First Impressions

Astana rises like the Phoenix out of the dry, grassy steppes that cover most of this land mass. The president moved the capital here 10 years ago, and it has been in perpetual construction ever since. The city recently celebrated their anniversary, and the government has a goal for completing this metropolis by 2030 in futuristic style. There’s little to compare this to in the US. This is the kind of building that follows natural disasters and epic warfare.

When we drove in, we both felt sad and empty, looking for old world appeal. We knew that this was going to be a more modern city, but weren’t prepared to see a sprawl of new world, characterless, imposing structures. If you have a taste for neon, you might disagree with us. The riverbank, across from our high-rise apartment lights up each night with blue pulsing. The spacious main street, Respubliki, also has strings of intricate neon light—which are actually quite pretty, like native American beadwork—spanning from side to side. A word on shopping: because we can’t read the signage, all the drab storefronts merge into each other like an endless string of non-sequitors.

After a few days, our view began to widen. We left our apartment complex (photo above) and ventured out into a strange and wonderful little city. Many of the older buildings along the main road have been renovated with new marble and polished stone facades. The streets are alive with a beautiful mixture of Kazakh, Russian, and Turkish faces—including strawberry blondes with Asian features. The young woman all don stiletto heels and tightly fitted clothing. The men, in need of a fashion consultant, wear off-white, pointy-toed shoes with their charcoal grey suits. Jane thought she’d seen the last of that after she stopped visiting her grandparents in Miami. Steve, on the other hand, had never seen anything like this before.

Despite the multiculturalism, an Uzbek transplant told us that because of Communism’s great equalizing effect, racism in Kazakhstan is at a minimum. How refreshing. (Well, she did say that some Russians still think they’re superior.)

We’re surprised how big-boned and tall the Kazakhs are. But then again, we’ve never met people raised on horsemeat and sheep fat. The tribal robes and armor we saw in the President’s Cultural Center (photo above) were superhero-sized—no wonder Genghis Khan (an ancestor of the Kazak people) conquered all the homeys from Northern China to the Black Sea.

As we walk around our neighborhood, we’re taken by the number of brightly painted play areas. Every 20 yards or so, it seems, there’s another swing set and slide and jungle gym. It makes us feel like we’ve arrived in the right place. I’m sure part of the good vibe we’re feeling is borne of the fact that we are about to become a family, one that will spend countless hours climbing, swinging, and sliding in playgrounds in greater Boston. We’ll be happy to do just that.

Today we went shopping for some locally made gifts to give to our child. It was sweet to imagine our little one playing and growing up with Kazakh handcrafts. The felt camel is particularly yummy; we’ll gladly play with it as soon as it’s abandoned.

In roughly 36 hours we’ll meet our little huhum (naming to be posted at a later date). Keep us in your hearts and minds.