Month: October 2020

I flew into Astana, the capital of Kazakhstan, from Semey. It has a new name, Nur-Sultan, in honour President Nursultan Nazarbayev, who has recently abdicated. For me, though, it remains Astana.

I haven’t read a single article or blog that has not used the words ‘weird’ or ‘strange’ to describe the city of Astana. This planned city, is Nazarbayev’s idiosyncratic display of splendour and power, and an attempt to propel Kazakhstan up the twin ladders of Eurasian leadership and global recognition.

Astana, to some, may appear like a sci-fi set, and is a mix of Dubai, Brasilia and Russian orthodox townships. It’s hyper-modern buildings bend and warp at impossible angles, their claddings of metal and glass shimmer in the sunlight, and their imposing heights want to lay claim to slivers of the blue sky. The entire city fans out on both sides of the Ishim river; but it’s location in the middle of brown-green steppe gives it a starkness that borders on the eerie.

Huge reserves of oil, natural gas and minerals provide the cash for such splurges on architectural extravagance and displays of pomp and ceremony. It is the richest country in Central Asia with a per-capita GDP that is higher than that of the Russian Federation. Its biggest export commodity is crude (45%) and its FDI inflows are from Netherlands, Switzerland and USA. Its focus on infrastructure building has brought in a slew of foreign consultants, architects, engineers, tech-experts, lawyers and teachers.

Despite the lack of an old-city charm and warmth (that Almaty has) there is much to see in Astana. It has museums (the best being, The National Museum of Kazakhstan), gardens, palaces, mosques, and synagogues. I went up the landmark tower of Baiterek, visited the Palace of Peace and Reconciliation, wondered at the Ak Orda Presidential Palace, walked on a beach (imported Maldivian sand) in the Khan Shatyr (world’s tallest tent shaped structure), and marvelled at the Nur-Astana Mosque.

It’s sad to see Kazakhs take the petro-dollar route to modernity but I can understand their need move away from a forgotten way of life, and fast-track their economy into global relevance.

I am in Semey. I find myself standing outside a two-storied log-house with a tin roof and green coloured windows. There are just a handful of people about; Russian tourists I presume. This is the well-preserved living quarters (and now a museum) of one of literature’s giants: Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky.

This diversionary trip was a last minute addition: it would be travesty to come away from Kazakhstan without paying homage to the Russian literary stalwart. So I took a flight from Almaty to Semey; by road it would have taken about 20 hours!

After spending 4 years in a Siberian prison, Dostoevsky was put in compulsory military service in Semipalatinsk (Semey), Kazakhstan, for 6 years. The author of Crime and Punishment, The Idiot (1869), Demons, and The Brothers Karamazov wrote 12 novels besides novellas, short-stories, essays and other writings. The museum has parts of manuscripts, handwritten letters, and his artworks. The basement is a recreation of his work space: his original writing desk, gramophone, books and other chattels provide a glimpse into 19^th century aristocratic lifestyle.

The imposing joint-statue of Dostoevsky and  Chokhan Valikhanovm in Semey is literally ‘a clash of civilisations’: Dostoevesky – exiled Russian littérateur meets Valikhanovm – Kazakh princeling and scholar, direct descendant of Chengiz Khan, and upholder of all things native.

I also took time to visit the Museum of Abay Kunanbayev, Father of Kazakh poetry, philosopher, social reformer. The impressive complex of buildings houses 17 halls, full of exhibits: impossible to traverse in a single day. I only had time to see Abay and his Epoch: his influence on Kazakh economic, administrative and socio-political structure.

Incidently, Semipalatinsk, was part of the Soviet Union’s nuclear weapons program. The infamous ‘Semipalatinsk Polygon’ is just 150 kms away. These numbers are going to shake you: 456 nuclear tests were conducted in this area from 1949 until 1989. I feared that radioactive fallout might still be hanging around; but this is now an actively researched atomic testing site, and the only one in the world that is open to the public!

Go through the high mountains,
Through fast-flowing river,
Through thick, impenetrable forests,
Through the large lake,
In many countries,
Go through the desert,
Where the bird’s wings are tired,
Find the way to off-road,
Be ahead of the troops in battle.
Let it be your horse is always ready,
I wish you this.

-[Kazakh blessing for a child when he first sits on a saddle]

The ubiquitous horse is both a companion and provider for the Kazakhs. The revere it like a god, mythicize it (tulpar, a winged horse), use it for travel and sport, flaunt in popular iconography, and depend on it for sustenance and nourishment. A child is put on a saddle (ceremonially) at the age of three, and blessed (as in the poem above), to become a lifelong friend of the horse.

In a story of many firsts, as in the story of the apples (Part 1), the horse was first domesticated in Kazakhstan. Scientists from the University of Pittsburg have identified the settlement of Botay to be the first place where this remarkable transition occurred; and this event went on to change the political map of the world. There is a town called Atbasar near Botay: Atbasar means ‘to ride on horseback’. Kazakhs have been breeding horses for 5600 years, and researchers have even unearthed the model of the first bridles ever made.

Some of us may recoil at the thought of eating horse-meat but when you are a nomadic race, and have to travel across vast distances, you tend to maximize and stretch all that have. Waste is a luxury you can ill-afford when the cold wind blows through the steppes, and your next destination is both uncertain and unknown. In a semi-arid land with seasonal extremes, cured foods tend to become your dietary staples and animal hides your protection against the elements.

While Americans in general avoid horse-meat, it is quite popular in some countries in Europe, South America and Asia. Incidentally, Kazakhstan is the second highest consumer of horse-meat in the world after China! Besides meat, both horse and camel milk (shubat) are the source of year-round nourishment and health. Fermented horse-milk, called Kumis, a staple of yesteryears’ nomadic life, is now extremely popular and artisanal versions (in plastic bottles) are available on the roadside!

Herodotus, the Greek historian, mentions the Kumis in his writings about Greek and Scythian horse-raiders of the mountain-steppes. The curative powers of the Kumis is the stuff of legend: from leprosy to impotence and almost anything else in between!

In Almaty I had a local host, and I was overjoyed when he invited me to have lunch with his family. At last I would get to try some horse-meat and kumis, but honestly, I was a bit apprehensive. The Kumis was too pungent for my urban palate, but the besbarmak (the most popular and national dish of Kazakhstan) looked appetizing. It is essentially boiled horse-meat (can be substituted) served on a bed of flat, rectangular, noodle sheets, alongside a broth. The texture and fat-quotient was new to my palate, and I have to confess that I struggled: it is an acquired taste, after all. I feasted on the Manti (minced lamb dumplings), Baursak (close to a fried doughnut) and Pilaf (a close cousin of the Biryani).

Post lunch, as I walked outside my host’s house, I could see a few horses grazing in the distance. Then my host pulled up in his Datsun to give me a ride to my hotel. As I stepped in, an inevitable observation crossed my mind: The old Kazakhstan was fast disappearing; a new one teetered on the edge of modernity!

See Kazakhstan Part 4.

The only recognised personality from Kazakhstan is Borat, and he is a fictional character! Sasha Baron Cohen’s parody is world-famous but the locals don’t take very kindly to it for the gross misrepresentation it inflicts on their society and culture.

I became aware of this very soon after I flew into Almaty (earlier Alma-ata), the second-largest city in Kazakhstan. The people are friendly and helpful, though constrained by the language barrier, which is essentially Russian. Women drive cars, dress well, many are outgoing and smoke, some are doctors or professionals, and are quite independent with their views on any subject ranging from domestic issues to political ones. The crime rate is low and travellers are free to roam the country without fear.

Such a beautiful and large country and not many of us know much about it. It is the size of Western Europe; and is ranked 9^th largest in the world, just after Argentina and India. It has borders with Russia, China, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan.

The physical geography of the place is in your face; the low density of the population gives its vistas an eerie beauty filled with calm and tranquillity.  The gorgeous steppes, dotted with horses and yurts (round tents); Yester-world villages nestled between high mountain passes; and scores of glaciers, canyons, and lakes abound everywhere.

It has a rich biodiversity: remember it is the original home of the apple and many other food crops, it has vast stretches of steppe grassland, cold desert-scapes, and conifers line the mountainsides.

This surreal place is home to Kazakhs (from the Turkic word for Free Man), Russians, Uzbeks, Ukrainians, Germans, Tatars, and Uyghurs. The reason why this country is shrouded in mystery is because Russian Tsars closed the country to foreigners, and the Soviet Union did no different. They used it Gulags (Soviet Labour Camps), nuclear test sites, and bases to launch their space missions.

Kazakhstan, which is part of the Eurasian Steppe Route, the forerunner of the Silk Route, has been visited by warriors and adventurers over the centuries. In ancient times some myths existed: it was an unexplored and inaccessible world, a place of dragons and monsters. Herodotus wrote about its deserts and impassable mountains wreathed in eternal mists, and of a tribe of fearsome female warriors known as the Amazons!

Originally, the nomadic Scythians resided here, but have since vanished. Alexander the Great fought in the Battle of Jaxartes (Syr Darya) against them. In the 13^th Century, the Kazakhs were subjugated by the Mongols under Genghis khan. By the 18^th Century, they were absorbed into the Russian Empire.

Do Kazakhs eat horse meat and drink camel milk?

See Kazakhstan Part 3.

“It was the first of September and the time when the apple ripen. We could see with our own eyes that here we were in a remarkable centre of origin of apples…”

– From the book, Five Continents by Nikolai Ivanovich Vavilov

The birthplace of the apple has been hotly debated throughout history. Food historians and biologists thought it might have been the ancient Romans, but others peoples like the Nordics, Baltics, Celts, Swiss, and even Americans, have laid claim it. All this was put to rest in 1929 by the great Russian geneticist, agronomist, scientist, and geographer Nikolai Ivanovich Vavilov.

When Vavilov stumbled into the forests on the slopes of the Tien Shan mountains outside Almaty, Kazakhstan, he immediately recognised the area as a ‘living laboratory where one can see the evolutionary process unfolding before one’s eyes.’ He had a simple theory: the likely origin of a species is the place where it shows the greatest genetic diversity. And that’s how the debate ended.

The locals of course had always prided over it: Almaty was called Alma-Ata (Father of Apples). In fact Kazakhstan’s diverse flora has been home to 157 direct precursors or wild relatives of domesticated crops.

Vavilov, who travelled the world collecting thousands of seeds established the world’s largest seed bank in Leningrad.  Celebrated through the 1920s, he was awarded the Lenin Prize, the highest decoration for Science. He has been called a genius for the sheer magnitude of his collection and the simplicity of his theories on agronomy and food security.

Vavilov’s genius could not save him from a disastrous end. He fell out of favour with the Stalinist regime, after Stalin’s failed experiment with farm ‘collectivism’, and was even branded as an ‘anti-soviet spy’ and saboteur. He died in a hard labour camp in 1943.

There is much more to this story of Vavilov: an unheard-of genius of the modern era who did as much work with plant biology and genetics as did Darwin with the animal kingdom.

The story of this literal ‘Garden of Eden’ and Vavilov’s genius fired me up so much that I had to make a quick dash to Kazakhstan!

Why is Kazakhstan shrouded in mystery?

See Kazakhstan Part 2.