“Kazakhstan.. Is that in Europe?” I was asked on a Friday night in a Spoons before setting off for the country in question. It’s a fair question, few have even heard of it, let alone been there. Locked into central Asia beneath Russia and spanning the borders of some of the southerly ‘stans, despite its colossal size, Kazakhstan is not well known by British uni students and is certainly worlds away from their lifestyle.
The differences in these two worlds became apparent embarrassingly quickly. I met many Kazakhs who, when asking me where I was from and where I studied, were amazed to discover that I studied at Oxford. It didn’t help that I often had to explain that I grew up in Cambridge. This double whammy of links with well-known university towns seemed to increase further the distance between me and them, as so many were genuinely impressed by it. They were overly complimentary of my very elementary Russian knowledge: I had only been learning for eight months at the time, and had had very little speaking practice. Compared to English people’s standards for foreigners learning English – which is often far too high given we rarely venture into the realm of foreign languages – people were so kind and seemed almost flattered that I, as a foreigner, was choosing to learn their language. This was both uncomfortable and a blessing. It did mean that people were very interested and hospitable towards me. Anyone who has been a foreigner anywhere, and who has had to cope with socialising in a new language, will know that it helps when someone takes an interest in you individually, as engaging in fast-paced group conversation feels so daunting at first. People really wanted to hear about my life in Oxford; my studies etc.
They often asked where else I’d travelled to. The first time I was asked, I listed off some of the classics, places that were not rare choices for lots of Brits to travel to: France, Spain etc. What I didn’t realise is that these are all very difficult places to travel to for Kazakhs. A long visa process and considerable funds are needed for any trip to Europe. You can’t just nab a £20 Ryanair flight to escape the country for a weekend! Moreover, because Kazakhs are more honest than Brits, they often told me straight up how jealous they were of me! I was wisely advised by our British friends, who were living there, not to list off places even if they asked you to, but to just talk about one trip in detail instead.
The week I was there, I saw the best of Kazakh generosity, constantly overfed with lunches and sweet treats, and they even constantly insisted on paying for my meals. I was told by our British friends that Kazakhs often overstretch themselves and are more generous than they can afford to be, so I should try to pay for some things myself. I waged war, determined to pay for meals, but not as determined as my hosts. One time I went for brunch with a Kazakh friend, intent on paying this time, but erroneously going to the toilet after I’d eaten, I came back to find that she had already covered the bill!
Being in Kazakhstan was also my first experience of being in a place that is not designed for tourists. Everywhere I had been before were classic tourist destinations, with services and companies in place to cater to them. Astana, despite being the capital, was no such place. This was probably partly why everyone was so interested in my life. Whereas in the UK we all have friends, or at least have met someone, from another continent, in Kazakhstan it is a novelty. Even the buildings were completely un-groomed for tourism. I can recall an instance when I walked around the Akorda Residence, the presidential palace, and instead of being met with snapping tourists as I expected, there were instead huge empty grounds with a few guards who patrolled, all eyeing me suspiciously. They asked me where I was from, and politely but gruffly told me to leave. Clearly, this was not a tourist attraction…
However, I think it is interesting to go to Astana precisely because it is not (or not yet) catered to industrial volumes of tourists. You get to see the city for what it is, and not for what it wants to present itself as (often the downfall of major tourist cities like Paris). The taxi drivers are always so chatty and were genuinely interested in where I was from, once they’d clocked my – admittedly – rather broken Russian, so you learn about the life and culture there very quickly. People are very open about their lives, every single aspect of them. I stayed with a twenty-three-year-old Kazakh girl for the week, and we were soon up to speed with each other’s life stories. She told me about her ambitions to set up a mental health retreat for girls in the outskirts of Astana, as well as her difficult childhood that has motivated her to provide mental health support for girls like her. She was always open to chats about personal matters and was so patient in listening to me trying to express myself in what could only be perceived by her as pre-school-level Russian. I felt like I’d known her for ages by the end of the week, because she didn’t pretend to be a tourist-friendly version of herself, just like Astana didn’t.
I cannot recommend Kazakhstan enough as a destination. Regardless of if you are learning Russian, although it is a good source of immersion if you are, it is worth visiting either way (with a guide, perhaps, as English is not widespread). I bet it will be different from anywhere else you have visited. You should go there precisely because the experience won’t be catered to tourists like you. At least you’ll know that both the hospitality and hostility that you may be treated with won’t be forced, you’ll be experiencing life in a country unfiltered.