Kazakhstan – July 2024
After surviving the 24-hour journey from Astana to Almaty in the Platzkart car far better than my Kazakh friends had expected, nothing stands in the way of my stay in Kazakhstan’s former capital. I enjoy the pleasant weather and stroll through the restaurant-lined streets of the city center after work.
On Tuesday, I have a dinner date with Adiya, who I met at the Expo in Dubai. We meet at her favorite restaurant and talk for hours about the time after the World Expo and our current challenges. Despite our very different lifestyles, we are confronted with similar problems. At some point, a colleague of Adiya’s joins us by chance and the conversation suddenly turns from a hiking trip to a feminist side.
As we make our way home shortly after midnight, Adiya orders me a Yandex cab (this is how I will get home for the rest of my stay here). We have a date again for Saturday, when the Oyu Festival takes place. I spend the rest of the week working from my room in the guest house with the (now much friendlier) Russian Veronika and walking around Kok-Tobe. On Friday, shortly before closing time, I suddenly receive a surprising message from Adiya: “Do you have any plans for tonight? If not, I have 2 free tickets for Voice of Asia.”
Of course, I have no plans and agree straight away. Adiya sends me the ticket together with the location on 2Gis (Google Maps doesn’t work so well in Central Asia). She won’t be there until later because she still has a few deadlines to meet, so I should just take a cab. I check the map app and the location is a good 16 km away from my accommodation in the mountains. Luckily, in-Drive (the only alternative to Yandex Taxi that works for foreigners) is cheap. So I immediately try to find a cab that can take me to the venue.
But this is not quite so easy. Because I’m far from the only one who wants to drive up to Medeo Stadium. I stay in touch with Adyia – maybe we’ll have better luck with Yandex Taxi. But because she still hasn’t finished her work, I start plan C: the bus. So I go to the bus stop on Dostyk Avenue. There are already lots of people there, but there is no sign of bus #12 anywhere in sight. I have no choice but to wait. Then suddenly a very full bus races towards the stop – without a number. Nevertheless, the waiting crowd moves quickly towards the bus and somehow everyone manages to squeeze in.
I decide against it and continue to wait. Shortly afterwards, another empty bus with the number 12 comes around the corner. Me and the few remaining passengers get on and I ask if the bus is going to Medeo. The driver says yes and tells me I don’t have to pay. As no one else makes any effort to buy a ticket, I sit down on a free seat, open the window and enjoy the refreshing breeze as we drive up the mountain. Adiya is also on her way by now and we meet up in the reserved seats shortly after the converted ice rink opens.
Adyia’s work colleague and soon-to-be roommate Bibigul is also there. Today, only Kazakh artists are playing and the entire presentation is spoken in Kazakh. This is quite unusual, especially as Russian is still the most widely spoken language in the former Soviet Union state. Over the course of the evening, I learn a few words in Kazakh, which I hear repeatedly, and my companions give me background information on the bands and artists performing. While the band A’Studio performs their hit “Julia” from the late 80s, the sun slowly sets behind the mountains above the stage. This is definitely the most spectacular venue I have ever seen.
By now we are all pretty hungry. Fortunately, there is no shortage of street food stalls. While we are queuing for burgers and fries, we meet two different people that Adiya knows. Neither Bibigul nor I are surprised. Shortly beforehand, the event expert had received a message from another acquaintance who wanted to give us VIP wristbands for the front row. What feels like an eternity later, we return to the stage with our food and devour the fast food while a singer plays a folk song accompanied by a flute. Of course, Adiya is approached one more time before the headliner performances begin.
We watch Raim‘s performance from the back of the stage, then Adiya gets the message that we can pick up our ribbons for the VIP area to the left of the stage. So now we’re right at the front for the rest of the gigs. Of course, I don’t know any of the bands playing and I don’t understand what they’re singing about. But that doesn’t stop me from getting carried away by the mood of the crowd and dancing to the disco sounds of Moldanazar and Irina Kairatovna (IKA)’s rap with Central Asian elements. The concerts are over far too quickly and most people quickly make their way to the exit to catch the bus or their pre-ordered cab.
To escape the crowd, we make a quick stop at the toilet. As we queue, a man in the queue asks me in very good English where I’m from and what I’m doing here. I reply that I am a tourist in Kazakhstan. To my surprise, his follow-up question is: “Are you a spy?”. I laugh, but can’t quite tell from his serious expression whether he’s joking or not. Fortunately, the toilet is now free and I have an excuse to avoid the conversation. When we start looking for transportation outside the stadium, we are surprised to find an empty bus ready to leave.
We get in, pay the few dozen cents and enjoy the welcome peace and quiet. Once we arrive in the city center, another Yandex cab is ordered for me and I fall asleep in the guest house at 30°C with the window open. The next day, I meet up with Adiya for brunch in one of her favorite cafés and then wander around the city a bit before it’s time to head to the botanical gardens for the Oyu Festival. As is often the case in Kazakhstan, I’m there before everyone else. I show my QR code at the entrance and say thank you for the free bottle of water that is distributed to all visitors. Then I take my first walk around the festival grounds.
In terms of decoration, it can definitely compete with the Sziget in Budapest. However, the Oyu Fest is much smaller and there is only one stage on which local artists take turns playing. The spectators seek refuge from the blazing sun in the shade of the huge weeping willow. I buy some cute earrings from one of the craft stalls and then sit down on a hill next to the stage. A little later, Adiya, who has come with a friend, finds me there. They have an appointment with other friends who join us one by one. They all speak good English (like all the Kazakhs I’ve met) and the conversation is flowing. However, none of them are too convinced by the music.
After a quick snack, Adiya receives a message from one of her many contacts in the city promising us free tickets for tonight’s Black Eyed Peas concert, so we quickly plan and implement a change of program. Someone orders a cab, Adiya sends the QR codes for the tickets and then we are already on our way to the car. The fact that we are 1 person too many for the 5-seater just means that we have to squeeze together a bit. I’m so glad we’re not in Japan or Switzerland now… Then, with a stopover at Samal’s house, we set off for the mountains. Of course, the concert takes place in the Medeo Stadium – the same venue as yesterday’s Voice of Asia Festival.
Although the concert has been going on for 20 minutes, the traffic is just as bad as the day before. The last 5 kilometers we only make slow progress. We are almost in give up and turn around mode when someone decides to play a Black Eyed Peas hit at full volume. Soon we are all singing along and when we only have 0.75 kilometers to go, we get off the bike and run up the slope with strength that comes from who knows where. Surprisingly, we’re not the only ones who are just now turning up. Or maybe it’s not so surprising when you consider that punctuality means something different in Central Asia than it does in Europe.
We enter the stadium for the second last song and sing along at the top of our voices. Adiya and I realize that this is the second time we’ve seen Black Eyed Peas live for free. The first time was at the Expo in Dubai, where we met. The atmosphere is just as good as the last time and when an audience member from Pakistan (who had traveled all the way here especially for the concert!) is brought on stage for “Where is the Love?” for the encore, there is hardly a dry eye in the house. In contrast to the previous day, some people lingered to take photos. Our group splits up because some want to go straight home and for others it is clear that the night is not over yet.
The 5th of us finally set off in search of a lift back to the center. This turns out to be a little more difficult than the night before. In the end, we walk down the winding, single-lane Gornaya Street in the starry night together with about 150 other concert-goers until we finally catch a cab after about 45 minutes. We quickly make our way to a bar on the main street, where the talented service staff sell us personalized drinks and I get to know the concept of cigarette sellers.
Well after midnight, we realize that we are pretty hungry. Without further ado, we order various snacks from the local equivalent of Uber Eats in the bar. And why not?
This is just the beginning of my stay in Almaty. You can read another example of Kazakh hospitality here:
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