35- Cellular Devices-
I'm reminded of the power of globalization when I see people whip out their cell phones on the street or on the bus. Like in other developing countries, cell phones in Kazakhstan are the most reliable means of long-distance communication; sometimes even the cheapest as well. It seems to be standard procedure in developing countries, of which Kazakhstan is included, that people invest in a cell phone before they invest in things that seem automatic to us in America. Like a washing machine. Or a hot water heater. Or even a reliable electrical or water system if you extrapolate out to a government level. Indeed, people in villages outside of Karaganda have a cell phone long before they have indoor plumbing. And it's not like they're yapping on the "first-gen." black bricks of the type my Dad had back in the 90's. No, they're sending multimedia text messages, streaming internet, and taking photos/videos with the latest models that Verizon and AT&T promote with the fervor of drug pushers. People here are serious about their cell phones, even when they're not serious about covering up their manholes or investing in shoes that last more than one season.
34- Cell Phone Etiquette
I hate talking on the phone in Russian because I can never tell when they're about to give me the brush off and hang up. In America, we have a pretty standard way of gracefully exiting our cell phone conversations, including things like "OK, well, I don't want to keep you any longer...pause" or, "Alright, well I'm getting in the car now and have to let you go...pause" or even, "So it was nice chatting with you but I'm heading to a lunch meeting...pause". In America, you know when someone is ending a conversation with you.
You just know.
And you usually respond in kind, even if you weren't really done with the conversation. You say things like "Alright yea, it was wonderful to catch up...pause", or "Definitely, we'll talk again soon...pause" or even, "Excellent, have a good rest of the day...pause". And if THAT'S not enough, we take it one more layer deep and reiterate confirmation that the conversation is now over. "Talk soon" or "Yup, you too", or "Excellent, we'll be in touch" followed by "Bye".
That's the clencher in our culture. "Bye". So simple, and yet it says so much. In Kazakhstan, you don't get off the highway of conversation on a smooth, paved exit ramp and come to a nice and comfortable stop. No, people hang the eff up on you! It's abrupt. It's jarring. It's like whiplash.
I can't even tell you how many times I've kept trucking along in the conversation, stumbling through my Russian in order to get out one of MY questions, only to look down after some very awkward pauses and find that it's only me and the time of day on my phone's background screen.
33- City Phones
You can call landlines for free in Karaganda, and you only need 6 numbers. You can think of this like we're all networked up with a wee little extension number. Dial 485733 and you get person X. Dial 707967 and you get person Y. If someone calls me on my cell phone, I can call them back on the landlines and neither of us loses money. Actually, come to think of it, I'm pretty sure my parents have this, so maybe it only seems novel to me because I've been gone too long. Anyway, the point is that people here love the landlines and greatly prefer them to cell phones for all in-city calling. The problem is that my house phone rings all the time. Like, constantly. And it's never for me! Actually, it's never for an American at all, and Americans have lived in this apartment for years and years. It rings and, back when I used to answer, the other end would say "Alibek?" and I'd say "Niet". Then they'd hang up, as they tend to do (see above). A couple hours later it would ring again and I would answer. "Gulnara?" and I'd say "Niet". Repeat day in and day out. Sometimes my "Niet" would surprise them and they'd have a question to challenge whether or not I was certain that Gulzhan or Olya were not home.
And I would hang up. Karma. Sometimes I think it would be a barrel of laughs to call a 6 digit number at random (like people appear to be doing to me) and say in Russian "Is your refrigerator running?" But then I think they may not have a refridgerator and the whole thing would be foiled. Instead I should just call and say in English, "Bobby? BOBBY IS THAT YOU?!"
I'm reminded of the power of globalization when I see people whip out their cell phones on the street or on the bus. Like in other developing countries, cell phones in Kazakhstan are the most reliable means of long-distance communication; sometimes even the cheapest as well. It seems to be standard procedure in developing countries, of which Kazakhstan is included, that people invest in a cell phone before they invest in things that seem automatic to us in America. Like a washing machine. Or a hot water heater. Or even a reliable electrical or water system if you extrapolate out to a government level. Indeed, people in villages outside of Karaganda have a cell phone long before they have indoor plumbing. And it's not like they're yapping on the "first-gen." black bricks of the type my Dad had back in the 90's. No, they're sending multimedia text messages, streaming internet, and taking photos/videos with the latest models that Verizon and AT&T promote with the fervor of drug pushers. People here are serious about their cell phones, even when they're not serious about covering up their manholes or investing in shoes that last more than one season.
34- Cell Phone Etiquette
I hate talking on the phone in Russian because I can never tell when they're about to give me the brush off and hang up. In America, we have a pretty standard way of gracefully exiting our cell phone conversations, including things like "OK, well, I don't want to keep you any longer...pause" or, "Alright, well I'm getting in the car now and have to let you go...pause" or even, "So it was nice chatting with you but I'm heading to a lunch meeting...pause". In America, you know when someone is ending a conversation with you.
You just know.
And you usually respond in kind, even if you weren't really done with the conversation. You say things like "Alright yea, it was wonderful to catch up...pause", or "Definitely, we'll talk again soon...pause" or even, "Excellent, have a good rest of the day...pause". And if THAT'S not enough, we take it one more layer deep and reiterate confirmation that the conversation is now over. "Talk soon" or "Yup, you too", or "Excellent, we'll be in touch" followed by "Bye".
That's the clencher in our culture. "Bye". So simple, and yet it says so much. In Kazakhstan, you don't get off the highway of conversation on a smooth, paved exit ramp and come to a nice and comfortable stop. No, people hang the eff up on you! It's abrupt. It's jarring. It's like whiplash.
I can't even tell you how many times I've kept trucking along in the conversation, stumbling through my Russian in order to get out one of MY questions, only to look down after some very awkward pauses and find that it's only me and the time of day on my phone's background screen.
33- City Phones
You can call landlines for free in Karaganda, and you only need 6 numbers. You can think of this like we're all networked up with a wee little extension number. Dial 485733 and you get person X. Dial 707967 and you get person Y. If someone calls me on my cell phone, I can call them back on the landlines and neither of us loses money. Actually, come to think of it, I'm pretty sure my parents have this, so maybe it only seems novel to me because I've been gone too long. Anyway, the point is that people here love the landlines and greatly prefer them to cell phones for all in-city calling. The problem is that my house phone rings all the time. Like, constantly. And it's never for me! Actually, it's never for an American at all, and Americans have lived in this apartment for years and years. It rings and, back when I used to answer, the other end would say "Alibek?" and I'd say "Niet". Then they'd hang up, as they tend to do (see above). A couple hours later it would ring again and I would answer. "Gulnara?" and I'd say "Niet". Repeat day in and day out. Sometimes my "Niet" would surprise them and they'd have a question to challenge whether or not I was certain that Gulzhan or Olya were not home.
And I would hang up. Karma. Sometimes I think it would be a barrel of laughs to call a 6 digit number at random (like people appear to be doing to me) and say in Russian "Is your refrigerator running?" But then I think they may not have a refridgerator and the whole thing would be foiled. Instead I should just call and say in English, "Bobby? BOBBY IS THAT YOU?!"
32- Building Phones
In a lot of apartment buildings in Karaganda, you can pay to turn on your building phone. The building phone is your apartment number and a letter, which someone can enter on the keypad down at the street in order to call your apartment. A little phone by your door rings and you can talk to them on the street and decide to let them in without having to go down and then up 9 flights of stairs on foot. It's quite convenient, actually, and without someone "buzzing you in", the door at the street remains locked by a magnet. At least in my building, and the buildings of my sitemates.
The interesting thing about the building phone is that people use it as an excuse not to carry keys. Much like my city phone, my building phone rings multiple times a day because people randomly punch in my apartment number hoping I will be home to let them into the building with the push of a button. Also like my city phone, I used to answer the building phone...and it was never for me. The person at the street would tell me that they didn't have keys, or that they were from the clinic, or that the building phone at their destined apartment was not working. It's cultural to think that I would let them in. After all, we are one big collective.
31- Making Change
Buying things in Kazakhstan can be a gamble when it comes to getting proper change in return. You really have to time it right in order to guarantee yourself exact change, like making sure to go after the first couple hours of opening. That way, there will have been other patrons before you who have purchased goods and filled the till with more than the one bill it started with. On several occasions I've miffed the timing-- and so I'm standing there after paying for my items, expecting change in return, the lady behind the counter (or pile of breaded goods as the case may be) starts dolling out 5 tenge pieces until it's 45 tenge short. Then she reaches for an opened pack of gum and pulls out one stick, laying it on the little pile of short-changedness and goes about her business.
There are no further questions asked in this transaction, and I should take my off-brand Orbit gum and be on my way with minty fresh breath. Challenging the situation has not produced desirable results. Once, I spent 10 minutes hassling the lady in Russian to give me the rest of my change, and she spent 10 minutes turning around to another lady and besmirching my good name in Kazakh. Actually, I have no idea what was said in Kazakh, but I imagine I was called a goat or some other animal often selected to be a personal insult. In the end, she handed me one more stick of gum and I said "goodbye", "thank you", and "have a nice day" in Kazakh. The look on her face was definitely worth the 45 tenge I didn't receive in change.
**Please see my disclaimer located in the top right corner.
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