praying and chanting right behind the beautiful entry.

Don’t know if it is really true, but it’s interesting to reflect upon.

Camels, finally.

We have been here for 10 months and we finally saw a camel. We saw one in a field one day, but by the time we turned the car around, it was gone. Maybe it was a mirage.

Last weekend I met an American guy I sort of know at a cultural-craft fair. He was walking around with a cup of camel's milk. He said it was an "at the door" complimentary drink. He kept urging me to try it (he was actually trying to unload it). Finally I relented. Sour, thick, and oddly, gritty. But the curious thing is that it 'sparkled' like a dry champagne. I had an instant flashback to Uzbekistan--"Hey, I've had this before, but in the yogurt form!" A hostel we stayed at served us breakfast: bread, fruit, yogurt, and tea. Edna involuntarily gagged at the sight of the yogurt, claiming childhood trauma. The kids didn't buy in either. So I ate theirs. Sour, thick, and oddly, gritty. And it sparkled.

Astana, Kazakhstan

Astana, Kazakhstan. We took an overnight train to the capital city last weekend. Astana has supplanted Almaty as the capital city for the past 10 years. President Nazarbayev has cited several reasons for changing the locations, the most dramatic, hysteria-mongering excuse, in my opinion, is that Almaty is on an earthquake fault line.

World leaders are ego-maniacs. That’s not a generalization. You have to have an enormous ego, a surplus of courage, and a conveniently flexible conscience if you want to get into world politics. Here’s my rant:

Today, Astana is a planned, urban development. It has had a somewhat coloured historical past, not the least of it involving the U.S.S.R’s detention and rehabilitation “programs.” But in the past 10 years, it has been scraped out of the steppe and built up to a city of 300,000 people from a scant 25,000 on the periphery.

Nazarbayev moved the centre of politics up north so that he could “play with his blocks.” The pictures below depict, in a 180 degree perspective, the extravagance that can be achieved if you use your people’s money for your own whimsical selfishness. See the images below.

The first picture is the “President’s Residence.” Directly behind it are gardens and fountains and the Bayterak Tower, where, at the very top, you can “shake hands” with the President in this gold plated impression of his right hand.

If you look closely at this image, right behind the blue dome of the Nazar’s shack is “The Pyramid of Peace.” Edna and the kids are standing right at the base in this close-up. About the only thing I’ll give Nazar any credit for is hosting a conference for all of the world’s religious leaders to come to Astana once every three years to discuss religious harmony, tolerance, and appreciation. Not really clear what it is used for in the intermittent 1,000 days, though.

Flanked by two golden towers, Nazar’s house runs along a line of architectural and financial waste.

Why am I being so hard on him? Why don’t I criticise any of a number of capital cities for unnecessary opulence and vanity? Give me the money and I would travel anywhere and comment on social inequity. The tragedy involved with Nazar’s project is the glaring poverty that exists here. On the 12 hour train trip up to this shiny city, we passed countless hovels that still use outhouses, some within 5 minutes of Almaty. I appreciate that Canada doesn’t have a perfect record in some aspects of immigration and First Nations issues and International business, etc., but, unlike say, the ostentatious-ness of Kuwait City or Dubai or Abu-Dhabi, where the display is generated by oil wealth and doesn’t negatively affect the average citizen, here in Kazakhstan, it does.

We went to visit a drug and alcohol rehab centre that is operated by one of our colleagues before we went to Astana. It is operated strictly on donations of money and goods. They can only afford to house 18 people at a time. It costs about $100 a month to keep an addict for the six months that it usually takes to help them cope with reality. The government does not have any such program. Unless you have access to privilege. So, 97% of the citizenry don’t get help.

Before we arrived at the rehab centre, our friend drove us past one of the local prisons first. Just to set the mood. You honestly wouldn’t house your pets there if you were out of town for the week. Appalling. Inhumane. Etcetera. She kept stressing that most of them come out “feet first.” Tuberculosis, AIDS, murder.

She came here to Kaz from New Zealand to do this sort of work, because, she said simply “I’m a Christian and God told me to.” She paid $400 for her house and I think she got ripped off. It is so spartan, it would give Mother Theresa cause to reconsider. She helped raise another $5000 and bought about ten acres for the centre right next to her house. Again, the government doesn’t/won’t help.

We met some colourful characters at the centre. I won’t provide details because it is not the sort of thing that you reduce to an entertainment format. But we did shake hands with a guy who was pronounced dead at a hospital and left with a toe-tag for six hours until Jesus sent him back. This anecdote may also speak to the quality of the medical staff.

What does this have to do with Astana? Waste. Inequity. Vanity. I’m not preaching, I’m commenting. For a hundred bucks a month, Dorothy and her crew can save a life. The money that is generated in a day by going up Nazar’s tower so you can shake his “golden hand” would easily cover the costs of the rehab clinic for a month.

Maybe I’m getting old. Next I’ll be telling my kids about the war, or something. Astana will only immortalize President Nazarbayev for a few generations. Feeding his people, not his ego, would make him more of a memorable leader.

We’ve committed ourselves to helping Dorothy and her program stay afloat. If you would like to get involved, let us know.

Astana, Kazakhstan--Part 1

Astana, Kazakhstan

The DBC: Dave Broadcasting Corporation

We're not really going to Tehran. Relax. As with all news medium, believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear.

Soviet technology

Hiking in Almaty

We went hiking last weekend in Almaty. These trails were about a 40 minute drive from our apartment. It was a beautiful day and we went out for about 4-5 hours. Kyla and Cody did really well. But the real test was if Kyle and Amanda (non-parents) would still like us after hanging around with little kids. Kyle is from Texas and he finds all the trails around this area and he takes everyone out if they want to go. Amanda is a fellow Canadian from Ottawa. She is going to Prague next year--we are a little jealous.

In the top image, near the centre, are some wild horses--at least we think they‘re wild. This is a National Park.

Language Challenge

Not sure why this particular sign caught my attention--there is always something hanging on the main door of the apartment. But I thought this one might be worth getting translated. It was a good thing too--it says there will be NO hot water for 5 days. Needless to say, everyone had a shower that night. But for some reason they never shut the hot water off. In the past, they shut the hot water off for a couple of days and didn’t notify anyone. The worst experience was when we only had scalding hot water for 2 days. It was much worse than no hot water.

Geocaching.com

A City of 2 million people and there is only 1 Geo-cache in the whole place. We went out with another family and we had fun finding it but now the goal is to set up a few more. The question is…will they find it between all the garbage? Don’t know what a geo-cache is? Check out geocaching.com. While you’re there, click on "Hide & Seek A Cache," zip down to the botton where it says "by Keyword," enter the name "Cheslatta," then click "Get a booter at Cheslatta." It's our cache in Northern B.C. There's a few nice pictures. We named it in honour of our friend Grace.

"Hi Grace! You must be getting a lot of booters at this time of year, eh?"

Wacky Day

A WACKY DAY at school. These are a couple of teachers at AIS with Kyla on Wacky Day. They had a great time and one of the fun things about this day is walking out to your car dressed badly. People are very fashion conscience here--maybe not by our standards, but they always dress well. So when they see people like these three, they really do a double take.

Kyla's Birthday

Kyla’s b-day was in April but somehow I have not published any pictures of “the cake.” There was a lot of cake eating so I made one that she could share with her classmates and then we bought one to share with friends. They don’t taste that great here, but there were a few tears over the thought that we might not buy a fancy decorated cake.

It’s very difficult to have a b-day party in an apartment if you live in a big city. So Kyla invited a couple of friends for a sleep-over. Not too much sleep occurred but they had lots of chips, playing, chips, gifts, chips, a movie, and more chips.