What’s in my iTunes: Popular music in Kazakhstan

In Kazakhstan I've found that music fills a critical void in my life, mainly because it has helped me retain what little sanity I have left. Whenever things get a bit too much, a couple of hours listening to music calms me down.

Many of my favorite memories over the past two years involve music. The night I was sworn in as a volunteer, I bonded with the Kaz 19s near Taldykorgan by singing along to old school music videos on MTV piped in from Russia and drinking beer. Other memories regarding music also pop into my mind: impromptu dance parties in my host family’s living room, listening to traditional Kazakh songs on the dombra during Naruyz, and having musical adventures in Taldykorgan by rocking out in a bar until 3am.

I’ve found music to be a great way to foster cultural exchange. Many youth in Kazakhstan like rap and can name at least one American rapper (usually Tupac or Jay-Z), yet get really interested when I start talking about the *other* American musical forms, like jazz, the blues, and even (god forbid) country. Over the past 2 years I’ve also found music to be an easy way to practice Russian and Kazakh on my own. I’ve even taken a liking to Kazakh rap/R&B, and Russian pop. I’ve found that looking up lyrics and matching them with my dictionary is a good way to learn some new words.

So what have I been listening to over the past two years? What’s hot in Kazakhstan? Here are three groups/artists that enjoy a fair bit of airplay in Kazakhstan and on my Itunes player:

5ivesta Family, "Зачем" (Why?)

Who they are: A pop group from Russia...became pretty popular in 2009

Why I like them: Their lyrics are easy enough to follow, and their songs usually have a “rap break” that’s pretty cool. Russian rap is my guilty pleasure. And their lead singer’s cute. My counterpart just shakes her head in shame whenever she catches me singing along, but I don’t care. In addition, they have a number in their name, and only the coolest people and musical groups can pull that off, like 311, Pope John Paul II, and Ochocinco.

What’s this video about?: This guy sees a woman, and falls in love with her. He keeps on giving her compliments, and gifts, and she accepts them but she won’t give him a definite answer to whether she feels anything toward him and usually will dance with him in the club, but he “goes home alone”. She doesn’t love anyone else, but keeps on kind of stringing him along because there’s no one else around. So the natural question to ask is “Why?", which is the title and the refrain of the song.

Russian pop: my guilty pleasure

Ерболат - "Мен Казакпын" (Yerbolat - I am Kazakh)

Who is he : Yerbolat is a Kazakh rapper/R&B singer, and is pretty popular all over Kazakhstan. Whenever I go to a school assembly, concert, ceremony, one of his songs is usually played as an intro. He even gets some airplay at weddings.

Why I like him: Yerbolat has figured out how to blend Kazakhstan’s old history with new beats, and makes it sound very cool in the process. Many of his songs feature the dombra and several other traditional instruments. He also raps frequently about Kazakhstan (and even follows the American rap music tradition of making fun of other regions in Kazakhstan…East Coast vs. West Coast anyone?), in Kazakh, the national language. Yerbolat also has some pretty intense music videos, including one which basically involves people fighting in a boxing ring, dog fights, and copious amounts of him and his crew firing machine guns in the air because that’s awesome. If you are into that sort of thing.

I’ve also heard that he’s originally from Taldykorgan, which is just further proof in my mind that Taldykorgan is the best city in Kazakhstan.

What’s the video about?: This music video shows the highlights of Kazakhstan’s history, with images of the old mosque in Turkestan, the Soviet takeovers and uprisings after the first world war, the first space flight (everyone knows that the Russians launched the first manned space flight. What people don’t know is that it was launched from Kazakh soil), nuclear tests and protests, the rise of Astana, and ends with some footage of Kazakh athletes in the Beijing Olympics. Yerbolot’s the guy with the microphone.

When I get back to America, and people ask me "what's Kazakhstan?" I think I'll just show them this video

Alexander Rubak “Fairytales”

Who is he: A wicked talented dude who is rumored to have a nasty mean streak behind stage. He was born in Belarus, but then moved to Norway. You can read more about him here.

Why I like him: This guy sings in English, but I don’t think I would have never heard of him unless I lived in Europe or Asia. He won Eurovison 2009 with the highest score ever, which is like "American Idol", except every country sends their best musical act. He plays the violin, and actually makes it look awesome (I’m not a violin fan, but he makes it look cool). I like his lyrics and his songs have a lot of energy, the type that makes people get up and dance in crazy circles, myself included. In my mind, he’s what Jack Johnson should have been if he was awesome.

What’s the video about: At this point, your English is probably better than mine. So sit back, listen, and figure it out.

Playing the violin has never looked so cool.

How to Hitchhike in Kazakhstan (How I get to work)

Every weekday I do the exact same actions of millions of Americans: I get up, eat breakfast, get dressed, and go to work. However it's the process of actually getting to work that serves as a daily reminder to me of exactly how far I am away from my home country: I stick out my hand and hitch a ride.

I am such a rebel. This goes totally against what I was taught as a child. It is engrained in American children to never enter cars with unknown persons, even if they have candy and a lost puppy. We are taught in America that if you hop in a stranger's car, you will be kidnapped and killed and you will never see your parents again and all people who hitch rides are crazy escaped felons from prison that will stab you in the neck while you drive and then steal your car. Yet, even with those reinforced principles in my head, I stand on the main highway with my hand out every day waiting for someone to pick me up. This is because hitching in Kazakhstan and especially in Ecik is the only way to get a taxi and the fastest way to travel. And it's part of the culture. In Kazakhstan and many Central Asian countries, any car is a taxi, and any person is a potential passenger.

In principle, this is something I think that we as Americans could adapt to our lives. Imaging driving to work every day, stopping once or twice to pick up 2 or 3 people who work in the same highrise or building. They pay you a dollar each way. That's could be lunch money at Wendys! It could revolutionize carpooling. Too bad that in America this would never work because we believe that hitchhiking = death.

I don't have to take a taxi if I don't want to. I could take the bus but they have become less frequent since school finished in June. If I see a bus I take it, as it is slightly cheaper than a taxi (40 vs 50 tenge), but waiting for a bus could make me hours late to work. Walking is another option. However, Ecik situated at the base of a mountain range, so I'd have to walk uphill to work. This takes about an hour and it's not very fun in bad weather. However my future nieces, nephews, and godchildren don't need to know how often I did this, as I'm not above lying. I already know what I'll tell them: "When I was in Peace Corps, I walked uphill an hour every day to work for two years through Siberian winters, and I wasn't even paid! So don't complain about how hard it is to hoverboard to school…"

So, how do I catch a taxi to get to work? It's not very hard, but slightly different than the American views of hitchhiking:

First, nobody in Kazakhstan sticks their thumb out to catch a ride. Instead, it is more common to point a finger, a hand, or in some cases, a whole arm. In Ecik, people use hand signals to communicate with drivers. For example, from my apartment, if I want to go to work, I point uphill. If I'm at work and wish to go home, I point my index finger toward the ground and circle it, because I live in the outskirts of town, where you'd have to turn around to go back to the center of town. If I wish to go to Almaty, I point to the direction of the city. If I don't want to get into a particular car, I shake my head once like a pitcher rejecting their catcher's choice of throwing a fast ball and it will pass me by. If the car is full, or if the driver doesn't want to stop they can do the same thing.

When a car stops, I stick my head in the window and scan the vehicle quickly while telling the driver where I want to go and how much I'm willing to pay to get there. What am I looking for? All of the things that our parents warned us about as teenagers: crazy drivers, alcohol, drunk people, cars with NOS, short shifters, and turbo boost meters seatbelts, loud music, and joyriders. This introspection goes both ways. While I'm looking at the driver, the driver is looking at me too to see if I am drunk or crazy. I've been in cars that have stopped for a person, then suddenly drive away because the person was drunk beyond belief. Nobody wants to take a drunk person anywhere, and nobody wants to ride with a drunk. On the particular day that I'm blogging about, I shared the car with a 9 year old girl who was going all by herself.

Is the car safe? I'm not a total gearhead, but examining the outside of the car while it stops and sticking my head inside, I can get sense of whether it and its driver can carry me to my destination safely. Is it falling apart or heavily dented? Held together by tape? Does it sound more like a lawn mower than a real car? Do the breaks squeal and the tires lock up…on dry pavement? If I see any of those things or if my gut says "don't get in", I give a head shake and wait for another car. It's not a perfect system and I've blogged about a car accident I was in a year ago, but since that time I've become more careful.

When the car stops is also when I negotiate how much I'm willing to pay. Metered taxis are rare to nonexistent, so haggling is common. Many towns have a fair price: in Ecik I can take a taxi for 50 tenge anywhere in the city limits during the day. In bad weather and at night the prices can be 70 to 100 tenge. Although it's usually 50 tenge, this doesn't stop taxi drivers for asking for more, especially if they think I don't know the standard rate (which I do). Anyone that overcharges me and refuses to budge gets a simple, "I've lived in Ecik since 2008. I know how much a taxi costs." Then I head nod them along and wait for another car. A little bit of patience goes a long way.

One good thing about my time in Kazakhstan is that it has made me a more direct person who is willing to speak up to get what I want and to stand up for myself. There is a big difference between, "I'm going to go to the center. Is 50 tenge ok?" than "I'm going to the center for 50 tenge.", although one would use the exact same words in Russian. As a non native Russian or Kazakh speaker, I've learned that intonation is important.

Talking about the price up front cuts down drastically on the chances of getting ripped off. Although this hasn't happened to me in a long time, if a taxi driver tries to rip me off, usually by not giving me change (which is why having exact change is valuable), it usually causes me to start yelling in rapid fire Russian about how I shouldn't be taken as an idiot and my opinions about honor and shame that would make my Karabulak babushka say "Great job!". For reasons I don't know, people get surprised and taken back when I start screaming. But this rarely happens. The only time I pay early is if the driver stops for gas. Why would a driver stop for gas? A professional taxi driver would always have a full tank. The answer to this is that not every taxi person in Kazakhstan is a professional, as all cars can be taxis. And not all cars have a full tanks of gas.

When I get to work, I pay the agreed price, and leave. After that, I walk around the corner and up the stairs into the Local Community Foundation's one room office, and begin my work day. Just like millions of other Americans

I just get there differently.

Almaty: The biggest apple

Although I still believe that Taldykorgan is the best city in Kazakhstan, I must admit that during this past week I have become fond of Almaty. Almaty is about 50 kilometers from my small town of Ecik. It is the largest city in Kazakhstan but not the capital (it was switched to Astana). Nevertheless, Almaty is still the main banking and financial center of the country and serves as the main transportation hub for air and rail for people who travel within the country. Chances are that if you are traveling somewhere in country, you'll go through Almaty first.

Almaty (translated from Kazakh, means "grandfather of the apple") is very beautiful all year around, and it can be argued that there is more to do in this city than in any other in Kazakhstan. My personal favorite things to do include shopping for strawberries at the Green Bazaar, admiring all of the amazing statues and the Orthodox Church in Panfilov Park, and hiking in the mountains outside of the city. There are lots of plays and concerts to attend for the culturally minded, and just as many cafes for the culinary minded, and twice as many bars and pubs for the socially minded.

The Orthodox Church in Panfiov Park, Almaty.

The statues in Almaty and Kazakhstan are usually big, badass and very intense. This is the monument to veterans that served in World War II, and my favorite monument in Kazakhstan, Located in Panfilov Park.

For all the fun and cultural things that one can do in Almaty, it comes with a price. Literally. Almaty holds the distinction of being the 44th most expensive city in the world according to Mercer's Cost of Living Index of 2009. This doesn't sound like a big deal, until you consider that according to this list, it is more expensive to live in Almaty than Chicago or Miami. And those cities aren't cheap either. This is one reason that it is rare for a Peace Corps volunteer to be assigned to Almaty, and the main reason why I avoid spending too much time there. It is a money sucking pit of fun and good food.

While the city is amazing, the expensiveness of Almaty can be harmful to the account of a volunteer that is not disciplined with their money, because we don't get a lot of it! However, after going several months without fresh brewed coffee and American style food, volunteers who go to Almaty can't help to spurge at Pizza Hut or Gloria Jeans Coffee, or running inside the supermarket called Ramstore for some type of American food that is hard to find in Kazakhstan (and expensive) like peanut butter or Pop Tarts. And this doesn't include getting a beer at one of the many ex-pat bars in town to catch up with other volunteers who are also passing through.

Between hanging out with the Kaz 21s, who must come to the city to do their medical exams this month, stopping in for a day to help out with an English summer camp, and charting hiking routes for this awesome project, I spent about 5 days and around 10 000 tenge in Almaty this past week. Converted to dollars, it is close to 75. It may not seem like much, but on average what I spent in Almaty in one week equals I spend on food in a month.

But I'm not complaining, because having the opportunity to get a white mocha coffee and blueberry scone for breakfast, a vegetarian pizza for lunch, burritos with salsa for dinner, and a pint of Belgium white beer was totally worth it.




Only this week, though.

Why Taldykorgan is so awesome

This weekend, I went to Taldykorgan to celebrate a birthday of a good friend. We kept the party low key, with a cake, lots of movies, and just hanging out and talking.

In many of my posts, and in many conversations, I've raved about the awesomeness of the city. However, I've never explained why this city is so great and why is my favorite in all of Kazakhstan. Don't get me wrong, the other cities I have visited in Kazakhstan are nice, like Kostanai, Ust Komegorsk, Almaty, and Shymkent. They have great qualities: Kostani has insane ice sculptures in winter. Ust feels almost European. Almaty has everything you could ever want. Shymkent is very green, very Kazakh, and gets spring really early.

I know I have a personal bias, because my first site was 20 min from Taldykorgan, but even after living in Almaty's shadow for 8 months, I still think that But Taldykorgan (usually called Taldy) is the best. In fact, Taldy is one of my "top 5 cities I would want to be in right now."

Why? I'll list 5 reasons:

1. Weather, population, climate: Kazakhstan is a country of extremes, with temperatures ranging from -40F in winter to over 100F consistently in the summer, depending on where you are at. However, Taldykorgan doesn't have any this problem. While their winters are cold, it doesn't get as cold as northern Kazakhstan (which still has snow) and doesn't get as hot as the South Kazakhstan. It's not dusty, and the city is very green. Taldykorgan is also a very small city. Almaty dwarfs it, as does Karaganda and Shymkent. But even so to me, Taldy gives off a small town middle america vibe that reminds me of my hometown, Davenport Iowa. It's large enough to be in a city, small enough that if you want, people will remeber your name. And there's something in that which I like.

2. History. One would think that Almaty, because it was the old capital of Kazakhstan and the largest city in the oblast (state), would also serve as the oblast capital. However, Taldykorgan was awarded this status in 2001. I always love it when the small guy wins against gigantic odds.

3. Food: Taldykorgan has some of the cheapest good food in a city in all of Kazakhstan. For the price of 1500 tenge (about 10 dollars), you could eat out for 3 meals, and eat well. 1500 tenge could get you through 1 meal, maybe 2, in Almaty. Taldy, despite its size, has a wide variety of food:

• Laghman place: Get plates of laghman as big as your face for about 300 tenge!
  
• Blini (pancake) place: Denny's, Kazakhstan style.
• Hamburger place: Get *almost* American style hamburgers here
• Shashlyk + place: Eat shashlyk (meat on a stick) outside on a huge patio, and watch the world go by. Now upgraded with nifty couches, a tent, and beer.
• Hessen Pub: The only place mentioned by name. The other places have names, but it's just tradition to call them by the food you can buy there. Hessen pub is a German style restaurant that brews its own beer. It's not bad. Although the most expensive place in town, you can eat, drink, and be merry for under 1000 tenge (if you are smart!) That's practically impossible in Almaty!
• Kvass place: Kvass is a lightly fermented drink from bread. I love this stuff, and Taldy has a place that sells Kvass to go!
• Korean Place: You can eat some pretty ok Korean food in Taldy. It also serves dog. I haven't tried it, although I haven't ruled it out. I have to figure out how I feel about eating something that usually tries to eat me.
  

4. Soccer! Taldykorgan has a soccer team, FC Jetiszu. For the size of the city, it fields a good team and usually finishes middle of the pack in Kazakhstan's premier league.

5. The people: The top reason why I think Taldy is the best city in Kazakhstan is because of all the awesome people, both from Kazakhstan and America who live there, or who have lived there in the past. And there are also the great memories of the PCVs before (including myself) who called Taldy home. Every time I go, I meet someone new that is cool, find a new "place" or get to know someone better.

What's to not like about that!

Figuring out the post office

Although this week was tough (see my last post,) I did celebrate a small success. My biggest win this week was learning how to send a letter from the post office. I had a couple of frustrating experiences at my old site, and due to language and confidence problems, I didn’t step foot in the Ecik post office until this week. After a lot of difficulties, some shouting, and 2 hours later, I was successful in sending something to a very special person!

It seems that every volunteer has a “stress zone”; a place that causes them a lot of anxiety. For example, some volunteers find train stations a stress zone, because they are worried about missing their train or hopping on the wrong one. For others, it’s bus and taxi stations.

My stress zone is the post office. It’s not a bad place, just a very confusing one. Every time I went inside, something would go wrong or I would do something incorrect, and then I couldn’t send or receive letters.

Then I'd get really fustrated, and just leave in a huff.

Its not fun getting pwned by an inanimate object like a bike. Or a post office.

I realize this sounds silly. Any idiot should be able to send a letter, right? But sometimes it is the most routine things that are the hardest to accomplish.

Many volunteers don't even bother with snail mail. It's difficult, takes a lot of time, and can be very stressful. Modern technology is also cheaper: an hour of internet costs about the same as one letter to the US. But it's not as awesome as receiving stamps from a different continent.

So how did I do it? I'm still unclear about the "how", but I'll explain 6 things that I found different from the US side:

1. You can only buy envelopes at the post office. Last year, I wrote a letter and carried it in my pocket for a week searching every shop in Karabulak asking for envelopes. Finally someone told me that they are only sold at the post office. I felt like an idiot.

2. You can only buy stamps at the post office. No getting a roll of stamps at the local store. I spent the same amount of time looking for stamps as I did envelopes and felt twice as dumb when I figured it out.

3. The teller at the post office will place the stamps on the envelope for you. On one side, this prevents you from overpaying. On the other side, coming from a country where we put the stamps on ourselves, this was something that takes getting used to. The first time I got my envelop and stamps from the post office, I told the the teller that I could put the stamps on myself. She thought this was funny I didn’t like being laughed at.

4. To receive a package, you have to fill out a receipt form. But here’s the kicker: The majority of the form is in Kazakh! I can speak and type in Russian, but I can barely physically write in Russian. And Kazakh? I’m getting better, but don’t expect me to write anything anytime soon.

o Bring your passport. The first time I filled out a receipt form by myself it took 2 days. And 5 different copies of the receipt form because I kept doing it wrong. I never learned how to do it right, and only got the package out of pity because I had a breakdown in the post office. After that I was known in the Karabulak post office as “the guy who we just give the packages to because he can’t write.” It was humiliating, and I started to avoid the building as much as possible.

o Speaking of breakdowns, I’ve cried 6 times in Kazakhstan. Twice was because of frustrations relating to the post office. Once was in the post office outright. I’m not ashamed to say I’ve shed some tears. In fact, if you show me a Volunteer that hasn’t gotten misty eyed at least once during their 27 months in Kazakhstan, I’ll show you a volunteer that did their service wrong.

o Pick up your packages on time! You can pay a late fee if they are there too long. How long is too long? I don’t know. When I returned to Karabulak from the north after doing a camp on Business English , I was saddled with a 1500 KzT fee to get two packages that arrived while I was gone. And again I failed to fill out the form correctly. The post office tellers were very tired of me by this point.

5. The post office is also where people receive pensions every month. If you go during those tmes, expect a huge crowd. And shorter tempers. And lots of stares. Which brings me to another subpoint:

o There are no lines in Kazakhstan! People just stand around the thing that they want. To get “in line”, you have to ask around to find who is last, then proclaim yourself last, and hope that the next person asks who is last, and then doesn’t hop in front of you.

6. You’ve must write the return address in Russian. No return address = no sent letter. Those postcards from Kyrgyzstan that I sent? No return address. Yeah…nobody got those.

I also have 3 recommendations for making the post office easier:

1. Make a friend in the post office. In Karabulak, I didn’t have the language skills or the confidence to do this, and as a result I had a very hard time. In Esik, I will always go to teller number 4 after lunch on Wednesdays, because 90% of the time because she is nice and doesn’t mind that I leave out the “ь” letter in Область (the Russian word for state. And the missing letter is silent, which is why I forget about it when writing).

2. Figure out when the pensioners go to the post office. Then don’t go that week. It's just too complicated.

3. Don’t lose your cool. The post office can still be stressful. People will still stare at you. You will be cut in line. Tellers will tell you that your forms are incorrect. But don’t give up. Quitters never win.