Stan Chronicals -- First Edition

Stan Chronicles I

So I had my luggage wrapped at the Almaty airport before leaving for Semey. Our coordinator, Marina said that we would go past the military post and get our baggage weighed and tickets for the flight on the left once we were through the checkpoint. After security pushed us through I took the first left and there were 2 men mumbling something at me standing at a little stand with some sort of platform that was about the size of a suitcase. I handed him my bag, he mumbled something else that I couldn’t understand in Russian, shrugged my shoulders and took out my wallet because we new we had to pay extra for our overweight luggage. The rest of the group all lined up behind me waiting for their turn. The two men picked the suitcase up put it on the platform and pulled out a roll of packing tape. They taped around the front once, than again, than again. They than turned it over and taped the other side. In about 30 seconds they had completely encased my suitcase in packing tape. It was about this time that Marina snuck through security and asked us what we were doing. “Did you wanted your bag wrapped?” she asked. “No, I wanted it weighed.” So she pointed me to what was obviously the ticket counter. Anyway, it cost me 860 tenge but I had the most secure luggage of anyone in the group.


Stan Chronicles II

Our flight to Semey was delayed about 2 hours which kind of sucked because if you had to go to the bathroom you had to leave the gate and then go back through security when you returned. After we had waited about an hour we went back to the ticket counter to make sure that we hadn’t missed the flight as all of the announcements were in Russian and Semey in Russian is not pronounced Semey. The Ticket counter lady assured us that the flight hadn’t left yet and just smiled. “Very, very, small plane.”

When they finally called our flight, all of the locals that were on the flight let us know that it was time to go. They had been watching us fidget for the last 2 hours and knew we were all confused Americans. We descended the stairs to the tarmac where they put us on a bus heading to the far end of the airport. As we crossed the runways the planes kept getting smaller and smaller. First there were large 747’s, Lufthansa Airbuses, regional jets, private planes, and than our ride to Semey. From the outside it looked old but not in any way unsafe. After we got off the bus we had to carry our luggage onto the plane. All our luggage…including my shiny-wrapped 55lb bag, and Michelle’s less shiny 60lb suitcase, as well our three carry-on bags. We had to enter up a narrow ladder that was probably only 18 inches wide into the tail of the plane. The interior of the plane was….sparse, to say the least. There were no overhead compartments, no under-the-seat compartments. You kind of just put your bags in a big pile and than climbed over the pile to grab a seat. First come, first serve on the seating. I had to make a second trip down to the tarmac to pick up the other big suitcase so I was the last one to get on board and had to grab the last seat on the other end of the plane from Michelle. When I say seats I should clarify, they were more like lawn chairs*, about 16 inches off the ground with no headrest, comfortable enough I suppose. The walls of the plane looked like the insides of a tin can, shiny metal with little windows and a heavy steel door to the cockpit. The takeoff was uneventful. Michelle asked from across the aisle if I had my seatbelt on. “Really, why? Do we have seatbelts?” I’m pretty sure if there is a problem that we aren’t going to see oxygen masks dropping from the ceiling and my seat cannot be used as a floating device. Shortly after take-off the stewardess (yes stewardess even!) came around with a refreshment of hard candy and tap water.

Overall, this was my favorite flight. I felt very Indiana Jonesish. Most people fell asleep shortly after we got into the air. As we flew out of the heavy fog of Almaty, you could see the Tian Shan mountains to the east, beautiful snow capped peaks jutting out of the landscape, sharp and distinct against the clear blue sky. We passed over the Kaz Steppe, the plains that were now frost covered and carved with torturous, frozen-over rivers. We were in Asia now, really in Asia.

*Editor’s Note: The chairs were nothing like lawn chairs. This is a myth perpetuated by Americans all too eager to invoke poetic license for the purpose of dramatic effect. ~Mich


Stan Chronicles III

So how did I end up here, in Semey, Kazakhstan, locked in the toilet? The bathrooms are different here. There are separate rooms for the toilet and the shower & sink. I noticed when we first got here and Michelle was in the toilet room that she had trouble working the lock. It took her a few seconds but she was able to jiggle it and get out. Now, here I am locked in the toilet, no bigger than a 4 x 4 closet, and no jiggling of the lock seems to be working. Michelle tries to work the handle from the outside. I twist from the inside until it feels like it will break. That would not be good. I start to comprehend my future. Will I die locked in the toilet? How will they tell my friends and family? Epitaph: Eric Stanski b. 7/12/1973 d. 11/20/2008 Kazakhstan, toilet related accident. I ponder calling Larissa the interrupter but I can only imagine her reaction, “American can’t go to toilet without having problem…..ohhh send Pasha he will fix.” Pasha is the grizzly old Kaz driver that is responsible for not only driving but apparently electric, gas, plumbing repair. He also fancies himself some kind of tour guide, pointing and shouting in Russian at uninteresting buildings as he animatedly yells at the interpreters. “Pasha wants me to tell you that this building is bank,” Larissa informs us. Or they could send Vladimir, the 6’6” quiet, serious driver who looks like a hit man from a Russian mob movie. He could probably just rip the door off the hinges.

Anyway, how long has it been, 10 minutes, an hour? What day is it? Wednesday..no Thursday, it’s Wednesday in Cleveland I think…4 in the morning maybe. Wait…ok got it. Door opened. Freedom. I’m not going to the bathroom again until we to back to Frankfort.