More than you know, it has become a blooming spring in Almaty. It is no longer a pale soviet gray with angry babuskas shoving children to the ground at supermarkets in order to get the last pound of beef tongue. Now, with the warm weather tempering their otherwise spiteful spirits, the babushkas are wearing short shorts and Rolling Stones tanktops much to everyone's chagrin. Mostly mine. I took a cable car to some foothills above the city with Andreas- a German landscape architect temporarily living in our building. Here is the view.
There was a yurt there.
Inside the yurt.
And a carnival for the kids. And adults. And monkeys.
While we were there dombra music was playing on speakers cleverly hidden throughout the foliage.
Andreas says "Tschuss mein schatz". Till next time.