Kazakhstan, Turkistan, Shymkent, Turaz

All is well in Kazakhstan. I have been on the move by train, bus, taxi and foot. I have met some very lovely people along the way that are more than willing to help. There are not many people who can speak English, but I think I have lucked out and been able to find them. It is funny they all want to know why I chose here of all places to come. They don’t understand my wish to see the Stans. I think that I should keep track of how many times I get asked why did you come to Kazakhstan and why are you not married; they also don’t get that one.

I took a 14 hour night train to Shymkent and then a four hour bus ride to Turkistan to see the Yasaui Mausoleum (pictured on the left). It was an interesting visit. That is all that is there besides a really small town, so I took many photos to make it worth my visit. Again people are intrigued that I am a tourist here, sometimes they think I am a journalist. But when I say no a tourist, they say why Kazakhstan? I say why not? Well you think I am kidding when I say I am the only tourist here, well there must be others, but at the motel I just stayed at they have 40 rooms and I was the only one at the place. It is worth mentioning too as I felt like my room was a fish bowl. It had 14 foot high ceilings and two walls of glass partially covered with a curtain. It had a store like feel to it. I later found out that it use to be a mall that they converted to this motel and that I was staying in a former store. The main level is still shops and is attached to a hotel.

I arrived in Turaz and visited the market, I was a little leery of taking my camera out, but decided to and the babushkas loved it. I took photos of them and then would show them the picture and they would light right up and start smiling and giggling. So today there are some intestine, liver and sheep’s heads for you, sorry to the vegetarians in the crowd.

On the train between Shymkent and Turaz I shared the car with three other women and a three year old. The one woman spoke a little bit of English and loved hearing about my trip and looking at the pictures on my camera. She was adamant that I not take her picture, “secret” she said. It turns out I was traveling with a secret service police officer for the president. She was lovely and as it is the thing to do on trains, you share food; she fed me, bread, bananas, an orange, kabasa and a boiled egg. She wasn’t interested in my two minute noodles but we split one of my chocolate bars between the four of us.   

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