In which we happily fill our bellies.
Who says you can't get a decent meal in Kokshetau? Certainly not Owen. And, after today, his soon-to-be parents are converts as well.
Our visit with Vilka/Owen had some of the same sleepy-hungry issues as the day before, but this time we were much more prompt with the bottle. If you want a visual of what I've been describing, take a look to the left. Even so, these pictures simply don't do justice to the eyes rolled back in pleasure or the true depths of the post bottle crash.
C'mon now. We've ALL been there.
Pre-bottle, we learned a new game. If Owen shook his rattly toy, Daddy would do a little dance. If he just held it, or if he shook his arm without the toy, Daddy sat still. Pretty soon Owen got the rules down and had the popster doing a jig. Ah, obedient puppet!
You'll notice the monkeys on Owen's stylin' new shoes. He calls them "Daddies."
Around noon we turned our little coma victim over to the nurse and embarked on the fabled tour of the city. "Our city does not have a lot of attractions," Oleg told us through Inna. "But what it offers it is our pleasure to show you."
We headed out to the edge of the city near the lake. If you couldn't see the fishermen drilling holes, it would have looked a lot like a field. Across from it were a series of Soviet era apartment buildings. Oleg lives in this neighborhood; you can see pictures to the left. Inna lives in a similar building with her parents and her sister not too distant from here. The average apartment, she tells us, has only about 60 square meters of floor space (we're not sure we heard her right on that-- it sounds tiny!).
It surprised us to see horses grazing outside one of the apartment buildings, unsupervised and unfenced. They were someone's private property, Inna told us. Nothing unusual to her. You can also see their pictures. These are definitely steppes-bred animals. The hair is quite long and they are much shorter and stockier than the horses we see in the States.
From there we circled around to see the grain elevator. It's not much different than what we see in western Kansas, but it's huge; maybe twice the size. Agriculture is a booming industry in Kokshetau. Inna's sister studies agricultural engineering at the university and the major foreign group in Kokshetau comes from Canada. Scientists come here to study Kazakh techniques for growing in winter climates.
Continuing on around the city, we came to the Valley of the Poor, the ironically named wealth district. Although these homes are not near one another, to the left you can see the juxtaposition. Right below the horses we have a shot of typical Kazakh homes. From the outside, these 1-story buildings are all fairly cookie cutter in design and many of them appear to be run-down. According to Peace Corps Bryan, however, you can't judge the book by its cover. Inside, he tells us, the place could be a dilapidated as its exterior or it could be a beautiful home filled with the latest in electronic wizardry.
These houses are left over from the days of the U.S.S.R. In those times, people were encouraged to live in the government supplied apartment housing. If they did choose to build their own home, the house could be no more than a single story and its design must fit within a uniform code.
None of these houses have indoor plumbing. Water comes from wells around the city and the citizens pull huge canisters on sleds to and fro. You can see a picture at left.
In contrast, the Valley of the Poor boasts enormous homes fancy enough to rival some of the wealthiest in Kansas City. You can see one pictured at left. Oleg and Inna tell us that typically the highest ranking government officials live here and, occasionally, some of the extremely successful businessmen.
With the fall of Communism, the mandate on uniformity fell as well. There's new construction all over town, not only in the Valley, but closer to the center of town as well. When the U.S.S.R. collapsed, government sponsored projects stopped mid-stream. To the left you can see a communist planned apartment building that was started under the Soviet regime and then abandoned. Occasionally you will see people prowling around its decks. These buildings have become fodder for other projects and are periodically robbed of their materials.
We asked Oleg and Inna whether the people of Kazakhstan had embraced Democracy or whether they still missed Communism. The opinion, they told us, was mixed. The older generation, ready to retire, is worried about who will care for them and long for the certainty of the Communist era.
Even in the younger, generation, however, emotions are mixed. Those that have found successful jobs, like Inna and Oleg, prefer Democracy and the opportunities of a free market society. Those in more creative roles-- artists and musicians-- have a difficult time making ends meet. Inna's father is a painter (she's promised we can see some of his work!) and Peace Corps Ryan's host-brother is a musician. They both miss Communism.
Past the Valley, you begin to enter the wooded area on the outskirts of town and a village of dakas. These are summer cottages, used only in warm times and empty in cold. People from the city will move here to farm small plots of land. Potatoes, tomatoes, beets, carrots, onions, cherries and blackberries are grown here and then home canned to enjoy when its cold. The cottages are very tiny and have no electricity, heating or plumbing.
The land surrounding the cottages is quite beautiful. You can see a picture of the trees at right. We took several photos, but none really do justice to the frosting of snow on the branches or the wide, rolling stretches of white on the hills. The people here really are quite in love with the land and, despite the cold, you can begin to see why.
Coming back into town, we snapped more photos of new buildings-- a mosque (near the Valley of the Poor) and a Catholic church closer to the center of town. Both buildings are new. The mosque was built especially for the Valley. The church was a gift from Catholics in Poland. According to Inna, the population is about 40% Christian-- Catholic or Russian Orthodox-- and 60% Muslim. Earlier in the week, on a walk, Robin and I could hear the Islamic call to prayer broadcast on loudspeakers throughout the city.
Wrapping up our tour, we returned to the center of town, where our cottage is located. Along the way, we passed two more buildings-- the public library and the arena. You can see Robin standing outside the library, below. The photo of the arena, which sits across the street from the library, is immediately under that.
We didn't get much of a tour of the library. Inna asked if we could go in and was continuously referred to the next higher person in the food chain. I'm not sure they knew what to make of Amerikanyetc. We finally told Inna not to worry about it. We stretched our necks to see as much as we could from the entry: No computers, but rows of card catalogs and books stacked endlessly along narrow corridors.
Across the street, the arena received only a passing glance. It was empty and cold for the time being. Mostly it is used for soccer tournaments, Inna tells us.
There's quite a bit of culture in Kokshetau. We passed three separate culture centers-- some predominantly Kazakh and some mixed-- but didn't have a chance to snap pictures. Inna tells us that they're predominantly used for stage performances, both musical and dramatic.
Our tour ended at the Rainbow Cafe. Inna had promised us earlier borscht (a traditional Russian soup with beets, cabbage and assorted items) for lunch and this was our day. The cafe staff secreted us into a small private nook in the back. It was quite nice, with a little buzzer to summon the waitress.
We had two kinds of borscht: Ukrainian and traditional Russian. Robin preferred the former, I the latter. We also had more Russian salads. Robin's had mayonnaise, apples, cheese and blackberries. Mine had mayonnaise, beef, coleslaw, and french fries. They tasted much better than they sound; in fact, they were delicious. We also had a side of Italian-style rice-- deliciously seasoned with cheese grated on the top. Dessert was ice cream for Inna and me, chocolate bananas for Robin. Oleg abstained. "Watching my figure," he explained.
Oleg did insist that we try some vodka. It was nothing that I'd want a lot of, but there's a remarkable difference between Kazakh vodka and American. The Kazakh version is very smooth or, as I explained to Oleg via Inna, trouble waiting to happen. We stopped with one shot.
The food was remarkably delicious, if unusual. We complimented Inna and Oleg on their choices repeatedly. Oleg told us that people in America have the misconception that they are starving or that their food is dangerous (and, okay, we'll admit that we thought the food was dangerous!). Obviously it isn't and the people of Kokshetau are quite proud of their cuisine.
As I said at the beginning of this, Robin and I are hooked. We've signed up for a Fat Day today and asked Inna to order us a beef and potato pie for dinner.
Tomorrow we'll have to sample Kokshetau's gym culture....
