1 week in Astana

Kazakhstan – July 2023

It’s almost 11pm when I land at Nur-Sultan Airport. The first thing that I notice while waiting for my backpack in the baggage hall is the large poster showing a lake and lush green rolling hills. It’s quite different from the image that I have in mind of the steppe country. Once my luggage arrives, I quickly pass through the short line for international passport holders at the immigration counter. Then I finally meet my host Dariya in the arrival hall. Despite the late hour, she came all the way by Yandex Taxi (the local version of Uber used across many former Soviet nations). I first met Dariya in Dubai, where we both worked for our respective countries’ pavilions at the World Expo. We stayed in touch ever since and so I decided to visit her during my stopover in Central Asia on the way from Korea to Switzerland. She orders another car – Business Class as always – and we catch up during the ride back to her apartment.

Our first stop before heading upstairs is a small convenience store/kiosk where we buy some beer. Intrigued by the plastic bottles with a milky drink, I make a mental note to come back to have another look when I have more time. Dariya pays our purchases by card, an option that wasn’t widely available in neighbouring Uzbekistan where I just came from. Along with the clean, wide streets, modern cars and high-rise buildings, this confirms my expectation that Kazakhstan is quite different from its southern neighbour. As if to enhance my first impression, we then take the elevator up to the 11^th floor of a brand-new business class building, in which Dariya recently purchased a small apartment. To my surprise, the familiar face of Roger Federer welcomes us upon arriving on her floor.

Dariya shows me around the most western-style apartment I have seen in almost a year. I first inspect the large bathroom with amazing water pressure and excitedly take notice of the full oven in the kitchen, where my host prepares our late-night snack: a traditional dish of bell pepper stuffed with minced meat and onions with a salad as a side. We chat until 2am, luckily my Japanese company’s office is closed the next day due to a public holiday. I sleep well on the comfy blue sofa and enjoy a leisurely day off doing nothing before Dariya returns from work in the late afternoon. Since the weather finally clears up at the same time, we head out for a walk to the nearby Expo site from 2017.

We stroll around the large sphere that marks the center of the event venue that now host various offices including Dariya’s and she gives me a crash course on Kazakh culture. How the land’s indigenous inhabitants derive from 3 tribes and till now their descendants take pride in their lineage. How due to the Soviet occupation Russian became the main language and nowadays many people can’t speak Kazakh well anymore. And finally, how a significant part of the population considers themselves culturally Muslim (meaning they don’t eat pork among other ascpects) but is not specifically religious. The next days follow the same pattern of work, exploring the few tourist attractions Astana has to offer, followed by a home cooked dinner.

On one occasion we take a private taxi across the city centre to the most famous site: Bajterek Tower. The construction of the trophy shaped building was ordered by Kazakhstan’s first president Nursultan Nasarbajew and is now a popular place to visit for Kazakhs spread out across the country. We pay the small ticket fee and take the elevator up to the sphere-shaped observatory. While Dariya and I mostly enjoy the view of the setting sun below dark clouds, and the downtown skyscrapers, many other visitors immediately head up the ramp to the second floor. Here, a hand print of the president who commissioned the construction of the building – inlet in gold – stands for the new era for the country after Soviet rule. It symbolizes the striving for peace, friendship and unity. Given the meaning, it doesn’t surprise that many proud Kazakhs want to take the opportunity for a symbolic handshake with the founder of Astana. However, not everyone is a fan of the country’s first president. Given the high level of corruption, strategically moving the capital from historically important Almaty to the no-man’s land in the north and other questionable endeavors motivated by personal interests, there are many reasons not to support him.

During my lunch break on another day, I go on a walk around the neighbourhood to clear my head. I step back into the convenience store on the bottom of Dariya’s building where I found the bottles with a milky looking drink in PET bottles. I take another look and realize that according to the label it’s actually horse milk. I have heard tales of fermented horse milk being handed out in Mongolian yurts, but didn’t expect to find it in downtown Astana. On this occasion, I suppress my usual curiosity and refrain from buying the mysterious refreshment. Instead, I head back out into the August heat and explore a small fruit stall. Watermelon seems to be the main seller, and I wonder if the lady behind the old-school scale and register also accepts card or other cashless payment forms.

Next to the fruit stall, a bright blue Old-timer car is another testimony of the past soviet era, while the modern buildings on the right stand for the rapid modernization the country has seen in the last decades. I continue my walk down the wide avenue and am surprised to see several closed McDonalds stores. Later, Dariya tells me that all their locations in Kazakhstan had to close due to the US sanction of Russian business since the beginning of the attacks on Ukraine. Turns out the McDonalds factories supplying Kazakh joints are located in Russia – hence they had to shut down once they ran out of stock. The sanctions on Russia are also the reason why I can’t use Yandex Taxi. The Russian Uber app is not available in western app stores.

Dariya advices me only to use the local alternative available in case I don’t have other options. According to her, the quality of cars and drivers is too low and not save enough. So I depend on her to keep ordering the business class cars for our excursions. Several nights we cross the city on the busy but somewhat organized roads. There are busses connecting neighbourhoods, but it seems that most residents prefer to get around by car. One night on the way to dinner, we pass an abandoned construction site. I ask what they were building here. Dariya chuckles and says that Astana people call it “the corruption monument”. Some politician used the money allocated for the construction of a monorail line for his private endevours before “retiring” in another country.

Arriving at the Kazakh family restaurant Navat I’m immediately impressed by the pretty interior design. The warm colours of the beautifully crafted tiles covering tables and floors give off strong silk route vibes. As always in Asia, I don’t even bother looking at the menu. There is an English version available. But of course, Dariya has already decided what we will be having on the way to the restaurant. She orders bread that looks like an Empanada to me, a dish of roasted potato, chicken, and onions and the main attraction for tonight: Beshbarmak. The Central Asian specialty made of minced horse meat, flat noodles and an onion sauce. It’s popular among nomadic people, who traditionally eat it with their hands. In this case, we opt for fork and knives and enjoy it with boiled potatoes. Pleasantly surprised by the flavour combinations, and to Dariya’s delight, I manage to finish my share!

On my  last night in Astana, we explore another of the city’s parks. Astana Central Park is a lot bigger than I expected and provides a number of architectural highlights. From the colourful entrance gates to the futuristic Atyrau Bridge across Ischim River on which pedal boats in various shapes zip from one side to the other. With the view of the skyline and the orange sunset sky in the background, we walk along the river for a while before stopping in a nearby hot dog restaurant for dinner. As usual, we mix light hearted banter with deep topics and end up discussing societal expectations of women regarding marriage and the like.

Over a draft beer at a hip bar, Dariya tells me that she was already engaged before. At 23 she was set to marry her boyfriend at the time. Traditionally, the engagement is agreed on by the symbolic gift of valuable earrings. However, for some reason, she decided to return the earrings and called off the wedding. At 32, her parents keep asking for grandkids, but Dariya who has been living abroad in different countries and experienced various other cultures has some non-negotiable standards for a possible future husband. So far, none of the men she met were able to full-fill them. Impressed by her resilience, all I have to share is that my parents seem to be happy as long as I am happy. We then go back to share some fun memories of Expo times and my upcoming 24 hour train journey to Almaty which you can read about here: