Sand and snow angels.

In Almaty, we can make snow angels and sand angels.

The Singing Sands Pt. 1

This is one of the Singing Sand Dunes. It's a site inside Altyn-Emil National Park, about 400km from our house. We had to pay for a guide to be with us at all times, for safety and for directions. We drove about 300kms inside the park and we didn't see one other vehicle. Why didn't we see anyone? Because the park is 520,000 hectares in size. Isn't that a million acres? In the exact centre of this image are three tiny dots. Those are our 4x4's. That's how high we are, standing on a sand dune.

We walked along this ridge of sand, single-file, so that we could get to...

...this peak. On the way there, we heard the sand singing. (More about that later.)

Those 'ants' in the upper left corner are us, walking back. Even though it is a desert setting, there is an enormous river in the valley below--kind of like the Nile.

The Singing Sands. Pt. 2

This is Kyla and Cody, climbing up the first sand dune. This image is worthy of clicking on in order to enlarge it, just to get a sense of the scale of the dune.

Three days later, we were still cleaning sand out of our ears, pockets, and teeth.

There are only 10 sites in the world where the sand can sing: China, Russia, Saudi Arabia, and the U.S. The sounds can range from organ music to jet engine turbines at low idle. Physicists explain it as a combination of dry friction and crystal static electricity at play.

But local ethnic Kazakhs have their own interpretations for the singing. Some assert that there is an evil angel trapped inside while others insist it is an "enchanted beauty."

Others claim that if you reach the top of the highest dune, a "cherished dream" will come true, but if you get lost in the attempt, you are undoubtedly a great sinner. We all made it.

We heard the singing 3 or 4 times, but only for a few seconds. It sounded like something in-between a jet engine and the sound little kids make when they pretend to be ghosts. Rebecca claimed that she felt a micro-wave vibration. The most curious thing was that we couldn't agree on the direction, exactly, of where it was coming from.

These are the Red and White Mountains. There were no other people within hundreds of km's of us. One of our friends, Streeter, said that he had never been so 'far away' from anything in his life.

This is the gang: the Chartrands are American (via Quebec in the 1700's) and Streeter. His mom is American (via Holland). He claims that his name is a Dutch word, but he doesn't know what it means. We're just impressed that they wanted to go on holiday with kids: out of 36 hours, we spent 12 bouncing through the desert, covered in sand and dust. Maybe they'll never do it again.

We fouled the carburetor with dust (causing a significant delay) and there was sand in our ears, eyes, and hair for a few days.

Fall Break

Our Fall Break arrived! A whole week off so we went to do some exploring. Sounds easy, but here in Kazakhstan, it isn't. The plan was to go to the Altyn Emel State National Natural Park. After about 20 in-conclusive phone calls--and that isn't an exaggeration--we decided to go and accept that whatever happened would happen. No one knew if the park would be open, how to book a hotel, or how long it would take to get there. Also, if we got there and wanted to stay another night, we would have to book it here in Almaty. They said that they would not take cash in the park--we had a very hard time believing that. We left on Monday morning and Kyla and Cody were amazing for how much driving we did--it was extremely bumpy.

This was the Director General Kurmanaliyev Sauytbek Kurmanaliyevich's office at the gateway to the park--we even met the man. He had to sign the papers that allowed us to enter the park. They had no problem taking our money--even though they spoke no English. It took us about 5 hours to get to the park. We stopped about 6 times for instructions, bought gas whenever we saw a station (they're very sparse) and were pulled over once by the police. But once in the park, we had a guide with us at all times. No: he didn't speak english.

There are always horses on every road trip.

We are on our way to the White and Red Mountains and the Singing Sand Dunes--it was very dry.

Finally, we made it to the Red & White Mountains

I know--Another Hike but not just Scenery this Time!

The weather here has been so great so we feel quite obligated to get out there and enjoy it before the winter starts and the pollution becomes so thick that we can't see the mountains.

Dave thought this motor bike was great--I guess it is all in the eye of the beholder.

The goat on the upside down car--now that looks pretty comfortable--I tried to bribe Kyla, 5 dollars, to go stand next to the goat but she wouldn't have anything to do with that idea.

We went on this hike on Sunday--it was a pretty great place--about 45-minutes to an hour to the top. It must of been quite the maintained hike in it's day b/c there were even paved trails in some places but like usual the place got a little run down.

The stairs kind of say it all--Kyla and Cody went up to this first platform on their own while we were waiting for someone to pass us on the trail.

At the top of this trail there were natural hot springs. There was a small steel shed at the top that covered the spring and you had to wait your turn to go in there--not too inviting but there was a line-up. We passed and enjoyed the sun and snacks.

Friday Nights

Not sure if it will last all year but due to the fact that we live so close to the school this year we have Friday Happy Hour after school. The house is less than a 5 minute walk from the school so it only seemed right to Dave to host the poor souls at school who may have had a rough week or anyone who would love to get together for a beer and a good laugh and if he can help it--"NO SHOP TALK!" All ages are welcome!

The Last Apple Entry

This will be the last comment on the recurring theme of apples in this blog. It's just such a pervasive object in this city. Everytime we go outside, we see something to do with apples in less than 10 minutes.

The wild ancestors of Malus domestica (above) are Malus sieversii, which are found growing wild in the mountains of Central Asia in southern Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Xinjiang, China,[5] and possibly also Malus sylvestris.[6] (wikipedia)

The proverb "An apple a day keeps the doctor away," addressing the health effects of the fruit, dates from 19th century Wales. Research suggests that apples may reduce the risk of colon cancer, prostate cancer and lung cancer. Compared to many other fruits and vegetables, apples contain relatively low amounts of Vitamin C as well as several other antioxidant compounds. The fiber content, while less than in most other fruits, helps regulate bowel movements (that's for you, Kevin Veenstra) and may thus reduce the risk of colon cancer. (wikipedia)


After hiking this weekend, and tripping over thousands of apples laying about in unattended orchards, we went shopping in a new shopping mall--called Aport Mall, aports being the primogeniture of all apples.

Ok. The final apple anecdote. Why is the Apple Computer Co. called "Apple?" Because, in 1968, Steve Jobs, one of the founders of the company, was here in Almaty (formerly Alma-ata: "grandfather of apples,") to see the Beatles, whose first albums were produced under the label "Apple Records." True story.

The last apple entry.

Another Hike

We hike a lot. But there are a lot of people here who like to go to the mountains. Nearly every Monday somebody comes to work with a story about hiking. This past weekend, 4 Americans we work with hiked 16km's in 7 hours. They were blistered and complaining of hip damage, but they were still smiling. It was surprisingly cool at altitude this Saturday: wet snow and frost. And, yes, that's an apple tree the kids are standing in front of.

Hike cont.

Shopping cart surprise.

You're not left to wonder if it is fresh or not because you can see the blood dripping out of it onto the floor. How, exactly, do you wash a shopping cart?

Harvest Moon

Last spring, the kids and I planted some potatoes in the garden at school. It's actually our third year in a row: two years at the school's green house in Grassy Plains, and one year here. And then we inherited James Marten's pumkin patch--he didn't die, he moved to Albania on the last day of school. Thanks, James. And thanks to the school's gardener for taking care of them for us this summer. On Monday, Cathy deColme, a fellow Canadian, gave us some homemade pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving.

I told Cody this is what would happen if he ate too much candy after trick-or-treating next week.