CauKazEthnoexp. XII. Kazakhstan. Part I. Atyrau, Aktyubinsk, Aralsk, Baikonur

August 5–10, 2010

I had previously only been to Almaty, and had wanted to travel the rest of the country for a long time. This didn’t end up happening during the first ethnographic expedition because Moumousique completely fell apart on the way. The second expedition went through Ukraine, so Kazakhstan remained in my dreams. But here I am at last.

The very first villages we encountered on our way were completely mind-blowing. It was hard to imagine that such mud huts exist anywhere outside Africa.

We will achieve the victory of communist labor! Juice, water, beer, wine, vodka, cigarettes.

But it’s a fact: this is how Kazakhs live.

Well, actually they all live differently. Some villages resemble Russian ones, some—Mongolian ones, and some—New York ones. Kazakhstan can be nominally divided into three regions: the Main City (Almaty), Cosmos (one square kilometer in the Center of Astana) and the Rest of the Steppe. The third region encompasses everything which isn’t part of the first two, including Baikonur.

Kazakh cemeteries were a true aesthetic discovery. Their size is comparable to that of villages and rural towns, but the quality of the materials is obviously superior to the villages and rural towns. A tomb is usually the size of a house and made from stone. You get the impression that Kazakhs dream of living longer and better after death than in life.

The personalized memorials on the sites of drivers’ deaths also back up our assertion that everyone in Kazakhstan has the opportunity to stand out—so long as they’re dead.

Kazakhs, like Mongolians, are indifferent to trees. So there are usually no trees in the villages. But how they love posts here! It’s absolutely unbelievable.

It’s not just the villages—the entire steppe is studded with posts in all directions.

If Kazakhstan loses all its sources of income, it will be able to continue existing for another hundred years simply by exporting posts.

The steppe has occasional other adornments besides posts. Among them, we can count decorative roadside monuments.

Public service ads.

Drinking and driving kills. Sooner or later, always. Don’t drink and drive.

The fauna. Definitely the fauna.

And the number 2030, signifying the year up until which the president has sketched out a development strategy for the country.

Atyrau (ex-Guryev)

An ordinary featureless city.

Apartment building entrances are numbered with respect—with Roman numerals.

Entrance-IX, apt. 81-90

The bus stop is so wide and tall that a bus would fit in it like in a hangar.

A pay phone.

Posts are decorated with ethnic ornaments.

President Nazarbayev is everywhere. With students, nurses, soldiers. With his people, in other words.

On the President’s team for a strong Kazakhstan!

And his people are with shawarma.

Aktyubinsk

The city has its own unique crosswalks, which resemble film strips. With additional zebra-stripe perforations at the edges. Like in Sierra Leone.

There are three kinds of posts here. Lattice ones, like in Petrozavodsk.

Ones with complex heavy bases decorated in the Kazakh style. Each of these has to have a plexiglass Jedi sword in front of it, which lights up at night order to beautify the city even further.

And posts with a Greek ornament.

There are two types of traffic light posts. With a striped base (hello to Paramaribo).

And with a square skirt (hello to Klintsy).

An Aktyubinsk trash can.

A post box.

Photo printing, typing, document printing, scanning, photocopies.

Gagarin with Putin’s face.

An absolutely unbelievable construction: a pedestrian crossing sign pointing to a pedestrian crossing sign. So that nobody gets confused.

And posts and steppe all around.

Steppe and posts.

Aralsk

A strange feeling. The Aral sea was once here (hence the name), and the city was a port. Then the sea disappeared, but the city continues to exist for some unknown purpose.

All the decorations have a nautical theme.

Seagulls, sails.

But none of these things can be found here anymore. The sea is dead.

Yet the city still exists for some reason.

Baikonur

Here it is—the long-awaited Baikonur.

This is the place from which people fly into space.

Roscosmos

The city looks like a housing project surrounded by a concrete fence. Inside the fence is Russian territory.

Outside are the locals who work as service personnel, a small market and an endless dump.

Everything that’s been left outside the fence sort of doesn’t belong to anyone, so the locals take it home to beautify and improve their burrows.

It’s like you’re in a dystopian sci-fi movie.

With posts and steppe all around.

Steppe and posts.