Map Park!

Map Park is fantastic! I completely recommend it to any and all visitors to Astana. I'm just upset that I never visited it sooner.

We took the entire elementary school on a field trip to Map Park this past Friday, 23rd September, as part of their units on Kazakhstan. (Every grade has a Social Studies unit on "Host Country" and we chose to all study Kazakhstan at the same time.)

Map Park is located behind Duman, the place with the aquarium. Duman is across from Mega (the big mall) so it's easy to find; everyone knows where Mega is.

I'd passed by Map Park many times without knowing what it is; it's also not on a main road. So if you go looking for it, find Duman, and go behind it.

We walked there from the school and took a short-cut through Duman's parking lot, and we ended up going through a fence. This happens a lot in Astana, you end up trekking through dirt or trenches or construction or holes in fences.

The ticket price is 200 Tenge ($1.35) for children, 400 Tenge for adults, so really cheap. And most signs are in Russian, English, and Kazakh.

Map Park is basically what it sounds like it is - a park that's also a map. It's like a large map of Kazakhstan. You enter in the southwest, near the Caspian Sea. There were wooden ducks floating on the water.

In southwestern Kazakhstan, there are apparently some white mountain-like structures. In the park, they appeared as large white rocks, with steps on one, quite fun to climb on and several meters tall.

My Lonely Planet book does not mention these; however, a quick search through all sections on the south and west show that there are some huge chalk rock structures (one is 323 meters high), so I'm guessing that's what those white mountains were.

The southwest is where there are necropolises and other surreal things, according to my Lonely Planet, and I need to find the time to read more about this. Map Park made it look so fascinating--white mountains, caves, etc.

We wandered around the Caspian Sea, seeing fake flamingos (and some people saw fake seals). Map Park contains miniatures of dozens of Kazakh cities, with dollhouse-sized buildings that are quite fascinating. We saw mosques, Russian Orthodox churches, Russian-style architecture, government buildings, cottages, train stations, etc. We also saw lots of sites for drilling oil, as oil is a big business in Kazakhstan, especially near the Caspian.

The Left Bank of Astana was on a raised platform; underneath it were drawings of different parts of Kazakhstan, plus "Barbie dolls" dressed in different national clothings; plus exhibits showing different parts of Kazakh history.

The Left Bank is the new part of Astana, the part that has been planned in great detail and rivals Dubai, some say. A miniature version of it is quite impressive. Keep in mind that these mini buildings were the size of enormous dollhouses, so still small compared to the real thing but impressive and awesome nonetheless.

We saw the Right Bank of Astana, the older part, with Republic Street. Children excitedly pointed out where they lived or where their parents worked. And they were quite disappointed that our school wasn't there. (Our school's on the Left Bank.)

We then went to Almaty, and the fake snow-capped mountains looked rather real. I recognized the amazing Orthodox Church that can be found in Panfilov Park.

Overall, it was a very fun experience, and the children very much loved it. Most everyone was chattering excitedly, despite the chilly weather.

Some people found an area where other countries were represented; I never saw this and now I need to go back! I also need to go back without children, so I can take the time to read the signs. Every building was numbered, and signs explained what each building was, in Russian, Kazakh, and English, but the children wouldn't let me stop long enough to read these.

And I'm having trouble right now uploading pictures; hopefully I'll get that fixed soon, since the pictures make it look fantastic!

Do you have size 41?

My shoe size is 9 1/2 in the US, which is a 41 here in Astana (also in Europe, that's my shoe size). Although slightly larger than the average American woman's shoe size, I usually don't have a problem finding my size in the US.

But here in Astana, it's a different story.

Sophia was at a 24-hour birthday party/sleepover, so I decided to use the time to go shoe-shopping. I'd already looked briefly in some stores in the nearby malls Mega and Sariarka; the one shoe I'd found that I'd like was not available in size 41.

This time I went to Artyom, the large, crowded mall, with 6 floors. The bottom floor is an overcrowded food bazaar--mostly fruits and vegetables and spices, very mouth-watering to observe if the crowd doesn't bother you. The top floor is mostly furniture, two restaurants, and a bunch of tailors and hair-cutting places. (A co-worker had her hair cut for 800 Tenge - about 5 1/2 dollars.) The middle floors are full of stores that look like glass-walled cubicles--tiny, cramped, hundreds of them. And at least one full floor devoted mostly to shoes, with other shoe stores on other floors.

Next to Artyom is the remnants of what used to be one of the larger, outdoor bazaars. I learned that several years ago, as Astana grew larger, the bazaar was moved further away. But pieces of it remains, in crowded one-story, shack-styled buildings, and next to the parking lot, and even sellers on the streets. I've found better deals there than at the actual bazaars.

I went first to the place where I'd had luck before finding shoes. Two years ago I bought comfy, somewhat fashionable, fur-lined size 41 winter boots, which lasted a full year before falling apart. For under 6000 Tenge - $40 - they were worth it.

I was looking for shoes to wear as my indoor shoes at school during winter, something fashionable and nice. There were plenty of options. But I soon learned that no one had size 41.

As I went from store to store, I became much more adept at saying, "U vas yest sorok-pervy?" Or "Do you have 41?" (Actually, I said 41st, for some reason when I said 41, they usually answered me with the word for 41st.)

Several sellers found me a shoe, insisted I put it on, and when I did and noticed it was too tight, I checked the size--they had given me a size 40. This happens all too often. One seller even sprayed some foamy stuff into the shoe, swearing that this would make it fit.

Artyom must have hundreds of shoe stores, and none that I found had my size in anything remotely attractive. A few did have one or two hideously ugly shoes in size 41.

Really? Is my shoe size that hard to find?

Last year at the big outdoor bazaar, I'd run into the same problem--sellers attempting to sell me size 40s. When I'd finally found what I wanted in size 41, I was thrilled--and bought it immediately.

This time, I left Artyom and headed in the direction of Zhannur, a mall. On the way I stopped into a shoe store that was advertising 50% off. The prices were rather high, so even with 50% off, they weren't that cheap.

They found an okay-looking size 41, but it was much too large. So I tried on a size 40, which actually wasn't too tight. The man gave me a greater-than-50% discount, so for about $40 I picked up a pair of shoes.

If my feet were a half-size smaller, I could have found something good for $20. Oh well.

The Exploding Light Bulb

It didn't really explode, although it looked like it did. This morning, Sophia was sitting on the couch, eating breakfast, when I turned on the lights. We have a chandelier in the living room as well as something that may perhaps be called "track lighting" - multiple small lights in the ceiling, in a line.

I heard a noise, sparks flew, and one of the small light bulbs fell and bounced off Sophia's head. There were enough sparks and enough noise to really have me worried. Sophia sat in stunned silence for a short while.

She was fine, just stunned. The sparks didn't cause a fire, and amazingly, the light bulb is in one piece.

This has happened before, but never on Sophia's head. Light bulbs in Kazakhstan aren't content to simply die, they must go out with a bang.

Church in Russian

My Kazakh friend, R., is Christian, and attends a small non-denominational church with its headquarters in Almaty, and most of the congregation is of Korean descent (yet Kazakhstan citizens & Russian speaking).

Yes, most Kazakhs are Muslim, similar to how most French are Catholic--it's part of their ethnicity but they don't necessarily practice. (It's incredibly rare to see a Muslim in full Muslim dress -- burqua etc. In fact, you're just as likely to see a nun as a woman in a burqa.) However, for the few Kazakhs who have converted, it has been a big deal. It took some time for my friend to convince her family that she's still a good person, even though she's a Christian.

I attended service with her once; it is one hour of singing and then one hour of preaching. The children are pulled out during the preaching part for more kid-friendly activities. Sophia thoroughly enjoyed that hour, despite it being in Russian, and has asked repeatedly to return.

My friend does not mind driving her, and so I have let her go several times (as often as logistics work out). Last spring they had a small "Children's Fair", where they sang and danced and played games, and they bought prizes with "talents" -- tickets earned by answering questions correctly during Sunday school. The children also each got a present and a nametag with a special nickname. I was quite pleased to see that Sophia was remembered--her nickname was "Angel" and her present was a picture frame. She was quite happy.

So this year she has asked to go again, and she went this morning. Today they have "homework"--a worksheet with Bible verses and other activities, which she is completing with her friend.

But I won't let her off the hook for Catholic church, at least not completely. There are times when I go to the Russian-language Mass in the mornings, at the same time she goes with her friend to her service. But there are also times which we go to the English-language Mass in the evenings. She is quite content to attend church two times. And today is the second time that her friend is going to both. In fact, she pretty much begged her mom to stay with us, even if that means going to church twice in one day.

I think it's amusing that my child and her friend beg to go to church twice in one day. I know it's not so much for the church as for the friendship, but still. I'm glad they're willing to go twice. And I hope that the exposure to a friendly Russian-language environment will help her with her Russian. I'm amazed at the difference between our friend's church and our previous school--both Russian speaking environments where Sophia was different. At our old school, she was excluded, and the teachers didn't try to appear as if they cared. At this church, she is included. The kids are very friendly and accepting, and the teachers work hard to make sure Sophia is included. It's a nice environment.

Yes, my landlords are crazy

I love my apartment. It's beautiful, well-furnished & supplied, and has good-quality furniture too. Even after the landlord came and took a lot of stuff away last spring, I still have plenty of stuff. I love the location. It's a short walk to two malls, a short walk to the school, and I'm on the first floor. Sophia can go outside and play or ride her bike and I can stay inside and still keep an eye on her. We're right above a mini-mart which stocks enough supplies to keep us happy during the winter. (No peanut butter, of course, but few stores sell that.)

I wish I had a dishwasher and I wish I could open my windows during the hot summer nights, without worrying about someone climbing in. (We're on the first floor, it'd be very easy to climb inside our apartment, and it's very noticeable when our windows are open!)

But, I'm happy with it.

My landlords, however, are weird. Not weird enough to make me want to move. More like quirky, bothersome, annoying weird. I didn't like my landlady from my previous apartment, either, but in a different way. I knew she was tight with money, unhappy, and didn't like me because I didn't speak Kazakh. In the end, I grew more comfortable with her, understanding that she just doesn't like spending 1 Tenge on anything, so she'll complain about everything.

But these guys... I think the man is nice and friendly, it's his wife who's weird. She's the one who came and raided my house for supplies twice when they moved back to Astana last year. She's the one who hounded our poor secretary this past June, begging to know when my cleaning lady would be in, so she could give her a huge list of things to do over the summer. "Who'll pay my cleaning lady for these tasks?" I asked the secretary. "You," she said.

Well, I got the secretary to tell them that since I was packing, I was too busy to answer their questions, and so they never told my cleaning lady to do any tasks. Amazingly, they came in this summer to do them themselves.

In my clean, beautiful home, they painted all areas that weren't wallpapered (and the paint wasn't cracked, peeling, or dirty at all). They took down the blinds & curtains and cleaned them. They did NOT attempt to fix the huge draft coming in from the windows that causes the place to feel like Antarctica in the winter. So, superficial changes. Nothing actually needed.

When I returned home, at midnight, I noticed that they had not replaced all of my curtains. They had all summer, and hadn't gotten around to finishing the job! The thick curtains in my bedroom were missing, as well as a few blinds. I only had blinds on a few windows, plus a thin, see-through curtain. Not only does this meant that at 6 in the morning bright sunlight pours into my room, but it also means that at midnight, everyone outside can see inside my bedroom! I've been changing in the bathroom. (Remember, I'm on the first floor, my bedroom windows look out onto the play area and parking lot, and Kazakhs tend to stay up late at night, children still playing outside at 11 and sometimes even midnight.)

I immediately emailed the secretary, who called them and reported back--Yes, they have my curtains. They'll return them.

Really? Why couldn't they have returned them sooner?

Finally, they came by, less than a week after we'd returned to Astana. Yes, the house was a bit of a mess. We'd had 4 days to unpack and recover from jet lag before returning to work full time. The landlord's wife was extremely unhappy. The school secretary, there to translate, told me later that the wife had said something to the effect of, "The teacher who lived there before was clean. But this one! ...." And other such ramblings. She was quite unhappy when she couldn't find the cleaning supplies in the bathroom (they were on the porch). Unhappy that I was cooking and the stovetop was a bit messy. She even asked why I don't use the cupboards and cabinets (which were all full, some of them still holding her husband's stuff).

When I mentioned that the washing machine makes an extremely loud noise on the spin cycle, akin to an airplane landing, she said that it's just because I put the stuff in wrong. I responded that last year it had never made this noise. Oh well, apparently that's not a big deal.

When I asked about the windows and the draft (not bad now, of course, but I'm preparing for winter!), the landlord started rambling about the painting they had done.

So, yes, quirky, annoying landlords, who used to live in Almaty and only visit once every other month or so. I could handle that so much more easily.

Of course, our poor secretary has to deal with them more than me. When the landlady complained about my cleanliness, our secretary said, Aren't we paying the bills? Aren't we paying rent? It's not your business how she lives.

(On a side note--I am not a messy pig! Yes, I hadn't finished unpacking yet, and yes, I was making dinner rather than doing the dishes, but the house is not a disaster. And now that it's Sunday and the cleaning lady came by on Friday, my home is quite presentable.)

So, we'll stay happily in this apartment for at least the remainder of the school year. The pros far outweigh the cons.

We're Back!

For the third year in the row, I arrived in Kazakhstan later than I had planned. My first year, I arrived a full month later than planned, due to issues with getting the letter of invitation; my second year, I arrived a full week later than planned, due to the Kazakhstan Embassy in Washington, DC, taking 5 weeks to process Sophia's visa. This year, they processed our visas in just one day, and I was excited to finally arrive on time.

No such luck--we were to fly from Charlotte, NC, to Newark, NJ; from there to Frankfurt and then to Astana. Due to bad weather in Newark, our first flight was delayed. Meaning--we would miss our connection in Newark and subsequently our connection in Frankfurt. The next Lufthansa flight from Frankfurt to Astana was two days later, so we had to stay in Charlotte two extra days.

Of course, US Airways offered nothing for our problems.

However, we did finally make it here, 4 days before teachers started work, so that's better than previous years, when I had to start work immediately. Maybe next year we'll arrive on time!