Drinking mead in Russian pubs, and other boozy tales.
*Answer: it was milk. See yesterday’s blog for question.
Yesterday we were up early raring to go. Then when we went out it was stupidly hot. Today we just chilled under the air-conditioning, plotting the next few days.
As I said in the last blog, it feels like we haven’t really seen ‘the real Kazakhstan’, so we have booked two trips out to see what the country is like beyond the big metropolitan, cosmopolitan, liberal cities. Expect ripping yarns about canyons, lakes and forests in the next few days. But not today. Today, you will have to make do with drunken ramblings about beer, pubs and Kazakh drinking culture. Because I’ve just spent all day in a Russian pub.
Kazakhstan is officially a secular state, but 69.3% of the population identify as Muslim. I’m sure most of you know, Muslims aren’t supposed to drink. But Muslims, of course, are no different to any other humans. All the factors that can make anyone turn to alcohol – social norms, peer pressure, trauma and stress – apply to Muslims too.
The presence of a huge ethnically Russian community in Kazakhstan, a legacy of its Soviet past, means there is a major drinking culture within the country. Most notably vodka. Of all countries with a majority muslim population, Kazakhstan has a reputation for drinking the most.
Toasting is a common social practice and it is considered rude to turn down the offer of a drink, although you can get away with joining in with a non-alcoholic drink (fermented horse milk being very popular).
Drunkeness of men is remarkably tolerated apparently, but it’s bad form for women to be drunk.
In our few days here we have noted that most bars don’t open till four or five of the PMs. People are either in work or sleeping during the day. The streets are very quiet until around 5pm and things start to pick up as it cools down. The busiest we have seen the streets is when we head home around midnight, and you can hear it getting busier after that.
The only pubs we have found open in the day are western style pubs – Irish bars, English bars and our favourite, the Munich Bar. Well, favourite until today.
Whenever we travel away I always make an effort to research the local music scene. In Albania we spent a night hanging out with a local progressive rock band I’d been in touch with. In Macedonia we spent a day with a local record label and in Vienna we managed to squeeze two gigs into one night. But some countries are harder to penetrate than others.
Turkey, surprisingly, has an amazing psychedelic scene. Kazakhstan, to be honest not surprisingly, has been hard work to research. Posh got excited when she found Steppe Sons, a band that play modern music with traditional instruments. I got excited, I thought they might be like The Hu (Mongolian Folk Metal Legends). Turns out they’re not. Just traditional sounding folk music.
I looked on Bandcamp and other streaming sites. Whilst I did find some half decent rock music and dance music, nothing blew my socks off. I looked for ‘live music venues in Almaty” and just found Irish Bars (there’s loads of ’em). I tried searching for ‘alternative’ ‘counterculture’ and ‘underground’ venues and came up blank. I did find an article about Almaty being the ‘New Berlin’ in terms of club culture, but that’s not really my thing.
The fact that English is not widely spoken meant getting to meet up with local musicians to chat about the scene was looking unlikely.
I was on the point of giving up, then sat here in the apartment I just typed ‘bars near me’ and discovered a pretty cool looking bar with an alternative rock vibe just eight minutes from our apartment. I made a note and tried to work out the best day to check it out.
This is a trip of a lifetime, potentially, but the heat is unbearable in the day. It feels like a waste to come this far and not be out all day, but it’s just too hot. As I was sat in my pants booking trips in air-conditioned vehicles and looking at how best to get to ‘attractions’ in the city, we just looked out of the window and thought, ‘fuck this heat for a game of soldiers’. As my mother used to say, “if it’s 34c in the shade, stay out of the fucking shade.”
Then we thought, ‘it’s too late to go out for the day, let’s just hit «Привычки» бар’ . No me neither. I’m not even sure which language it is in, never mind how to pronounce it, although I suspect it is Russian. Apparently in English it translates to ‘Habits’ . Google may be an all consuming data harvesting antichrist, but it does have its uses.
It doesn’t open till 4pm so we chill for a bit, then stroll up the frog and toad, walking into «Привычки» бар at precisely 4:01 pm. We are the first in. And indeed the only customers for at least two hours.
It’s a nice little space. A mix match of assorted furniture, interesting art on the walls and a mixture of industrial rock, indie and nu-metal playing over the soundsystem.
I don’t speak Russian or Kazakh. When we first arrived here it was difficult to tell what language anyone was speaking. But now it seems blindingly obvious when someone is speaking Russian or Kazakh. And whilst there’s been a lot of cultural mixing over the years, some locals stand out as looking more European (Russian or German) than others.
The young girl behind the bar definitely looks to be from a European background and as soon as she starts talking, we could tell she was speaking Russian rather than Kazakh. She has an ‘alternative’ look to her, with many tattoos in evidence and bleached blonde hair under her hat.
We ask if they sell cider. Her arm sweeps in the direction of the draught beer taps poking out of the wall and says ‘Nyet’. However, she quickly walks us over to the fridge and identifies a shelf full of cider. Some are small bottles, some are big bottles and some are cans. We decide to start on the big bottles. I can’t read the label, but it’s quite dry and I like it. Megan didn’t like it at all, but that could be because she’d not long brushed her teeth. Cider and toothpaste is never a good combination…
I nip into the WC. The walls are covered in posters for, mostly historic, punk gigs. The Dead Kennedys, The Clash, Agnostic Front, although there’s a few more contemporary artifacts, Amyl and The Sniffers, Sleaford Mods and Kneecap. It has the vibe of a toilet in an old ‘toilet’ venue, like TJs, CBGBS, or The Full Moon, but it’s clean and well maintained.
I return to my seat and the barmaid brings us complimentary slices of mango. This place is rapidly drilling into my affections.
As we sit staring at the cider shelf we spot a word written in the Roman alphabet. Mead. This we understand. Now technically, it’s not mead. Mead is an alcoholic drink made from honey, rocks in around 15% and is drunk in small glasses. This is a cyzer, mead mixed with fruit and a mere 6% of the ABVs. We opt for blackberry.
It’s weird. It’s very sweet. Almost like drinking neat Ribena, but actually very nice. I love it, despite not normally going for things that sweet.
When we finish we have another one. Then another one. Then they run out.
Posh and Becks arrive. We scan the shelf and Megan spots Cherry and Chocolate flavour mead. It’s weird. I love chocolate, I’m a chocoholic, but I don’t like chocolate flavoured things. Chocolate cake, chocolate pudding or hot chocolate do nothing for me. I don’t like cherries either. I opt to go back on the Russian cider whilst the girls get stuck into the cherry and chocolate mead. They love it and spend the next half an hour raving about it being the best thing they’ve ever drunk. I take a sip. It’s like drinking a black forest gateaux. Which for me, is not a compliment. But I suppose if you are into that sort of thing…
It’s certainly not a foody establishment like the Munich Bar, but we need solids to soak up the booze. I look at the bar snacks and opt for vegan currywurst. I’ve never had the meat version, but I give it a go. It’s a vegan sausage covered in Pakistani curry with a side order of smiley potatoes. It’s delicious. This place just gets better and better.
Yes, I know, I regularly criticise people for not checking out the local cuisine, but Kazakhstan really hasn’t got its head around veggie food yet.
The bar starts to fill up as the sun goes down. It’s mostly locals with three-quarter length shorts, tattoos that start on their neck and end on their legs, and lots of face jewellery. They are mostly European looking, and I think they are mostly speaking Russian. This is definitely the hippest bar we have found so far. I think we are going to have to break with tradition and change our ‘regular’ pub mid holiday.
We have a few more beverages and grab some cans to take back to our room before having an early night. We are determined to actually do something other than sitting in pubs tomorrow. Watch this space.