June 13, 2012

I must be really losing my marbles for I got the departure time for my flight confused with the return flight and got up at 5:30am, after waking several times, only to find out my flight departed at 11:30am. I made small talk with Ryan before heading to the airport managing to hail a taxi on my own and sticking firm to the 20.00 somoni rate I had paid before. At the check-in counter, they refused to allow my carry-on bag onboard claiming it was too large for the overhead compartment. The immigration officer asked me for the green piece of paper I had received when I arrived from Nepal in February, but I had no clue as to where it might be. In the waiting lounge, I spotted two former colleagues from the PedInst and tried to get the female one to come to my aid, but she had gone through the security check  already and was not allowed to leave. The officer then called on someone else with more authority, and this person waved me through.

I joined my colleagues and I learned they were both on their way to Hyderabad, India where they had been awarded a summer scholarship to improve their teaching skills. It was the first time both of them were taking a plane, and not knowing the procedures, they had packed their snacks in their bags and these had been checked straight to New Delhi. I reassured them it was a standard procedure and their bags would be fine. We were later joined by a young woman, Halima, that seemed to know me and who was heading for a technology forum in Almaty. Our flight departed on time and it was completely uneventful. Valerie was waiting for me and we had  difficult time fending off the aggressive taxi drivers who even followed us as we tried to make our way out of the airport to take a bus as the taxi drivers were attempting to charge as much as $35.00 to take us to her apartment.

It took us about an hour to get on the right bus and then ride to her building. Her apartment is located on a busy intersection right across from the Kazakhstan Hotel and has a great view of the mountain from her eighth floor perch. It’s is only a big studio with a double bed and a comfy sofa. The building is the typically dreadful Russian-built style one with a rickety elevator and dark hallways. She pays $650.00 and it’d be considered a bargain in this city. Valerie had a bag of Dunkin Donuts coffee and a French press, so she made me a cup of coffee before we headed out to the American Corner  where she’d conducting the last seminar for the “Shaping the Way we Teach English” series. We were a bit late getting there, but none of the employees of the library had bothered to set up the equipment for the transmission and people were just sitting around the round table waiting. I went straight to the bank of computers and read the latest emails and Facebook postings while listening to the presentation on teaching English for Specific Purposes (ESP). It ended at 7:30 and there was no time for discussion, which seemed unfortunate, as the public library was about to close its door.

Two of attendees joined Valerie and me as we made our way to a pedestrian mall nearby where we ordered a shawarma for each of us while the rain started to sprinkle all around us. The burrito-style concoction was still a bland affair of chopped beef and some vegetables, French fries, and tons of mayonnaise. The students walked with us for a while, but as we approached Valerie’s neighborhood, the rain started in earnest and neither one of us was carrying an umbrella. I got soaking wet before getting to the apartment, took a shower and tried my best to make myself comfortable on the sofa.

First impression of the city: It’s a big one with tons of stores on the first floor of most buildings and apartment and offices on the remaining floors. It’s green with tree-lined streets and numerous pocket parks, it’s also relatively clean as the authorities have placed numerous trash bins for people to dispose of their trash. I only saw an older woman wearing a head scarf and was absolutely floored by the number of women walking around wearing micro short pants, sky-high stiletto heels and even midriffs being shown around. Pregnant women wore tight shirts and teenager girls walked around wearing the tightest jeans I had ever seen outside of Miami.