Kazakhstan 2
Johnny Jones, 14 June 2002
Getting to Kazakhstan was an adventure, as Amy and I told you.
Maybe you'd like to know where Kazakhstan is. It's a former Soviet republic, two "Stans" above Afghanistan. Almaty, where I stayed, and the former capital, is almost to China. It's literally halfway around the world, twelve time zones away.
I prayed a lot about not having trouble getting into the country because of our visas I was afraid they wouldn't recognize the e-mailed forms but it went smoothly. We stood in the wrong line at first, but then found the right line. Our problem was that our first two American $100 bills were not perfect. One had a wrinkle in the middle; the other had a red spot on it. After fumbling around and finding a couple of perfect hundreds, we were OK.
I was relieved to get passports stamped and go for our luggage. Not only did I have the 70 pound box, but Bryan brought his mountain bike. So after bonking several people with my big box and Bryan's bicycle, filling out another customs form, and looking up a couple words in Bryan's Russian/English dictionary, the last official we spoke to smiled and said, "Welcome to Kazakhstan!" Whew!
Mark met us with a friend from church and a driver with a van, and we went to their apartment. On the way I learned a lot about Almaty about the public transportation and the potholes. Few people there have cars, and people were walking everywhere.
On Saturday we ate at a Ouigger restaurant. The Ouiggers are an ethnic group in that area most of them are in China. I was surprised at the Asian look of much of the population; lots more straight black hair than blonde or red.
Church on Sunday was wonderful. People were friendly, and church was real and sincere. Lots of enthusiasm lots of young leaders. Everyone sang, with gusto. People sat on the edge of their chairs for the sermon.
We went to the RamStore (spelled PAMCTOP a stylish Turkish supermarket plus) for lunch. Pat, an older member of their mission team (but still younger than we are!) went with us, along with Vika, a young Kazakh woman.
Before my talk that evening, I met with my translator, Jenia, a talented young woman who was completing a seminary course. Mark and Melissa had asked me to speak about alcoholism and abuse spouse abuse and child abuse. Since the alcoholism rate there is really high, the abuse rate is, too. A lot of my talk focused on the necessity for forgiveness.
It was so well received. People wanted to speak with me privately afterwards, and Vika, who leads a ladies' group, wanted me to speak with their group on Wednesday night. What a privilege to go halfway around the world and be used by the Lord!
Monday Bryan took his mountain bike up one of the foothills of the Himalayas, just outside town not all the way to the top, but high enough on the 16'er to be worth the ride. That evening Pat and Allen had us to dinner, and we did the traditional toasting. Idor and Alina were the toastmasters, because they were Kazakh. When they got married, almost 300 people toasted them. It took forever, and Idor finally, after hours, wanted to sit down. His mother was horrified. "No! There are still 75 people left!" Actually, they got married 3 times: Once the Kazakh ceremony, once for the families, so they could get to know one another, and once at church, for their Christian friends.
The next day was my turn: Mark took us for a hike, beginning at the place they ended their ride, Medeu. We hiked up to the ski resort town of Chimbulak, where we ate shashleet (shish kabob) amidst the mountains. To get there, we had to climb up the dam that keeps the city from being flooded by snow melt. I counted the steps there were 822 of them. I had to stop a couple times to catch my breath. I worried about slowing them down, but later, Mark told me (when I complained that I was 57), "Well, I sure couldn't tell it on the hike!"
Wednesday we planned to visit the Bara Holka. The word, literally translated, means "junk," or "stuff you don't really need." It's a huge bazaar. Thousands of booths, narrow aisles, and you carry your pack in front of you if you don't want to lose what's in it. Everything there from T shirts (labeled "Gap" from boxes of Gap labels you can buy) to tools to red pointy-toed high heels. Melissa said that until a year or so ago, you could only buy black. You could also get forks, which were also unavailable until a couple years ago, and plucked chickens (just since last year). There were crazy things, like clip-on hair extensions, and delicious dried pineapple strips.
On the way there (by taxi, after we took the Marshuka, or a van-like cross between taxi and bus to Pat's), we saw a construction bazaar (Home Depot it's not!) and several food bazaars. The Green Bazaar is a big one. Mark and Melissa shop for most of their food at the local bazaar just a couple blocks from their apartment. Small stores and bazaars are everywhere. Many of the little stores would make Casey's seem like a supermarket.
I'll tell you more about my observations and experiences next week. Till then Paka (Russian for goodbye)!
