Dear Grandchildren,
Happy Pioneer Day!
Kazakhstan. The name evokes images of the Silk Road and fine horses and falconry at its best. The capital city, Astana, also has a superb bike team that was entered in the past several editions of the Tour de France. We did not go to Astana where the wind blows like in Kansas. We went to Almaty, the biggest city in the country (about 1.8 million inhabitants) and former capital city. It now serves as the financial headquarters of the country. And it sits near a high range of mountains.
We flew overnight from Istanbul to Almaty. Not much of a night. Less than five hours on the flight. I took half a sleeping pill when we boarded and, for the first couple of hours, felt pretty groggy. I just couldn’t go to sleep. Usually I do. After the dinner came, I dropped off to sleep for more than an hour. The pill helped. We arrived about five o’clock in the morning, about two a.m. our bodies’ time. The airport is not very big for one that receives a lot of international travelers. Once inside the terminal, we were scrunched into the first arrival hall where a bank of passport control booths sat. International passengers, including some who had arrived on a flight just before ours, all queued up in one massive line. And the agent helping those in that line seemed to be taking his own sweet time. Slow, slow, slow. We stood in that line for twenty minutes and moved hardly at all. After the lines for residents cleared out, and agents began accepting international travelers, we jumped lines and were out the door in fewer than ten minutes. The light was just coming to the countryside when we stepped into our taxi cab for a quiet drive into the city. We showed the fellow the name of our hotel, he nodded, and we drove away from the terminal.
The first thing I noticed was the greenery. The road was banked with tall trees. Bushes and flowers were everywhere. The lawns were not particularly well kept, but there was a lot of green. It is apparent that the place receives a lot of moisture. Then I noticed the mountains in the distance — to the south and east. The peaks still have a lot of snow on them. Later I was told by one of the senior volunteers that the border between Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan runs along the tops of the southern mountains. When we reached our hotel, as the driver informed us, we climbed out of the taxi, paid the driver, allowed the bell boy to take our small bags, walked up the steps, and stepped into the hotel lobby. The entry looked suspect for a nice hotel. At the reception desk, the young woman told us that we were in the wrong hotel. Oops. By then, the taxi had disappeared, having successfully dropped its load. Then the young woman told us that the real hotel was close. Six minutes later, we walked inside the true hotel. Because the hotel room had been booked for the night before, we went immediately to our room, off-loaded some of our items, went to a very nice breakfast at seven o’clock, and then returned to our room where we slept until about one o’clock in the afternoon. It was good to catch up on a little sleep, I must say.
Both that afternoon and the next morning we were treated to some of the highlights of the city by the two senior couples who are assigned to Almaty, including an old Russian Orthodox cathedral which is still functioning. One couple is from Australia and the other is from Ephraim, Utah. Dinner together the first night was in a large, native restaurant which had hardly anyone in it. We ordered the customary dishes for the country, one with rice and one with noodles. The total cost for the six of us, with large drinks, was about $12 total. Not bad.
The flight back was the worst. We awoke at four o’clock and the flight left at 6:45 a.m. I didn’t sleep a wink, but I didn’t take a pill either. This is one flight when I should have taken my noise-cancelling Bose headphones. I didn’t. A small girl was a few rows behind us with her mother. She really had a set of lungs. Her cries were something to die for, or to die from. My goodness! Even if I had been sleeping, she would have cured me of any touch of sleepiness.
We were sixteen in our Sacrament Meeting today, eight came to the hotel room and eight joined us by Skype. By happy fortune, a young woman who was baptized last year has joined us again after the ending of the school year (she has been in college a long distance from here). We were grateful to welcome her back among us. In fact, she and we were together as a threesome for our first Sacrament Meeting in the hotel a year ago.
I love you and pray for each of you every day.
Grandpa Brown
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