While in Kazakhstan I haven’t been able to engage in exercise in the same way that I do at home. At Carleton, I’m a part of two clubs, gymnastics and juggling, which give me more than enough exercise for the week (yes, juggling counts as exercise). These activities are hard to replicate here in Almaty, though. One activity that I can replicate is walking, and luckily for me, Almaty is a city apt for walking. In order to stay healthy, I try to walk home from school daily if the weather permits. This is an important event for me. I take time to listen to music and clear my head before delving back into schoolwork. I try to appreciate the city around me, its people, and the experiences I have here. Now, I’ll take you all on a journey through my walk home and the thoughts that accompany me.
After class, I head west along Timirazev Koshesi, one of the main roads in Almaty, usually accompanied by some friends who are heading home as well or want to grab boba tea and study. Timirazev is a testament to something that I’ve come to deeply appreciate about Almaty: its public transportation system. The road is 4 lanes wide and the middle 2 lanes are bus lanes. This means that a bus should be after to head along Timirazev as efficiently as possible; no cars in the way, no pulling over (the bus stations are located on islands in the middle of the street). The fare for a single ride on the bus (or the metro) is 80 tenge which roughly translates to ¢18. If you receive a pension or are a student, the fare is reduced to 40 tenge (¢9). Buses can take you all over the city and they run frequently. The sidewalk is beautifully designed as well. It provides pedestrians with a constant stream of shade.
Recently, the trees bloomed so the walk along Timirazev is covered with shade. After stopping to get some boba, I continue west. I cross the street to prepare to head north after a few blocks. The street is relatively well-trafficked. Therefore, the stores found there are generally chains. Additionally, there are a lot of vendors on the side of the street selling cheap clothes, fruits, and small trinkets. Along my walk, I only ever encounter one busker. He is always stationed outside of the Kaspi store (Kazakh bank) with either a speaker and a microphone or his guitar. He has a bucket for change, but usually, I see people take a picture of his Kaspi code (similar to Venmo payments but payments are conducted through the bank directly). This is a reminder of the modernization of Kazakhstan. I often worry that those back home don’t understand that Almaty is a modern city, and Kazakhstan a modernizing country.
As I head north, I make sure that I’m on the right path by craning my neck down the street, searching for the golden tops of the mosque, a reminder of the county’s predominantly Muslim population.
I don’t have much else to say about this structure other than to note its beauty. Every day, whether walking or on the bus back, I take time to appreciate it.
As I walk north I am often reminded of one of the most defining characteristics of Almaty. Due to its location at the base of the mountain, it is sloped. Therefore, as I walk north, I am always walking slightly downhill, which is a nice treat after a long day at school. The angle is not so severe that you worry you’ll fall but it’s just enough to be noticeable. Locals use the slopedness to talk about directionality in the city. Walking down is north while walking up is south.
The further downhill I walk the more residential my surroundings become. Many of the buildings are Soviet-era apartment buildings with small, children’s playgrounds out front, often accompanied by small, caged turf fields. These setups are copied and pasted around the city. Because of this, I always feel like I know where I am, even if I’ve never been there before. This style and its ubiquity are comforting to me.
As I come to the bakery, I know that I need to turn west for the final leg of my journey. There’s not much to note during the final 10 minutes of my walk. I walk under the canopies of the trees, always appreciative of the shade they provide me. The street is lined with dentistry practices and convenience stores. The final site to see is the colorful remains of an abandoned supermarket.
At the end of this block, I turn right into the apartment complex in which I live. I buzz up to my apartment and wait for the ringing to stop so that I can repeat the daily phrase, “It’s Alex.”
(All credits to Grace Werner for the idea to write about my walk home.)
