The next day my host sister, Ira joined me and my dad on a trip out of town to Turkestan, where the main attraction is Yasaui Mausoleum. This UNESCO world heritage site and pilgrimage site is the final resting place of Yasaui, a holy man in the 12th century. Check out the link to my pictures at the bottom of this blog because it's a really beautiful place. The mausoleum is partially covered with pretty blue tiles but construction was never finished. The front of the building is not decorated with the same tiles and the original scaffolding poles still stick out of the main arch. People in Kazakhstan say that three trips to the mausoleum are like one trip to Mecca. I don't think the rest of the Muslim world has even heard of this idea. It being my second time here I wanted to check out something new so I pulled out my handy dandy Lonely Planet book. About an hour away from Turkestan is Sauran, or the ruins of Sauran. It was once a Silk Road city that was inhabited until the 18th century. There really isn't much there but the remains of they city walls but the cool thing is that there is no one else there. You can walk along the ancient walls without being yelled at by a guard and imagine and old fortified city. We also found pieces of old glazed pottery. 
After the full day trip away from Shymkent, I decided to make plans closer to home. My roommate Dina, Ira, my dad and I went to Sayram, a village about half an hour from Shymkent that used to be a Silk Road city. We went straight to a local school and met kids there who were eager to show us around their town. We started off in the backyard of the school to see a tower called Kydyra Minaret. The funny thing is I have been to Sayram for sight seeing before, this past summer actually when a German tourist was visiting Shymkent, and I visited this tower which we had to search for. I had no idea it was just behind the school. The students also took us to see a few mausoleums and then the Friday Mosque, where girls were actually allowed in as long as they weren’t on their periods. I could tell that this was news to the girls because most of them seemed as if they had never been in the mosque. Most still didn’t want to go. We capped off our visit with a trip to the local museum which showcased Kazakhstani history as well as Sayram’s. Our guide was very eager to explain everything to us and one of the students did an excellent job translating so my dad and I could keep up with him.
On the way home we stopped at one of my best discoveries of the year. In fact it deserves its own paragraph! When riding the train from Shymkent to Almaty in the spring I spotted a bright green sign in Cyrillic that says Shymkent. However, from the train I could not figure out where it was. The street signs were too small and infrequent to read. This sign consumed me. I wanted to see it in real life. I wanted to take a picture with it, a full out photo shoot. I asked around but no one in Shymkent seemed to know where it actually is, if they had even heard of it at all. Major disappointment. Then during the summer when I went to Sayram with the German tourist, I saw it on our way back to Shymkent. I saw the sign! Since we had our own taxi on this most recent visit to Sayram and I was with some lovely company we stopped to take pictures with the coveted sign!
The next day we just got up, got ready and head off to the airport, but the funny thing about Kazakhstan is that it has a special way of welcoming you and it doesn’t let you leave. When my dad thought he was leaving Kazakhstan, Kazakhstan said no wait there’s more. We get to the airport an hour before his flight and no one is in line to check in. Strange. A short while later there is an announcement over the intercom. If it was in English the speaker system is so bad that I thought it was a foreign language. The flight would be delayed until 11 am because the plane hadn’t come in from Almaty. Okay not too long of a wait. Ten rolls around and all of a sudden another announcement stating the flight has been pushed back to 2 pm because the plane still hasn’t arrived. No big deal, it’s not like it’s the day before the Shymkent volunteers are hosting 20 people for a Thanksgiving dinner. At some point two representatives from Air Astana come around giving passengers a 500 tenge ($3.33) voucher to eat at the café in the airport. I didn’t even know the tiny airport had a dining establishment. The voucher somehow reaffirms that you’re in for the long haul. Some more time passes and finally my dad tells me I should get going because I had mentioned I had thanksgiving dinner grocery shopping to help out with. I kept insisting I stay because there was nothing to do in this airport. NOTHING! No arguing with my dad though, eventually I left after we hadn’t heard any flight changes in awhile. I head off to help with grocery shopping an emotional mess. It was really sad to leave my dad, but so nice to have someone from back home here visiting...me…in Kazakhstan. I get on with my day and get an unexpected call at 6 or 7 pm from my dad. His flight still hadn’t left! On top of that Air Astana wanted to put him on a bus to Almaty and have him find his own way to the airport. So many things are ridiculous about that suggestion! He hasn’t eaten dinner, he doesn’t speak Russian, the roads are so scary!!! Long story short he made it to Almaty fine but still couldn’t get a flight to India, where he was going to visit family. I think he ended up leaving over 36 hours after his original flight. What a mess! In the end though my dad said it was an interesting experience. I think that’s crazy. Is that interesting like actually interesting or ohhhh that’s ….mmm…interesting as in I can’t find words that describe how absurd the situation was. When he got to India my cousin sent me a picture of my dad from his Blackberry with a caption that read, “India accepts refugee from Kazakhstan”. Thanks for the laugh. And dad, thanks for visiting.
Hope you all had a nice Thanksgiving! Happy holidays, folks!
If you want to see pictures of his visit or of my second year here in
