My First Week in Astana? Why, It Was a Gas!

I have been criticized by at least one long-time reader for sometimes making jokes or other comments that are science- or engineering-based that no one else gets.  I hasten now to add grounds for such criticism by stating immediately that all-in-all, my first week in Astana was a gas.  It just happens that the gas involved is not a gas that one usually associates with a good time.  Rather, it was CH4 (methane), a warming greenhouse gas, that dominated my week right out of the starting gate.

Balcony View with the River Esil and Presidential
Palace in the Background

I arrived in Astana at 2:30am on Saturday morning a week ago.  Middle-of-the-night arrivals and departures are the norm for Central Asia, something I got used to during my two years in Tashkent.  The Foreign Service (FS) has a good tradition of assigning a social sponsor for every new arrival, and L.I. was waiting for me just beyond customs.  She took me to the apartment that will be my FS home for the coming three years.  My bed had already been made, the usual FS welcome kit of supplies was unpacked, and L.I. had thoughtfully stocked the kitchen and refrigerator with enough food to get me started.  I finally crawled into bed at 6:30am.

Up in the early afternoon, I became better acquainted with the apartment.  The furniture is standard State Dept. issue that we are all used to, not so elegant but well made and functional.  I had gotten unused to it during my year in the US.  Some of the kitchen appliances and other creature comforts are top end.  I'm still not used to the electric stove, and the refrigerator is hidden away to blend in with the cabinets.  The guest room comes equipped with a huge stall shower and a toilet that has space-age controls that I still haven't figured out.  The master bathroom has a whirlpool instead of a normal tub, a bidet, and a personal two-person sauna.  Like most of Astana, the building is only a few years old and was built to impress.  After just a few days, however, I came to realize that Soviet-style instant aging has not been stamped out fully.  Some creature comforts such as the centralized vacuum system just don't work right.  The electrical outlets are in unusual places, and there is not enough lighting.  The computer-based front door lock is still there, but it doesn't work and has been supplanted by a more traditional set of dead bolts.

Living Room

L.I. came later that first Saturday to take me to a reception in honor of the person I am replacing.  The next day she took me shopping.  I seemed reasonably well rested and ready to start the work week.

Kitchen

Then Monday and a whirlwind came.  I can safely say that this has been the most challenging starting week I have had since being on the Russia Desk ten years ago.  There was scarcely time to complete all of the normal check-in activities before having to come to grips with the fact that a Washington group would be arriving on Tuesday for a series of meetings related to the Global Methane Initiative and coal mine methane emissions.  There is no reason for any FS officer (FSO) to expect an easy start, but in retrospect I realize I made a mistake in allowing myself to be talked into attending a Monday-evening reception that destroyed all hope of an easy jet lag recovery.  Getting home from the reception after 9pm and only getting to bed after 11pm, I had my first night of jet-lagged sleep that saw me wake up before 3am.  That was the way it was to be for the rest of the week, just 3-4 hours of sleep per night followed by a caffeinated struggle to stay awake through the day as I accompanied our Washington group to what otherwise would have been very interesting meetings.  Instead, my entire goal was not to embarrass anyone by falling asleep at the meeting table.  My body was steadfastly proclaiming itself to be on the U.S. East Coast.

Guest Bathroom

Another Monday shock came when I inquired about my unaccompanied air baggage (UAB) and household effects (HHE).  I had packed out of Washington in mid-August in full expectation that this early pack-out would allow enough time for my UAB to arrive in Astana before I did.  (When I was posted to Tashkent, both the UAB and HHE had arrived before me.)  Thus I was stunned by the cheerful reply to my question as to the whereabouts of my UAB:  "Why, it's in Baltimore!"  That is as far as it had gone in over a month and a half.  I was told that it was good news that the shipment could now be expedited and might arrive in Astana in 2-3 weeks.  I shuddered to think that all I had brought with me in my suitcase were light summer clothes.  I was already coming to understand that early October in Astana is more like late November or early December in Washington.  Thank goodness the skirt I bought on the way to the airport in Istanbul was a long one made of wool.  It was the warmest article of clothing I had until a colleague saw me shivering in my light fleece jacket on the way to work.  The next morning she had loaned me one of her own jackets, more appropriate to the season, until my UAB arrives.  Once again I had experienced both the down side and then the brightest side of our service.  We do look out for each other in our small communities sprinkled around the globe.

My Guest Bathroom Toilet Requires a Users' Manual

On Thursday, one member of the three-person Washington group failed to show up.  His colleagues told me that he was quite sick and had stayed at the hotel.  In fact, they said, he should not have been at the meetings on Wednesday.  I then recalled how this one member of the group had been at pains after each meeting to get physically close to me to give me a quiet, almost whispered run-down of the meeting's significance and what he was hoping to achieve in the next meeting.  I had been thankful for the explanations at the time, but now I started to worry.

Master Bathroom Tub Is a Whirlpool!

I finally slept through the night for the first time on Friday.  I had made it though a very busy first week.  I took a walk into the city on Saturday to stretch my legs and get at least some exercise.  As I walked out of my building, I was greeted by the strong wind that Astana is famous for.  Even with the borrowed jacket, I was cold.  It was snowing lightly.  I was out for about three hours, in the process buying a hat and some groceries.  After getting home, however, I realized I should not have gone out at all.  Sure enough, I had the beginnings of a sore throat, chills, and a full head that just got worse through the night.  Today I have almost no voice.  I have another Washington group arriving in mid-week, but I'm realizing that I will need to stay home on Monday in hopes of getting over whatever I may have picked up during this week that was, most likely, bequeathed to me during discussions of methane.

A Sauna for Two

So that's the way it was during my first week in Astana.  It wasn't the easiest start, but a year ago I got quite sick at the end of my first week working in Washington while also dearly missing the life I had left behind in Romania.  When I first arrived in Bucharest in October 2010, I had considered my assignment to Romania to be part of a career-ending disaster.  In both cases, my first impressions were the opposite of what I would feel when the time came to leave.  As I shiver in the cold and with a cold and miss close friends and family, I remember that I've been through this before.  

Another Balcony View Toward Pyramid
Palace of Peace and Concord

With a faint smile and looking forward, I affirm again that why, of course, my first week in Astana was a gas.  The new adventure is only beginning.