I'm writing this on a long flight from Astana back to London (via Moscow) so this one is a little long, read on at your own risk....
Although Borat helped to make Kazkahstan a household word, the movie didn't do much for knowledge about the actual country... as such, not many people have much of idea where the place is (although it's not hard to find on a map, the country is very large), much less anything about what is there. But that's forgivable: Kaz is landlocked, far from any population centers, bordered by tall mountains and politically unstable/repressive countries. And flying over it for a couple of hours now, I can say that there is not a whole lot there. Lots of flat, arid, open plain (steppe). I can see a few dots down there, maybe they're camels.
This is not an easy country to get to from London. Only one airline flies there direct (BMI), and only three times a week, using a small plane that needs to stop in Moscow to refuel. On Monday afternoon I boarded this flight and touched down in the capital of Almaty in the early hours on Tuesday morning (8 hours travel plus 6 hours time difference). As we approached, the first rosy touches of dawn were appearing over the massive, snow-peaked Tian Shan mountains overlooking Almaty. A beautiful sight.
This was my first visit to Kazakhstan in over 15 years, and it felt like a sort of homecoming... this was where I had my first "real" job, in 1993. Having gone to Moscow as an English teacher after I finished college in late 1992, I managed to get hired by Deloitte & Touche Moscow as a "management consultant". I write this in quotes because as a comparative literature major I didn't know th first thing about management, or consulting, or business, although I did speak Russian reasonably well. But my employer wasn't too concerned about what I knew or didn't know: they paid me a local Russian salary ($300/month) and imediately charged me out as an expat specialist ($1000/day). By the time anyone figured out I was clueless they'd have made a lot of money off of me. At that time, all the consulting firms were swamped with projects from the World Bank and USAID to help the post-Soviet countries set up market economies. Two days after I started, with not much explanation I was sent down to join a project in Kazakhstan to help the government sell off small state-owned businesses to the private sector.
I remember my first arrival into Almaty well, because the managing partner in Moscow had given me $10,000 in cash to bring down to the project manager in Almaty (at the time bank transfers didn't really work). I was scared stiff that someone would steal this money from me, which would mean the failure of my first assignment and the demise of my budding career. For some reason, the Aeroflot flight I took that day didn't go directly to Almaty as it was supposed to, but instead made an unscheduled stop in another small city (Karaganda). The plane landed, slowed to a halt and everyone was asked to get out of the plane on the tarmac without further explanation. People got out and milled around on the runway, smoking and chatting casually. It was a mixed crowd of Kazakhs, mostly older men with leathery skin, and a few Russians; needless to say no foreigners. The old Tupelev just sat there on the runway; it was the only plane in sight, the airport was deserted. No one seemed particulalry surprised or concerned about the delay, but I was very anxious that someone would walk up to me, grab my briefcase and walk away. No one seemed to be paying attention to me, but I could not help feeling that my bag was glowing red and flashing "this American has lots of cash". After about an hour we filed back into the plane, which took off and arrived in Almaty a few hours later. At that point, I was able to relax: a driver was waiting for me on arrival with my name on a panel, making me feel quite important. I arrived at the office and dutifully delivered the stack of cash to my manager.
That delivery of cash was probably my most important contribution to Kazakhstan's privatization program. Over the next 6 months I travelled to a number of cities accross Kazakhstan (as I mentioned, it's a big country), did a lot of interpreting for visiting consultants from various countries, helped set up regional offices, spent time getting to know staff and local government workers, took hours of leisurely lunches and dinners, drank quite a bit of vodka, and was introduced to Kazakh culture and customs. But at no time was it clear to me, nor I think to my bosses, what we were suposed to be doing there. The idea was that we were to help facilitate the sale of various businesses -- barber shops and grocery stores -- to local entrepreneurs. The problem was that, after 80 years of communism, there weren't any local entrepreneurs, and anyone looking to become one was unlikely to have money or expertise. In any case, the local political elite (all former community party leaders), who seemed to find our presence amusing if slighly annoying, had long ago decided to lay claim to the assets for themselves and their friends.
Not that any of that mattered for me, it was all good fun. Over that time, I saw some remarkable scenery, from jagged snowy mountaintops to windswept steppe to the sandy beaches of the Caspian. I improved my Russian, learned a little Kazakh, and made some great friends, both expats -- such as Dennis, my friend now in Sedona, Arizona -- and locals. My best Kazakh buddy from that period was Beibit, who also worked as a consultant for Deloitte and like me was just starting his career. Like many Kazakhs, Beibit was quiet and softspoken guy, but he was indispensable for us: he spoke reasonable English and knew the lay of the land. Of our team of five (1 Kazakh, 3 Russians and me) the expat bosses treated me as the authority figure as I was an American, but over time it became clear that it was Beibit who got anything done that needed to be done.
I had dinner with Beibit on Wednesday night, seeing him for the first time in all these years. In brief, he's done well for himself, and is something of a poster child for the path to success in post-Soviet Kazakhstan. After I left in 1994, he stayed with Deloitte and Touch and eventually made partner, then moved to a big local bank where he is now in top management. He's involved in a dizzying array of business ventures across Central Asia (including his own citrus plantation and juice company) and is even investing in Florida real estate.
Like Beibit, Kazakhstan is doing pretty well these days. They've got a lot of oil (
a lot) plus heaps of gold, uranium and other natural resources. Almaty is far more prosperous than I remember it (fancy boutiques abound) but is still a charming, relatively low key city with lots of trees and great views of the mountains. After a couple of days I flew to Astana, the 15-year-old capital built in the middle of the steppe, which is a remarkable, crazy place: a smaller, Central Asian version of Dubai, mixed with a dose of Las Vegas. This is where the serious oil money is being spent. All kinds of wild audacious new architecture and over-the-top shopping malls (including one with an indoor beach). Fascinating, beautiful country... but a serious trek.
OK, running low on battery power... looking forward to getting home!
before and after...
