Birthday 09

Hey Veenies, look closely at the photos below. We had a pretty big party at our apartment for my 43rd birthday. A perennial challenge here in Almaty is finding an address or trying to explain to a Russian or Kazakh speaking taxi driver where you want to go. We use a lot of hand-drawn maps because, for example, after being here for 8 months, we still don’t know the name of the street we live on. The whole block is called Mamyer and it’s broken up into numbered parcels that makes sense to everyone but ex-pats.

So our “invitation-map” had lots of arrows and buildings for reference, but the final marker was that great bright red Canadian hockey jersey that you guys gave me, hanging in the window. We’re already known in the neighbourhood as the cana-dee-ans--now it’s official.

We had friends from South Africa, Siberia, Eastern Russia, The States, New Zealand, and of course, several from Canada. Numerous of them have made several “stops along the way” in their careers. Of the 50 people on our teaching staff, we are the least interesting in terms of cultural experiences. Last night, there were representatives here from every one of the ‘stan’ countries, several from Africa, one from Venezuela, and one elderly lady who was born in Turkmenistan during the height of the Soviet Empire (she was a bit mysterious about that).
In June, four of our teaching peers are moving to Chennai, India, two are going to Bratislava, Slovakia, two are going Sanna, Yemen, and one is going to Prague. The family we had Christmas dinner with in Thailand are moving north to Atyrau, (otherwise considered the armpit of Kazakhstan).
Everyone is from somewhere else or they are going somewhere else. When I was in Vancouver last week, a few people asked me what I thought was the best part of this “project.” Without hesitation I always respond in the same way: the dinner conversations. We have met so many interesting people who have worked in such obscure places and I never really get tired of listening to their stories.

Here’s one: this couple we work with lived in Azerbaijan for two years--very fundamentalist Islamic place. They were walking through the open bazaar and James said “Wow! Look at this place. You could buy anything here. Probably even opium.” His wife was horrified that he said that out loud so she kind of shoved him and told him to be quiet. In a micro-second, one of the male vendors whipped off his belt and gave it to James, suggesting he use it to keep his woman in line. Edna took away all my belts.

We had a great party last night even though we may have a offended a few Kazakh traditionalists. They’re very superstitious. Apparently, it’s considered bad luck to have a birthday party before your actual birthday. But I’m still alive. My head really hurts though.

Have a great weekend everyone. Congratulations Brad and Laurie! (Brad: I taught Kyla to say “Boys are Bad!“ as soon as she could string together a sentence--it’s never too early to start.)
Pax, Dave

Down Hill Skiing

Outdoor activities are hard to come by and something we have really missed. When Dave went back to Canada last week he managed to find some used ski equipment for the kids and he took some of ours back to Kazakhstan too. We have made it up to the hill twice and the kids are doing really well. All the X-country ski lessons have paid off.

Winter Sports

We are back in Kazakhstan from Thailand and Cody is busy praying for snow. The other morning we had some fresh snow--maybe a half inch. Cody says to Dave, “My prayers have been answered! “ He is so excited to see snow and right now it is very hard to find a white patch. It is an abnormally warm year but we do know that could change quickly.
So, when we got back from Thailand we did get a couple of inches of snow and we did manage a few days of sledding. You can see on their faces that Kyla and Cody had a great time.

Employment Posting--Kazakh Human Rights Watch: Director Required, Urgently

Two blurry photos. No one has really been able to explain this to us, but there exists in Kazakhstan, an underlying layer of, how can I say, gender inequity. In the six months that we have been here, we’ve never seen a female police officer. And the politicians are all male. It’s obviously a historical and cultural trait and I won’t get into a big debate about it, but I do have to share these photos with you.

In BC we have those N’ and L’ stickers for new and learning drivers. Look closely at the photos above. Yes: that is a sticker of a woman’s high heel in the rear window of a car, indicating that the operator is female! Is that outrageous? All of the staff at The Kazak Human Rights Commission must have been at the police station paying 'fines' on the day that this by-law was passed, because (without the data) I am convinced there isn’t a country on this planet that would tolerate such injustice. The true irony is, most Kazaks are shitty drivers.

Now look at these blurred images. A chocolate bar for men.

On the back, there is one of those red-circle-with-a-bar-through-it icons. Guess what’s being barred? Yup: women. It’s not pro-gay, it’s just blatantly anti-women.

Turkey in Thailand (sort of)

We met some of our American friends for turkey dinner on Christmas Day. But we had seafood. And the kids had hamburgers. And it was in an open-air restaurant. The staff wore Santa hats and they played carols in the background; it was great fun, but it wasn’t quite the same as turkey at Tina’s.

December 26, 2004

A more sombre note: December 26,th 2004--the fourth anniversary of the tsunami that devastated so many Bay of Bengal communities. There was an candlelight ceremony and Buddhist prayer shrines set up in the centre of Patong Beach, in the evening. Hundreds of people milled about, looking at sand-sculptures adorned with candles, incense, and photos of missing victims.

The actual atmosphere at the site wasn’t as depressing as I thought it would be. Perhaps I was somewhat prepared before we got there because so many local people wanted to relate their stories to us throughout the day. Here are a few: I asked the lady that we rented beach chairs from where she was when the wave(s) came in. She pointed to the left a little and said “Right there.” The first wave picked her up and pushed her into a concrete retaining wall. She broke her wrist, but didn’t lose any family members. All of her chairs, umbrellas and her cantina went out to sea when the water retreated.

Another guy showed me where his friend had a massage station set up at the beach. He said that she always stashed her day’s revenue in a tin box under the sand. When they found her body tangled in electric lines in the basement of the hotel across the street, she had her tin box with her. He speculated, visibly grieved, that had she not spent time retrieving her money, she might have had time to climb at least one flight of stairs.

A Swedish family that stayed in the hotel with us said they met a guy who went to Bangkok to visit his dad the day of the tsunami. He reportedly lost a lot of friends and he told them that when he goes to the beach, four years later, he can’t take his eyes off of the horizon for fear of what may come in. But this last photo provides the sort of optimism that can be overlooked at these events: the flags of all of the countries that helped the Thai people during this time. Kyla thought it was cool that the Canadian flag was so near the top of the monument, right beside the Thai Flag.

Moped Madness

This is the beach drive in downtown Patong. During the day it is relatively busy, but at night you hardly think of it as a road because it is filled with shoppers, sellers, gawkers, and hawkers. They had a sort of community carnival the week that we were there, so every evening there would be live music, an art show, or a procession of some sort.

These photos of mopeds are somewhat manipulated: there was a parade one night and the traffic behind it was help up for a while, so after the last float went through I waded out into the middle of the ‘brummers’ as Edna kept calling them, and took a few photos. Notice how they hardly care that I am standing in the middle of the road?

We rented one every other day, for about $6. One day we splurged and rented two, and I carried the kids while Edna followed and we covered about 80km. Great way to see the island. Cody honestly thought he could count all the mopeds he saw, but even that character in Rain-man couldn’t have kept track of them all; they’re everywhere. You can buy a one litre bottle of Pepsi full of gas from just about anyone on the side of the road for .80 cents and continue on your way; we never stopped at a gas station in 10 days.

High finances, though: I got a$9 fine for not wearing a helmet one night, and Edna was charged $15 for breaking the right hand mirror “clean off” when she dumped her first (and apparently, last) motorbike. Mel, Sid and Rich: you failed your sister by not letting her use your dirt-bikes when you were kids.