The Astana Bike Commute

mercurial fog off the Ishim

Every year from March to October, Mark and I commute to work on bike. Most of our ride is on a path that hugs the edge of the Ishim River and we only have to pass through three lighted intersections. Most of our colleagues think riding a bike in KZ is dangerous and 100% mad thing to do. The highes climb of our 5.8 mile ride is 87 feet to get up and across the M-3 bridge. Flat ride, yes. But, Astana almost always has a headwind so we do get plenty of resistance training no matter what the season.

Spring riding brings an explosion of greenery, weed growth, and cottonwood puff. Plants around grow hard and fast here, making the lawn crew hustle double time on their tiny mowers. Summer brings early morning fishing thanks to the 4am sunrises, power walkers, and oblivious dog walkers with pets either totally off leash or stretched across the trail. Autumn arrived this week with sudden, cool temperatures that required me to unearth my nylon balaclava and thick neoprene bike leggings. I legit look like a diaper wearing cat burglar who baked in the sun all day. I kinda stay warm but not really, because the ride doesn’t allow enough time to build up a of heat. Every ride ends with ghost white feet and hands, blotchy cold weather rashes, and super dry skin.

This morning, the river temperature was higher than the air temp leaving the Ishim foggy and almost romantic (if it weren’t 6:45am). The grass was frosty and still, and the trees looked a lot skinnier than usual. Like most oldies, it makes me wonder if this early September weather change will mean early snow or extra snow this winter? Will we get to enjoy the fall color changes? Autumn in Astana always goes in a flash, but I hope I can manage at least two more months of irking my petty blue bike before the ice and snow show up to ruin my rides. I really do love winter here - it’s the best part of living in Kazakhstan, IMO.

summer time fishing squat

fancier north side of the river
we usually ride on the unfancy side as Schlinks do

Atyrau "Sturgeon" Bridge

Central Park Clock reminding me how late I am 

Qaraötkel Bridge and the St. Regis 
I prefer to call it the Argyle Bridge

Satan's asshole

presidential tractor beam 

If you’re feeling deflated

While on a walk with the dog this afternoon, I saw an advertisement on the side of a van that made me head straight back home to get my phone to grab a picture. For non-Cyrillic readers, the company name is Charlie Sheen Mobile Tire Service. Amusingly, “sheen” is a Russian variant for the word tire, so fist pump for the double entendre 👊! 

acrobatics plus magic plus sex equals: Circus of Water, Fire, and Light

​I went to a circus this weekend, and honestly, it was pretty great. Aside from several macaws that would roll over for a treat, one yellow boa constrictor, and a falcon wearing a bedazzled hood, there were no other animals involved in the performances. Instead, the show featured acrobats, magicians, clowns, dancers, and jugglers over the span of exactly two hours and forty minutes. A front row ticket only cost 20 dollars, and it was easily the most thrilling, funny, and fast paced circus I’ve ever watched. And sexy too! Shirtless men, riding crops, chains, women dancing on water rockets, an aerial love story with teeth, straps and rose petals… the visual bounty was as impressive and intimidating. Drama! Excitement! Scaries! Funnies! Lasers! I can see why some youngins (and oldies!) dream about joining the circus.

Curious about how one does just that, I looked up circus school info. The New England Center for Circus Arts tuition costs about $17,000 per year for three years for development in gymnastics, dance, acrobatics, trapeze training etc. An 8 week clown course by Red Nose University charges $248 whereas Montreal’s Zani Clown 8-month course is about $3,200. Maybe a certificate of completion helps, but experience definitely does, so get ready to submit not only performance videos, but calisthenic videos too, head shots, and show ability to be a part of group work. Some talent agencies only allow non-union applicants, others do. In post-Soviet countries, a circus performer typically earns between $300 and $1,500 per month. Circus gig life is a real hustle, but man- it's magical too.

red rose and ropes romance

acrobatics in skinny studded jeans is hard core metal

white jeans white hankey in a handstand

we mayyy have inadvertently joined a cult

lemon brothers flinging each other off a teeterboard

and mayyy have watched S&M

mascot?

at the Metro, on the metro (but don't call it the metro)

Driving to and shopping at Astana’s Metro wholesale store (like Costco but without deliciously cheap pizza) requires a special kind of mental prep. From our house to the store, it’s a 45+ minute drive through honky, car packed streets with zero-warning lane closures. There’s drivers that simultaneously watch YouTube and video chat with relatives, or they stop in the middle of the road altogether to chitchat with a fellow motorist, even after the light turns green. The Metro parking lot reeks of abandonment with its drab, concrete Soviet-esque awnings, busted overhead lights, pothole riddled asphalt, and twisted chunks of broken drain grates.

The store entrance looks promising with smooth concrete floors, big carts, wide aisles, and stacked products ready for purchase- the more you buy, the bigger the discount. For example, one box of Oreos costs $3.25. If buying three boxes, the price is $3.03/each and six drops it to $2.69/per. Same goes for most products in the store, except alcohol, which costs the same no matter how much ends up in the cart. Shame. Moreover, because of the incentive, shoppers will open anything boxed or shrink wrapped to make sure they get their proper discounts. Doesn’t matter whether its a case of canned tuna, juice boxes, or mini chocolate bars, they will open and count out 1,000 Chupa Chup lollies before they all get counted again at check out.

The store is equipped with more than 18 checkout lanes, yet only 2 will be open. Trust that the 63 year-old babushka in front of the line who bought four yogurt cups and a candy bar will demand her VAT refund paperwork, and it cannot ever be completed in one motion, nor in one location. VAT receipts require phone calls, ID verification, your first born, and at least three extra forms with THE official stamp, and that’s assuming their system is online. The store suffers line jumpers, price arguers, and frozen product leavers. The restroom offers no toilet paper, no door locks, no soap, and no toilet seats. I’m not talking about squat toilets either. The seats are literally missing, a real bummer after a long drive.

Why do I bother with trips to Metro, then? I do get an excellent squat workout in the bathroom but it’s mostly because of their excellent frozen green beans. I buy multiple 2.5kg bags at a time to make up for our green vegetable gap - there’s only so much broccoli one can stand, no one in the family eats zucchini, and the asparagus here is fat, rare, and pricey. Metro gets bonus points for its other frozen bulk items like cherries, strawberries, mango, and fruit cocktail, also 2.5kg bags. You just have to be willing to pay for it. The raspberry bag cost $42, double the price in America. One time I got a bag of frozen avocado halves and giant frozen pretzels. I’ve not found since that one time, but the hope lives on. Metro sells huge chunks of fabulous KazBeef prime cut steak and the best corn tortilla chips in the country. The bags are American size big too! Totally could have gone for a nacho night, but they were gone too. However, I did get a 7/8ths full case of tonic water and 5/12ths case of tomato paste, no discount for me. Like a deal hungry babushka, I asked the checkout lady to see if she could unearth the missing items, knowing full well they would not be found. Saving six bucks wasn’t going to make my giant bill feel any smaller anyway. But when at the Metro, do as the locals do.

To make this day feel extra metro-focused, once I got home from spending big at the Metro, I also rode on the metro, the Tarlan Astana LRT - but don't call it the metro though, lest you get corrected immediately: it's the LIGHT RAIL,
PEOPLE.

When we arrived to Astana two years ago, our local colleagues were long disillusioned about it ever coming to fruition. Conceptually born in 2011, the metro should have opened in 2017, but construction only began that year so opening day wasn’t until May 2026. One ticket costs 43 cents purchased from a station kiosk with multiple language options, so zero mental prep was needed. The train cars are driverless and fully automated and the line hits 18 stations along the way, including the airport. The LRT is not anywhere near our house so I had to taxi into the city first and I could immediately see the appeal for those living near a station. Mall culture is a thing here (especially in winter) and I did just that- via the metro I went from one mall to another to purchase movie tickets to Spider Man. If my planning was better, I could have also caught a hockey game or soccer match (or speed skating race, velodrome race, basketball game, or a martial arts competition, there are like six arenas within walking distance), stay at a fancy hotel, and visit the famous Baiterek Tower all in one trip using the metro’s current, single line. Imagine what I can do when they finish building future metro lines by 2050… I’ll be 69 by then so I could see the need for mental prep to go either way, really.

tidy stacks make anything seem possible

complimentary vests for coldies 

social norms of wholesale shopping be damned

view from the LRT blue line (and only line)

pretend you're riding the metro, then ride the metro

Abu Nasr al-Farabi Mosque, named after a Shymkent
born philosopher who died in 951.

Winterizing: Inside

America is currently cold as hell. Girl, Kazakhstan feels you. January weather around here has not been for the faint of heart, plunging as low as -27F, and that’s without a wind chill! Last week, thousands of people around the city willingly dunked their bodies into the Ishim River to celebrate Epiphany, a holiday that represents the baptism of Christ/Jesus, when the city was at its coldest. Participants would step down a set of wooden stairs, cross themselves, dunk three times into the ice laden river, and step out on a second set while onlookers and paramedics watched. People love this event, despite the indoor bickering I hear daily (and contribute to) about the Siberian witch’s tit cold.

As a result of extreme and dangerous temperatures, we spend more time indoors than I like. The city uses a central, steam heating system to prevent pipes from freezing so when the outdoor temperatures dip, the indoor temperatures soar. Dwellings and public places are heated to an extreme. Our foyer and kitchen are so hot, we have to wear sandals to keep our feet from burning. The dog pants and tries to find the best cool spots in the house, while we crack windows to balance out the intensity - but it feels like a messed up version of Lisa Simpson’s fish sticks from “The Last Temptation of Homer” (season 5, ep 9). Going outside takes at least ten minutes to gear up, and admittedly, is one of my excuses to avoid doing anything. I have to remind myself that malls, restaurants, arenas, and theaters have stellar coat check services to deal with the layers of clothes we have to wear.

So, winter. We deal with the snow and wind, try to avoid frost bite, and spend a lot of time indoors. Life in cold Kazakhstan is not any different than what people do in cold America: I read, doomscroll, workout, rage clean, nap, eat… and embrace the mindset of sucking it up and getting outside, even if taking the dog for a walk is less than the time it takes to dress and undress. I attend as many sporting events, concerts, and activities as possible to catapult my inertia into action. I’ve joined sketching sessions, tried Pilates and archery, and failed to enjoy a snow bath after roasting in the sauna
Recently, I enjoyed an amateur English comedy show that featured only female comedians. Screw any bravery for going outside, these women got on stage to a sold out audience and told jokes in their second, third language.

We have at least three more months of snow and probably five months before Astana feels spring-ish. But for now I look forward to next week with a balmy 20F forecast. 

Epiphany dunk on the coldest day of 2026

sending screen shots to my bestie with a sad face

Free office space: the coffee shop
artist led drawing classes

So much hockey. All the hockey.

Looking at murals without getting out of the car.

Banyaaaaaaa, drink, repeat

Basketball at the Velodrome

Warming up in one of the millions of coffee shops. Frequently. 

Buying new shovel parts. Again. We've gone through 5 so far.

comedy night at the Wein Bar. she was riot.

Tired

Autumn weather changes brought us cooler temperatures which meant the properties of the Ideal Gas Law were enacted. The low tire pressure warning on our car went off so I ventured to a gas station to top off. I had spare coins to feed the air compressor and a pressure gauge still in its original packaging. Only problem was, neither the first, second, or third gas station had air hoses.

One hour later of driving uselessly around the city, did it occur to me that among the endless pharmacies, beauty salons, and flower shops that I should visit a sheeno-montage (tire service shop) which are also found basically everywhere. And, changing out tires in Astana is a big deal, because by the first snowfall, winter grade tires are required by law.

The mechanic charged me the American price of about 8 dollars to top off four tires (the actual cost should be like one dollar - I found out days later). He could only be paid by the equivalent of Kazakh Venmo, which I did not have. I asked if he would take cash which I also, did not have.

Promising to come back, I drove off to find an ATM. Google fooled me twice with banks that didn’t exist, and when I did find one, only larger bills were available to withdraw. Thinking two birds one stone, I then drove to the store where I picked up some groceries, paid via credit and asked if I could make change with the equivalent of a ten dollar bill. Cashier said no, not allowed.

Fine. I bought a Snickers and handed over the bill, where she asked me, snapping her gum ala Tina from Sandford Somerfield Supermarket if I had anything smaller. I mean...

The mechanic probably thought I had absconded with free air, but I did return to pay - if 2 hours late. Next time, I will actually use my brain, save time and money, and use the sheeno located just 220 meters from home.

Tina. Hott Fuzz.

Was as if I had never connected tires with air before.

30 second drive from my house

I guess he charged me for premium air.

Open 24 hours!

Burabay Adjacent, KZ

For those who want to do a mountainy, tree stuffed getaway, but don’t want to deal with oblivious boaters or hikers elbowing their way up the rapidly balding overlook to Burabay Lake, choose a camp located away from the lake. The same friend who invited us the first time, organized a schools-out-hurrah-celebration at the Aspen Eco Hotel. Technically, the hotel is located in an unpronounceable city called Shchuchinsk (Shoot-chins-k) but we’ll just say Burabay. More a glamp site than hotel, the deciduous forest surrounds the property and there’s a natural spring pond, good for swimming and paddle boarding. Any sane lodging developer in the post-soviet region would include a sauna paired with a giant galvanized, wood burning hot tub, which it did. Their individual dome rooms come with loft beds, ac, bathrooms and showers, and a hot tub. I like glamping and I am very good at it.

My friend and her family trained up, while Margo and I chose to drive this time. (Note to train riders: passports are required for all passengers and they DO check.) The dog, Mark, and Deets were invited but bailed last minute, so instead, our entire back seat and trunk was filled with multiple kilos of lamb chops, chicken, and beef, sagging bags of vegetables, crates of strawberries and apricots, watermelons, several different types of junk food accouterment, and champagne. I one hundred percent did not think we would eat all it the short time we had, but determined minds and stomachs prevailed. Between relaxing, practicing handstands, playing tag, swimming, and splashing all of the water from the hot tubs from said handstands, tags, and attempts to swim, the kids ate nearly everything.

After the sun went down the site manager set up a movie screen and showed the guests Russian dubbed “Runaway Bride”. Not having thought about Richard Gere in a very long time, my friends, fellow glampers and I discussed Gere movies. As a weird child, I watched “Pretty Woman” countless times. I liked that Vivian knew car stats and had big feet and how she Arsenio Hall fit pumped during the polo match. I know that movie didn’t age well, but I loved how Edward got over his stupid pride, figured out what a bad-AMF Viv was, and went to get her. In the meantime, the others unanimously said Gere’s best movie was “Hachi: A Dog’s Tale” and were equally shocked that I never heard of this movie. They immediately set to educating me on the depth of the movie’s far superior love story between a man and his dog. Fair enough. 

Stars were out, the air chilled to hoodie perfection, and the kids fell asleep before we did, so the adults went for a sauna - a wild 10pm activity for someone who loves a 9pm bedtime. The next morning we ate an English breakfast at the outrageously early 9am hour (they said breakfast was normally between 10-12) and had enough time to swim and paddle board before driving back home on the shockingly smooth spacious highway with a 130kph speed limit. My only regret for the weekend was stopping at a gas station outhouse with so many flies they could have eaten my carcass cartoon style if I passed out from the quantity and smell and fell through the broken, rusted floor. Margo would have had to drive the car home instead, and I’m sure she would not have liked that.

Making friends

SUP

Airat, Grillmaster

Snacking between meat courses.

Progression of springtime in Astana

Over the course of a 7-day spring break trip, all of the snow in Astana disappeared. No more snow bar, no more gravy colored snow piles, and no more rutty ice streets. No more shoveling! Outdoor activity has now evolved to pot-hole repairing, bike commuting, and enjoying longer periods of daylight. It's only April and we have over 14 hours worth of it! Hello 5am sunshine!

Green color is exploding everywhere. Except, for our yard. Our grass looks like it’s going through detox from waterlogged soil, embedded stuffed animal fluff, unsupervised dog mischief, and her spring-is-here zoomies. Mark has faith our yard will recover and wants to plant a sea of mint, green beans, and pumpkins. Considering my skills in gardening and keeping-the-dog-out-of-the-theoretical-garden are subpar, I don't share his positivity.

Ticks are also exploding everywhere. This week alone we've picked 7 off the dog, even with routine application of Frontline, so you can imagine how much fun I'm not having. Our previous dog got sick a couple of times from probable tick infections, once in Brazil and once in Namibia. Watching him malinger and fight off infection was hard on everyone. Then there's the human side of the family, all of whom enjoy wrestling our current dog, Ginsburg, and exploring the great outdoors, preferably in shorts and going barefoot. Tick checks just might end up being an awkward family affair because I'm not cool with anyone getting sick. 

I don’t have time for anyone getting things like tick borne encephalitis (TBE), Crimean-Congo Hemorrhagic Fever (ominous right?!), tularemia (rabbit fever, cute but no thx), or Lyme - all of which have similar initial symptoms such as fever, headache, body aches. Later symptoms make each individual illness shine… 

Entomologists think three of the 30 known tick species in KZ carry these diseases, and about 50 cases per year are reported according to Parasites & Vectors. On paper, prevalence isn't super high but with TBE, infection is immediate so we recommend KZ long-timers to get vaccinated for it. Plus the full vaccine course is like 90% effective. It’s kind of a no-brainer. (For clarification, CCHF infected ticks give you about a1-7 day window after the tick bite, tularemia is about 3-5, Lyme disease is 48-72 hours.)

At any rate, I’m super glad spring is here. I look forward to see what the city does for its vast amounts of garden beds and pedestrian walkways. I look forward to trees and plants blooming, even though I might end up quadrupling my citirizine to get through it, and seeing pale, wan faces turn into the warming sun. In conclusion, ticks are gross.

My favoirite is the team of 3 standing in the back of the truck
Which is full of hot asphalt.

First commute of the season!
Ishim River

Puppy taking in the sun along a 6-lane street.

No idea what these are in our yard, but they are GREEN.

The a-hole that was in Ginsburg’s fur but I panicked  And flung my arms in despair, resulting in whipping my pants off looking for it, but I couldn’t find it, until it crawled down my shoulder 15 minutes later in the kitchen and I freaked, taking a meat hammer to it. but not before taking this picture of course.

Freshly shaved giant schnauzer and hubby on the weird colored lawn.