Over the river and through the woods...a trip into rural Kazakhstan

Because of our interest in local customs we were invited by a colleague of Brett to come to visit her family and home in a village in northern Kazakhstan. At first we were not sure if it was merely a polite invitation or a legitimate one. She assured us that she and her family would love to have us and we agreed. The next thing we knew she was giving us the dates of our trip north (the weekend before we left for the US for a month).

We packed for our trip unsure of what to expect, so we decided to be mentally prepared for everything.
We were still surprised. :)

After a six hour train ride up to the city of Petropavlovsk (we were on the new "Spanish Train") we exited the train in high spirits. This particular train station is actually still owned by Russia, and they have the train station on Moscow time (even though it is located in KZ and is two hours ahead....yes, I know). Our friend sent us to stand away from her while she bartered for a taxi to drive us the half hour to her village.

On the way she pointed out the sights, one of which was a neighboring village where the local hero cyclist is from.  Alexander Vinokourov won gold in the Men's road race in the 2012 London Olympics, as well as other international races and as such endeared himself with the whole nation.

Upon arriving in her village (after crossing the river) she discouraged the taxi driver to drive down her dirt street due to the potholes (he did anyway). Her parents were immediately outside welcoming us to their home. It was around this time that I realized there was not running water, and the outhouse was across the yard.

We went inside and moved the low table into the main room to eat. Food is very important in KZ, especially for guests. Around the table we were situated on the floor. Brett was given the head of the table and I at his right side. The children next to us, all in the place of honor. Our host family situated themselves towards the door, the position of servitude. I cannot explain fully their kindness and genuine delight to have us in their home (especially the children). Noah made quick friends with her father (Dadushka--Grandpa) and was happily conversing to him in English, and he to Noah in Russian. We went on a walk down to the river and saw the village children swimming in their underwear. So we thought, "when in Rome." :)

Upon returning to their home we were again fed, and they began cooking supper on the outdoor stove. At seven we went to pick up the sheep from the Shepard. Olivia ran after them guiding them home. After another meal, around ten o'clock, the cows came home. That's right, they came home - by themselves. It was great :). Olivia and I were invited to watch and participate in the milking (Olivia was enthralled, and it was around this point that she earned the nickname "village girl" from the locals). After separating the milk and cream it was around midnight (it still looked like dusk) and time for bed. The sun was up around four AM, and we were up at six. Time to milk the cows. :)

After breakfast (which Babushka-Grandmother had gotten up early to make Noah's favorite KZ dish)
Dadushka had arranged for us to go on a wagon ride. We were then paraded around the village and brought back down to the river. Where our children joined the locals with much delight.

After returning home for the afternoon we were informed that we would be going to a Russian bathhouse. It was awesome, and Brett says he will build us one someday. It was a small room that a neighboring family had built on to their humble home, sauna style with hot rocks, tubs of hot and cold water, and an empty tub that you mixed the water together to bath. WE WERE SO GRATEFUL, because we were feeling rather scrubby that this point.

After our bath we were back at the home to eat once again. This time Dadushka had spent his night marinating lamb for Shashleek (or lamb kabobs). It was delicious as we gathered around the pit, and ate right off the sticks.

The next morning we said goodbye to our Kazakh family, and went back into town. After meeting new friends and seeing the sights we boarded the train to head home to Astana.