Neesy
#1 fan (Annie Wilkes cousin) 1st cousin Mom's side
Don't give up and go back to smoking - the longer you go without it, the better you will feel. We're very proud of you Mr. Cranky - keep up the good work!
What Did You Do Today? What are you doing today?
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Don't give up and go back to smoking - the longer you go without it, the better you will feel. We're very proud of you Mr. Cranky - keep up the good work!
Hang in there!
Good times so far. Here's the view from the hotel window. Does it look anything like Borat's village? (I have only vague memories of that movie. Saw it in a hotel room at the urging of others. Not a fan. Sorry, fans.)
Lovely people here, friendly, helpful, courteous. I'm about to head out to take a walk - probably not in the direction of the picture. I haven't even been outside yet, except for the drive last night from the airport. I'll letcha know!
Wow! That is one wild-looking building. An arena of some sort?
Be careful
Be careful
Keep up the good work. It will be well worth the effort.
Dying of boredom. Please save me! I wont last much longer!
Waiting.....and I hope, that this damn Windows Update finishes 
When heading to Kazakhstan, Neesy mentioned "the land of Borat!"
Now, I did see "Borat" once, didn't enjoy it, and don't remember it much, except that I remember his portrayal of a central/south Asian country exemplified by a Third World hamlet filled with an Islam stereotypical equivalent of anti-Semitic rednecks. And if the movie was meant to represent Kazakhstan, I feel empowered to officially feel profound resentment for the portrayal.
The visit in this ninth largest country in the world has been hugely interesting and supremely benign. Astana is a relatively new city, with soaring and diverse architecture, at least in the part where I am, and I suspect I'm in the business part. Giant curved and fantastical buildings rise from a rather stark landscape. Streets in this part of town are wide and intimidating to just go out for a sightseeing stroll. So after doing the work of making sure I was right with the clients' upcoming needs, out I went.
I didn't go far, maybe a mile or two away, and sticking within reasonable distance of my main path. It was cold, but not the ripping cold that I'd experienced the night before. I had on a cool-weather jacket with a sweater underneath, with hat and gloves. It was comfortable. I kept the hat and gloves and sometimes my hands in the jacket pockets. Some people were wearing hats and gloves, some not. I wanted to take out my sunglasses during the sunny times, but I didn't see a single other person wearing a set.
The Kazakhs that I saw, and I saw a lot of them, are hard to group to some ethnic/racial identity. The median look (I wanted to say "mean look," but didn't want to be misconstrued) is somewhat classical Eurasian, dark hair, olive-ish skin, almond-ish eyes (I'm struggling to keep out a reference from a book of mine). But that's the median. The range of features goes from extremes of someone who looks like they could live in Beijing to another who appears to be right out of St. Petersburg.
I noticed that the folks who looked more classic Oriental tended to keep their eyes forward when passing. Not always, but tended to. The ones who looked more European had a higher incidence of giving me a sharp look. Not always, but more.
I cannot be mistaken for a native here. This guy's hair is too light, the skin too fair, the eyes too deep and narrow. From my Nigerian and Korean/Taiwan experiences, I'm used to being in areas where I'm sticking out as the only Caucasian, and it doesn't bother me, but there were a few times here that I just felt a little off-balance in my noticeability. Like I was being scrutinized more.
With the stereotype mentioned at the start of this posting, and with the photo I'm posting of a huge mosque, I know some people will be thinking, "How Islamic is this place?" In the couple hours I was out, I saw one hijab and nary a burka in sight. The attire was in the fashion of Cold-Temperature Western World. In fact, I see more traditional Muslim wear in Denver.
The day was drab and chilly. I was hungry. I was lost on the signs. It was more confusing than, say, Chinese or Korean environs, because while those signs often have English subtitles, the ones here were largely bereft of anything but Cyrillic script. And while the text has shapes that often reflect or resonate with Romantic letters, they were pretty much indecipherable.
I wandered about, taking pictures on my phone of buildings that looked interesting. I limited my efforts because there's so many of them, and I didn't want to strike the level of Boring Architecture Slide Show.
It was 3:30 in the afternoon, and I was getting hungry. I took a branch off the main street to a side street that was, again, wide and expansive. I saw a sign that had "China Food" in English. Not really what I was looking for in Astana.
I walked farther and then saw pictures of food out in front on a building, and some of it looked pretty good (although I don't know many restaurants that put up bad pictures of their food). I went to the door. Locked. Dang. Must be past prime time. I walked away and heard someone yelling. I turned around, and a young man had come through the door and was beckoning me in. So I went.
Yup, I was the only person there. He showed me to a table, I said, "Spasiba," he said, "Speak Russian?" and I said, "Nyet," and we both chuckled. I followed up this cleverness with "Menu?" and he brought me one that was as indecipherable as the street signs, although the prices were obvious.
I reflected on a picture I'd seen outside, took a napkin, unfolded it, and pantomimed spooning food in and wrapping it up. He grasped immediately, said, "Drink?" and I settled on, "Tea," which he also understood. He had a pretty limited level of English but it was infinitely better than my Kazakh. Or Russian, for that matter.
The meal was good, two wraps, with the wrap dough baked to brown crispiness. Quite yummy. They were stuffed with thin-sliced meat which tasted like, and which I took to be, beef along with tomatoes and onion bits. The tea was in a ridiculously small decanter but tasted fine, normal tea. I have yet to be in an local eatery in Asia where I can gulp down decent wash-it-down amounts (by Euro-American standards) of a drink.
When I finished, I gave the young man my card, and have just now checked the statement: $4.32. I don't know if this is a tipping culture, and I should find out. There was no tip line on the card.
Back out on the street, and it felt less cold then before. I found a mall on the way back. It had an adequate but relatively modest entrance, but inside was quite roomy, three big floor levels of shopping, including a supermarket. In there, I saw packaged lunches and will bring some back tomorrow.
I also visited the liquor section. Some of the prices were quite reasonable, but single-malt Scotch was about twice what it is at home. That's okay. I shouldn't be trying to polish off a bottle of booze on this trip anyway. Another guy on the team and I talked later, and we might go halves on a smaller bottle of mutually agreeable stuff, because hotel prices are... well. It's a really nice hotel.
Back to the wide street and to aforementioned hotel. I walked through the only metal detector I ever remember seeing inside a main hotel door, and smiled and exchanged greetings with the supremely courteous, and mostly young and attractive, hotel staff. Back to my room and decided to shower.
Now, the accommodations are quite nice, but the shower temperature range is... well, somewhere between Really Just A Little Too Hot all the way up to Let's Play Boil The Lobster. The other kinda out-of-place thing is the stool closet. One end has a regular toilet. The other has a lower toilet-type thing but with a faucet. I'm assuming it's for very personal hygiene. I ain't touching it. It doesn't even strike my curiosity like the bidet toilets in Eastern Asia have done.
I ate a late dinner in the hotel, which I don't like to do, but I just needed a salad. I bet it was expensive. Then back to the room, but to some hours of a now-customary but still annoying night of sleep disruption. In fact, I woke up and posted this. It's now 3:05 a.m. Good night.
The view from the hotel room:
Now, I did see "Borat" once, didn't enjoy it, and don't remember it much, except that I remember his portrayal of a central/south Asian country exemplified by a Third World hamlet filled with an Islam stereotypical equivalent of anti-Semitic rednecks. And if the movie was meant to represent Kazakhstan, I feel empowered to officially feel profound resentment for the portrayal.
The visit in this ninth largest country in the world has been hugely interesting and supremely benign. Astana is a relatively new city, with soaring and diverse architecture, at least in the part where I am, and I suspect I'm in the business part. Giant curved and fantastical buildings rise from a rather stark landscape. Streets in this part of town are wide and intimidating to just go out for a sightseeing stroll. So after doing the work of making sure I was right with the clients' upcoming needs, out I went.
I didn't go far, maybe a mile or two away, and sticking within reasonable distance of my main path. It was cold, but not the ripping cold that I'd experienced the night before. I had on a cool-weather jacket with a sweater underneath, with hat and gloves. It was comfortable. I kept the hat and gloves and sometimes my hands in the jacket pockets. Some people were wearing hats and gloves, some not. I wanted to take out my sunglasses during the sunny times, but I didn't see a single other person wearing a set.
The Kazakhs that I saw, and I saw a lot of them, are hard to group to some ethnic/racial identity. The median look (I wanted to say "mean look," but didn't want to be misconstrued) is somewhat classical Eurasian, dark hair, olive-ish skin, almond-ish eyes (I'm struggling to keep out a reference from a book of mine). But that's the median. The range of features goes from extremes of someone who looks like they could live in Beijing to another who appears to be right out of St. Petersburg.
I noticed that the folks who looked more classic Oriental tended to keep their eyes forward when passing. Not always, but tended to. The ones who looked more European had a higher incidence of giving me a sharp look. Not always, but more.
I cannot be mistaken for a native here. This guy's hair is too light, the skin too fair, the eyes too deep and narrow. From my Nigerian and Korean/Taiwan experiences, I'm used to being in areas where I'm sticking out as the only Caucasian, and it doesn't bother me, but there were a few times here that I just felt a little off-balance in my noticeability. Like I was being scrutinized more.
With the stereotype mentioned at the start of this posting, and with the photo I'm posting of a huge mosque, I know some people will be thinking, "How Islamic is this place?" In the couple hours I was out, I saw one hijab and nary a burka in sight. The attire was in the fashion of Cold-Temperature Western World. In fact, I see more traditional Muslim wear in Denver.
The day was drab and chilly. I was hungry. I was lost on the signs. It was more confusing than, say, Chinese or Korean environs, because while those signs often have English subtitles, the ones here were largely bereft of anything but Cyrillic script. And while the text has shapes that often reflect or resonate with Romantic letters, they were pretty much indecipherable.
I wandered about, taking pictures on my phone of buildings that looked interesting. I limited my efforts because there's so many of them, and I didn't want to strike the level of Boring Architecture Slide Show.
It was 3:30 in the afternoon, and I was getting hungry. I took a branch off the main street to a side street that was, again, wide and expansive. I saw a sign that had "China Food" in English. Not really what I was looking for in Astana.
I walked farther and then saw pictures of food out in front on a building, and some of it looked pretty good (although I don't know many restaurants that put up bad pictures of their food). I went to the door. Locked. Dang. Must be past prime time. I walked away and heard someone yelling. I turned around, and a young man had come through the door and was beckoning me in. So I went.
Yup, I was the only person there. He showed me to a table, I said, "Spasiba," he said, "Speak Russian?" and I said, "Nyet," and we both chuckled. I followed up this cleverness with "Menu?" and he brought me one that was as indecipherable as the street signs, although the prices were obvious.
I reflected on a picture I'd seen outside, took a napkin, unfolded it, and pantomimed spooning food in and wrapping it up. He grasped immediately, said, "Drink?" and I settled on, "Tea," which he also understood. He had a pretty limited level of English but it was infinitely better than my Kazakh. Or Russian, for that matter.
The meal was good, two wraps, with the wrap dough baked to brown crispiness. Quite yummy. They were stuffed with thin-sliced meat which tasted like, and which I took to be, beef along with tomatoes and onion bits. The tea was in a ridiculously small decanter but tasted fine, normal tea. I have yet to be in an local eatery in Asia where I can gulp down decent wash-it-down amounts (by Euro-American standards) of a drink.
When I finished, I gave the young man my card, and have just now checked the statement: $4.32. I don't know if this is a tipping culture, and I should find out. There was no tip line on the card.
Back out on the street, and it felt less cold then before. I found a mall on the way back. It had an adequate but relatively modest entrance, but inside was quite roomy, three big floor levels of shopping, including a supermarket. In there, I saw packaged lunches and will bring some back tomorrow.
I also visited the liquor section. Some of the prices were quite reasonable, but single-malt Scotch was about twice what it is at home. That's okay. I shouldn't be trying to polish off a bottle of booze on this trip anyway. Another guy on the team and I talked later, and we might go halves on a smaller bottle of mutually agreeable stuff, because hotel prices are... well. It's a really nice hotel.
Back to the wide street and to aforementioned hotel. I walked through the only metal detector I ever remember seeing inside a main hotel door, and smiled and exchanged greetings with the supremely courteous, and mostly young and attractive, hotel staff. Back to my room and decided to shower.
Now, the accommodations are quite nice, but the shower temperature range is... well, somewhere between Really Just A Little Too Hot all the way up to Let's Play Boil The Lobster. The other kinda out-of-place thing is the stool closet. One end has a regular toilet. The other has a lower toilet-type thing but with a faucet. I'm assuming it's for very personal hygiene. I ain't touching it. It doesn't even strike my curiosity like the bidet toilets in Eastern Asia have done.
I ate a late dinner in the hotel, which I don't like to do, but I just needed a salad. I bet it was expensive. Then back to the room, but to some hours of a now-customary but still annoying night of sleep disruption. In fact, I woke up and posted this. It's now 3:05 a.m. Good night.
The view from the hotel room:
Do so enjoy your recaps of your business trips. The architecture is spectacular. You can definitely see the Russian influence. Enjoy your stay and safe travels back home.
Neesy
#1 fan (Annie Wilkes cousin) 1st cousin Mom's side
You’re such a lucky guy to be able to travel so much! Glad your enjoying the experience
Thanks for that, Grandpa. I love your travel logs. Those pictures are stunning, weird architecture is something I love. And the mosque!
Enjoy your stay and safe travels.
Enjoy your stay and safe travels.
Waiting.....and I hope, that this damn Windows Update finishes
Hope you packed a lunch and have plenty bottled water. Flipping thing takes next to forever.
Are you going to Moscow? I was in Moscow in 1974, I saw Lenin's tomb and I remember when we took a taxi from the airport and I asked what my father what was those giant steel cross type things and the taxi driver said 'That's where we stopped the Nazis."
So uh, it was take-your-kids-to-work day at the office...
....you work in Whoville?....So uh, it was take-your-kids-to-work day at the office...
They are beautiful pictures, Grandpa. The architecture looks futuristic, and IMHO better than what we get where I live. I would love to do the trans-Siberian railway journey from Moscow to Vladivostok. Have you had anything to eat at McDonalds while you have bee over there?
Neesy
#1 fan (Annie Wilkes cousin) 1st cousin Mom's side
Sorry - glad you are or you’re (not your) etc. etc. - darn autocorrectYou’re such a lucky guy to be able to travel so much! Glad your enjoying the experience
Thank you, Spidey!
You’re such a lucky guy to be able to travel so much! Glad your enjoying the experience
I really am lucky for it. This year has been weird. Travel and make money doing it! Doesn't get much better.
Thanks for that, Grandpa. I love your travel logs. Those pictures are stunning, weird architecture is something I love. And the mosque!
Enjoy your stay and safe travels.
Thank you, Tery! You guys are far too kind.
Not Moskva from here. Actually, I'm not sure where I'm going. I may be coming home in a few days, or I may be heading east again for another assignment. The timing is delicate. We'll see if anyone wants me... somewhere.
I rarely eat fast food, period, and pretty much stay away from American standard restaurants, particularly fast food, when I'm abroad. It's not out of dislike. More like, "I know what that is. Why should I do that when I have local establishments to experience and learn from?"
There was a McDonalds at the airport. I haven't seen one out on the economy yet, but there is KFC at the mall I talked about.
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