Snake Encounters

I remember, growing up in Nigeria, that snakes were a fact of life, everyone had met one at least once and of course the stories of the encounters grew in the telling.  Our house in Warri was in land reclaimed from the swamp, we had a bungalow set in a large garden surrounded by drainage ditches. One morning when I was away in boarding school my mother looked out to see my 6 year old sister frozen in fear as she was locked in the gaze of a spitting cobra.  Our mother and the cook dispatched the beast.  That was not the only snake, we would frequently get visitors to the garage and patio and we could hear them slithering about in the roof, the snakes were mostly cobras and black mambas.  My mother was a dab hand at dispatching them with a hoe to the head, often helped by our cat Kipper, who, on seeing an intruder, would set up a loud wailing to alert us then play with it until it was coiled in knots before stepping aside to allow my mother delivered the coup de grace.

One very full snake, sated and still in a tree in Mulu

There was considerable local mythology attached to snakes, whenever we killed one we had to cut off the head and tail which could not be buried in the same grave as or in line with the body - if we did we were told that the spirit of Mammy Wata (a river goddess/mermaid) would reanimate the snake which would come to seek revenge for its death.

Snake encounters were frequent.  One family nearby had a mamba in the roof that found its way into the living room and the house had to be evacuated until the snake was killed and yet more friends had baby cobras in their lavatory, the whole experience set their young daughter's potty training back quite considerably! Another family lost their parrot to a hungry snake that managed to get into the cage.  The really big snakes such as pythons were a much rarer sight although I do remember one being hit by a car near the company clinic.  I don't recall meeting snakes in Lagos, the ones that survived in the city were probably rather shy of humans nor did we meet any snakes during our time in Turkey (spiders were another matter) or Venezuela and Kazakhstan was too cold for them.  In fact other than Nigeria I have seen more snakes in the UK than anywhere else.

Here in Malaysia I expected to see a lot of snakes but other than in the zoo and one in a tree on a trip to Mulu national park I have not seen any. I know they were there in Miri, indeed this huge Python was found just round the corner from our house, but we had no encounters at all which suited me down to the ground.

One long city snake!

Imagine my surprise then to turn around from my computer this morning to see, through the window, a snake coiled up next to the laundry drying on my patio.  He was beautiful and, I think, a juvenile as he was no more than a metre long, very thin with a tiny head.  His eyes were very big in his head which was an apple green although the back of his neck was red.  His body had green and black stripes. He held my gaze for quite some time but as I was holding the baby I could not get a picture.  By the time I had put the baby down he slithered back on to the grass but stayed there long enough for me to get a, very poor quality, 'phone shot.  I tried to grab my camera but he had moved away.   I then sent the dogs into the garden to frighten him away from the house.  The cat is, sadly, too young to set against a snake.  I don't possess a hoe or any other implement suitable for getting rid of snakes.

Thank goodness the one in our garden is small
you can just see him in the centre of the very poor
photograph.

We called the exterminators who said that given the description they did not think he was poisonous.  They can not lay sulphur (the preferred deterrent) around the house because we have a lot of rain at present and it will just be washed away.  I have decided to leave dog mess in the garden for the moment and scatter  kitty litter around the patios (snakes hate cat litter) and mothballs by the doors.  Anyone going out to do laundry (our washing machine is outside) will have to stamp their feet.

It is a fact of life that snakes are around us all the time but we don't know it.  I suspect he lives next door as the house is uninhabited and he can enjoy an undisturbed life.  I don't want to do him any harm but equally I don't want him to think that he can enjoy my garden as part of his territory or getting into the house.  Snakes are beautiful, fascinating creatures but not ones I want to get to know intimately.  

Posted on the Animal Tales linky hosted by Eco-Gites of Lenault

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A step back in time...

In the 1990s I lived in Lagos for a year.  We had moved there from Warri (in the Niger Delta) where we lived on a company camp and the big treat in Lagos was that we had our own house.  It is true that we also had a 3 meter wall around the (huge) compound and a security force that amounted to a private army to keep us safe but we had our own home and garden separate from other expats on the beautiful Inner Crescent.

12 Inner Crescent, Lagos, one of the most beautiful homes I have ever lived in

 The house was run down when we arrived, the company had promised a complete renovation in time for our arrival but sadly it was not to be, we had to spend almost two months in a guest house, visiting number Inner Crescent every day to supervise the works but the results were worth it.  The original parquet floor was still in place and in very good condition.  We had a high ceilinged, airy dining and sitting room and my parents and I enjoyed a suite each consisting of a bedroom larger than my first flat, a dressing room and a gigantic bathroom.  My sister snagged the coveted over driveway room with its garland of bougainvillea but she did have to share my bathroom and dressing room. 

Echoes of Malaysia's colonial heritage can be seen peeking out here and there

Some are rather more cared for than others

The two bathrooms were joined at the back by a balcony where, in days gone by, stewards and house staff would hoist the water up by pulley to bring into the bathrooms.  By our time this system had, thankfully, been replaced by a water tower for which we received regular deliveries.  Sadly the trucks were often not properly washed out and regularly used to transport other materials so the water never really got us very clean.  It was, however, usually hot and mostly plentiful.  There was a set of bungalows to the rear of the property where security and house staff could live with their families and grow vegetables while benefiting from the safety of the compound.  We even had our own generator (a necessity in Nigeria) and a beautiful array of fruit trees.

The house was a throw-back to a former era

The house sounds grander than it was, it was quite small by colonial standards, but it was beautiful, possibly the most beautiful house I have ever lived in and we have very happy memories of our time there.  One of the lovely things about Malaysia is that we can see examples of similar architecture all around.  Many of the old mansions have run to ruin but some have been preserved.  Walking around Georgetown with my father we saw many that made our minds leap with half remembered stories with which we regaled (bored) the rest of the family.

The Lagos home was truly beautiful

The garden and building of this restaurant in Ipoh
are so reminiscent of my former home

The night before he left we took my father to STG (Sabah Tea Garden) a restaurant here in Ipoh that is set in a renovated Colonial building.  From the driveway to the building it was so similar to our old home that it made our hearts ache.  Expat life is a litany of goodbyes, of changes and it is rare that we are able to return to a place we have been happy.  I doubt I will ever return to Nigeria and even if I did I would not be able to live in that house or even see it as it was - my Father saw it on a trip to Nigeria in 2006 and said it was roofless and falling to pieces.  Living in Malaysia has allowed me to pass on some tangible form of that memory to our children and that is something I treasure very deeply.

I could move in tomorrow!

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Newborn Customs....

Since our new daughter was born early last month I have been thinking a lot about the different customs that we have surrounding new babies.

When I was born my parents immediately sent out birth announcement cards – in the Netherlands it is expected that these are sent out as soon as possible.  When our first baby was due in the UK I was surprised that the soonest print companies could get cards to me was one week, they could not understand my rush and seemed to think I would be busy with other things.  Not wanting to write out a lot of cards by hand I searched and searched for a company with a quick turnaround. I finally managed to get them in three days – I felt terrible for the delay but all our English friends found it quite normal.  Indeed I have received announcements up to 6 weeks after a birth.  For our latest baby I did not want to spend the time searching for a printers in Malaysia on top of finding a new house, unpacking and settling the older children into school so we decided to rely on electronic announcements only – the modern age does make things easier and we thought our families would forgive us in the circumstances.  I am a hoarder, however, and have birth and death cards and wedding and christening invites for almost all our family members going back to my grandparents generation kept in our storage container so I may have some ‘limited edition’ cards made up for close family (quite pathetic I know) just so our latest daughter is not missed out.

In the UK and Ireland it is not uncommon to save a tier of the wedding cake (fruit cake) to use as the christening cake of the first baby.  My mother in law saved ours and her friend  (who did the decoration on our wedding cake) did some fresh decoration for the christening. 

In the UK you are advised (for SIDS purposes) to keep a baby’s room at a positively arctic 18°C but wrap the baby in about three blankets plus pyjamas, I managed this for one day before turning the heating up but I wonder if this low temperature may be related to the high cost of heating in the UK and to make sure parents do not feel guilty for not having a warmer house (British houses are almost always horribly cold, with people preferring to layer a lot of clothes).  In Kazahkstan houses are usually at least 25° and even then babies are well wrapped up against chills, often looking as though they are far, far too hot.  In Malaysia the advice seems to be to cool the room to about 24-5° which is what we used to keep our house in the UK at – a British health visitor would have a fit! 

When we lived in Nigeria it was common for new mothers to be given a drink of Guinness to restore their iron levels.  Certainly I can vouch for the fact that this horrible custom is not (thankfully) common practice in either the UK or Malaysia. In the Netherlands new mothers are fed a snack of beschuit (rusk) with pink or blue sugared  aniseed balls (muisjes so called because they look like tiny mice).  My mother brought some blue ones back to the UK for our first baby.  

In Kazakhstan and Turkey it is traditional for a baby to be kept away from visitors for 40 days and in Malaysia a confinement period is common post birth with the specifics (usually relating to what the mother can eat and what she is allowed to do) depending on the background culture of the family concerned.  Some cultures even have customs relating to whether or not the mother can wash and what with (ginger water is one of the more palatable alternatives, a mix of cows urine and milk less so).  This was probably sage advice to prevent infection from dirty water in the past. 

The other day we were invited to a ‘Full Moon’ celebration for the baby of a colleague of my husband.  This baby is our little girl’s time sister.  They were, by complete co-incidence, born within 15 minutes of each-other in neighbouring operating theatres.  Her mother and I came across each-other in recovery and the little girls spent their first few hours side by side in the nursery.  Because of cultural traditions this little girl was not out and about for the first month and her mother was in confinement so this party was a big thing for the family – we were honoured to be invited. 

In the UK things are far more fluid – some people do retreat into their homes and families but rarely for as long as a month, this depends on the desires of the parents rather than any hard and fast cultural custom.  We have never really stayed at home and people we met out and about here in Miri were very surprised to see a newborn baby.  The lovely thing here is that everyone seems to look and comment – the last time I was out I stopped for a coffee and to give the baby a bottle and the baristas all came out from behind the till to coo and admire.  That is still done in the UK but is much more restrained.

 

One of the nurses here in Miri told me that it is not common to just throw away the umbilical stump as it is seen as being part of the baby, in Nigeria (and much of western Africa) the placenta is often removed and buried carefully as a ‘twin’ of the child.   I have never given in much thought although this time my husband had to ‘sign away’ the placenta to the hospital.

Paediatric tests can be different as well.  We were not given a (routine in the UK) heel prick test for our little girl as the conditions tested for are a problem for Caucasians but not an issue for Asians.  We had to make a special appointment (with our OB of all people) to arrange for the test to be done. Of course some traditions are dependent on religion (circumcision for example) making them more common in some parts of the world than others.  

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How to find a new home in your new location.

We have just moved in to our new home in Miri, Sarawak.  It is amazing how being in our own place, even minus our shipment, can make me feel so much more relaxed about our new location.

As a child our new home was not really something I gave much thought to.  My father’s company set us up in interim accommodation until his predecessor finished the handover and left, we then moved into the predecessor’s house.  Often we were on company camps and there was no option but to live in the given property and even when we lived out in the community options were often limited.

Tied accommodation is the norm for resident teachers in UK boarding schools and from the start of our marriage we have lived in some choice properties (we could choose red carpet with blue flecks or blue with red, rickety furniture as standard) and we have become pretty adept at using throws, cushions, pictures etc to personalise a place. 

Some personalisation needed!

When we moved to Kazakhstan there was no provision for hotel accommodation so we were told that we would have to choose our apartment before we arrived and move straight in to it. In many ways this was fantastic as we were straight in to our new home.  HR could not, however, understand why I insisted on seeing photographs of every room in the proposed apartments, wanted a floor plan and a list of furniture that came with the property.  The estate agents seemed to be obsessed with photographs of bathrooms to the exclusion of any other room in the property.  I was told that it was normal, in Astana, for people to arrive and then move again a few weeks or months later if the property did not suit.  They could not understand that we wanted to keep the disruption for the children to an absolute minimum – to let them move into a home that they could feel was permanent.  It is one thing to stay in a hotel for a few weeks and then move quite another to hop between homes.

A tasteful interior - as an expat you too could live in a place like this!

Some of the decoration in the proposed flats was… interesting.  Having lived in tied accommodation in the UK and elsewhere (our house in Warri, Nigeria had banana yellow walls, cream and brown swirled carpet and grey (later orange and blue) sofas) I could see beyond this but there were certain non negotiables we were unwilling to compromise on.  We needed large space for the children and dog so they would not feel cooped up in the winter.  We needed a spare bedroom/office space so that I could work from home and we could have family to visit without making someone sleep on the sofa, underground parking, proximity to supermarkets and a lift.  We finally found the apartment we could be happy in only for one man in HR to tell us he wanted us to sign on a different, smaller apartment that met none of our criteria because he ‘liked the landlord’…hmmm.  He was a little miffed when I put my foot down but it was worth it, we lived in the apartment from the day we arrived to the day we left Kazakhstan.  Some other colleagues found, on arriving in Astana that they were moved into apartments that had nothing in common with the ones they thought they had rented and had to move.  I have never apologised for being fussy on my non negotiables!

Don't be shy about being honest if something does not work for you.
This delightful kitchen was one step too far for me!

Our recent move to Miri was a little easier in that we had two weeks in a hotel to house hunt.  Employers put us in touch with a local estate agent who showed us round.  Initially she had not been given a list of our criteria so the first few properties were unsuitable but she came up trumps pretty quickly.  Our main concern was to find a furnished place as we do not have any furniture coming in our shipment and do not have a furniture allowance.  Most properties in Miri are let un or only part furnished.  We looked at some amazing 7/8 bedroom houses with all the space in the world but they came with beds and a sofa nothing else.  Furniture may be relatively cheap in Miri but with a new baby on the way we do not want to be spending money we don’t need to.  Minimalist living may appeal to some but there is such a thing as too minimalist!  

We found a lovely property complete with furniture and some kitchen ware to tide us over and promptly decided to start negotiations to move in.  It has not quite been a week and we are still waiting for toys, books, personal items etc to arrive but this house already feels like a home so we know that we have made the right decision.

Top tips for finding a home in your new location:

• Will you have a choice of property or have to take what you are given?  If the latter you just have to be flexible and fit in or negotiate for a more suitable property once you are in place.
• If you are able to choose your own property find out your budget, do you have an allowance?  Are you willing to top it up yourself?  Let your agent know the budget range you are prepared to deal in.
• Decide what you need from your new house and be honest about it this should help prevent your agent showing you unsuitable properties.
• Do you have limited time in the hotel before moving, if so you may need to compromise a little more to get a property in time.
• Ask other expats about local idiosyncrasies/points to check ie in Miri I asked for the landlord to run pest control before we moved in.  In Astana I checked that the heating etc was working.  In the UK check how much council tax you pay on your property.
• Get to know your landlord - be nice to them and they will (hopefully) help you out beyond the minimum.
• Learn to love (or at least ignore) someone else’s taste.  The lighting/furniture/crockery etc may be hideous but you will have to live with it.  Get creative with sofa throws, pictures, etc etc.   
• Some times you will be living somewhere full of tasteless tat, sometimes in a home you could only imagine in your wildest dreams.  Our reward for the years in the Warri house (of banana wall fame) came on our move to Lagos.  We moved into a stunning old colonial mansion with the most amazing parquet floors and a huge garden with beautiful established tropical plants and (a luxurious necessity) our own generator rather than a communal one for power cuts.  Even the furnishings were (mostly) tasteful.  Learn to accept the rough and revel in the smooth. 

Sometimes you catch a break with a beautiful home.  

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Reverse Bucket List

Expat life has the potential to be very exciting, to give us all opportunities we never dreamed of.  My husband and I still pinch ourselves, regularly, that we live freely and happily in the middle of the ex USSR and can talk with local friends about their experiences of the time.

We are in limbo at the moment, however, with just a few months to go until we say goodbye to Kazakhstan and start the next phase of our expat adventure.  Such times inevitably lead to future planning - thinking of the experiences to come.  Today I was reading Amanda Van Mulligan's Life with a Double Buggy blog and she has prepared a reverse bucket list - a list of all her experiences to date.  I thought it was a fascinating post as were many of the others on the blog link up so I thought I would add mine to her blog link up.  This is my list to date:

• ·         Lived in 7 (soon to be 8) countries and moved internationally 9 (soon to be 10) times.
• ·         Lived in over 25 different homes (not including university and school).
• ·         Adopted pets in 5 different countries.
• ·         Maintained close relationships with family stretched over a minimum of three different countries.
• ·         Went to boarding school on my own age 11 and watched my family fly off to start a new life in Nigeria.
• ·         Flew to Nigeria for the first time alone four months later having had no post delivered desperately hoping my mother would be able to meet my plane and that I would recognise her (I was worried she would be so tanned I would not know her).
• ·         Survived a shoot-out/armed robbery in Lagos airport.
• ·         Lived through an attempted coup.
• ·         Speeding through the Niger Delta.
• ·         Visiting orphanages in Nigeria and seeing, first hand, how very very lucky my childhood was. 
• ·         Been on safari in Jos (Nigeria), not to be recommended as a top tourist destination!
• ·         Visiting Benin (the country) and Benin (the city).
• ·         Spending weekends in paradise (some holiday villas 2 hours from our home in Warri), walking through the gardens and swimming in the river.
• ·         Cycling on a raised path through the swamp.
• ·         Learning how to kill giant cockroaches, avoid scorpions and teaching the cat to kill snakes. 
• ·         Watching local witch doctors perform ceremonies.
• ·         Visiting Moscow and Leningrad (as it was) and travelling between them by train.
• ·         Going to the Circus and Ballet in Moscow and seeing the Hermitage and Aurora in Leningrad.
• ·         Learning to integrate almost seamlessly in the UK and to understand British humour.
• ·         Persuading my parents that, if I could fly around the world on my own I would be safe on solo trips to London.
• ·         Volunteering with my local lifeboat and old people’s home in the UK for community service experience.
• ·         Moving to eastern Turkey in the 1990’s when the situation was extremely volatile and daily life was very dangerous.
• ·         Convincing Turkish Airlines that they absolutely could let two young girls fly into our local airport and that we were not tourists.
• ·         Making my classmates in the UK laugh when a car backfired and I threw myself under my desk thinking it was the start of an attack. 
• ·         Driving to Nemrut Dag and Eski Kale and seeing the Ataturk Dam close up.
• ·         Enjoying a picnic on the shores of Lake Hazar and exploring Catholic Churches and Syriac monasteries on the Syrian border.
• ·         Exploring Istanbul – the most beautiful city in the world - for the very first time.
• ·         Shopping for carpets in Diyarbakir’s old town.  Crossing the Berlin/Bagdad railway every day and eating meals while looking out over the purported Garden of Eden. 
• ·         Touring remote villages helping to spread the word about the importance of education for girls.
• ·         Learning (and forgetting) Turkish.
• ·         Going to university in the UK and meeting my husband there.
• ·         Spending my first summer from university visiting friends before taking our dog from the Netherlands to our new home in Venezuela.
• ·         Exploring the Venezuelan Andes, Coro peninsula and Lake Maracaibo.
• ·         Being volunteered to work as a translator from Spanish for English, Dutch and German kids at a holiday camp despite not speaking a word of Spanish (I learned quickly).
• ·         Learning (and forgetting) Spanish.
• ·         Visiting the Venezuelan Supreme Court.
• ·         Qualifying as a solicitor and working in London.
• ·         Getting married in Durham Castle.
• ·         Getting our very first dog for our new family.
• ·         Learning to scuba dive, getting my Nitrox, Deep Diver and Divemaster certificates.
• ·         Taking a case to the House of Lords (now the Supreme Court) in the UK.
• ·         Buying our dream first home.
• ·         Having our beautiful children.
• ·         Driving around Europe for weeks at a time with no plan– just to see where we would end up.
• ·         Being elected as a local councillor.
• ·         Standing for election to the UK parliament.
• ·         Gaining accreditation as a social and commercial mediator. 
• ·         Moving to Astana, Kazakhstan.
• ·         Learning Russian.
• ·         Visiting Lake Borovoye and exploring the Kazakh Steppe.
• ·         Buying a car in Kazakhstan.
• ·         Being sent from Kazakhstan to Germany for an emergency operation (and back again in the space of two days).
• ·         Dealing with pregnancy in two (soon to be three) foreign countries.
• ·         Getting beaten up in Kiev airport.
• ·         Meeting NASA astronauts and Space Station personnel in Karaganda.
• ·         Exploring Almaty in the snow.
• ·         Coping and enjoying life in the second coldest capital in the world.
• ·         Visiting museums commemorating the Gulag.
• ·         Exploring the silk road cities of Kyrgyzstan. 
• ·         Spending Christmas in various places around the world including Lebanon and Angkor Wat.
• ·         Getting recognition as a public speaker and local government expert. 
• ·         Looking forward to all the experiences to come and thinking about all the things I have left off this list to prevent it becoming longer and more self indulgent than necessary. 

 

Expat Pets

I spent the day at the vets today – trying to arrange for our new puppy to get her vaccinations.  I started thinking about our expat pets and how they cope with life abroad.  I know many people who put off getting a pet until they get back to their home country – easier for all concerned and kinder on the animal is the usual rationale.  Our pets have always travelled with us, however and I recall only a short period of my  life when we had no pets.  Sadly we had to put down an otherwise healthy dog because of some severe mental health problems that caused him to threaten my baby sister and it was a few years before we could face taking another one in.  During that time, however, we pet sat for almost every friend and friend of a friend so we had an endless stream of loving pets  staying in our home.  

Pets also have to learn to adapt to the challenges of expat life.

There is no getting past the fact that some animals tug at your heart strings and become part of your life –  this is even more true as an expat when you see animals surviving in sometimes desperate situations and you feel you need to help them. The dynamic of life with pets as an expat is slightly different to when you live in your home country.  Rules on vaccination and ownership may be different and the quality of vet services can vary. Pets also have to adapt to new ways of life and new rules for behaviour.  In some countries dogs are welcomed - in others they are seen as unclean and a dog has to learn not to expect fuss from everyone it meets.  Language is another barrier - our dogs have always had to learn a smattering of command words in the local language so house keepers, security staff etc could give them commands.  One of our dogs learned commands in four languages (English, Dutch, Turkish and Spanish - pretty good for a mere animal!).

We have had cats in the past  notably a stray (Tom Kitten) who deigned to spend a few months with us in Norway before deserting to the next door neighbour who served a superior brand of tuna and Kipper – our Nigerian cat who protected us from snakes and brought us gifts of gecko and lizard tails instead of mice.  We had a Parrot once as well – also in Nigeria.  Pip the African Grey came to us as a bedraggled nestling caught by some people out in the bush when his mother was killed – to turn him away would have meant certain death so we fed him on mashed up fruit and built him a cage on the patio.  Sadly he had the most awful temper and could not stand to be handled but he more than compensated for this with his fantastically broad vocabulary – he was great fun to talk to and I swear he knew exactly what he was saying, his favourite trick being to call the cat and dog in my mother’s voice and then enjoy watching the ensuing fight.  Sadly Kipper did not want to stay with us (he found a wife a few doors down) and we could not get an export licence for Pip. Other pets have included goats, turkeys and sheep, usually presented to my parents as gifts, these farm animals lived with us in our gardens for a while before being raffled off for Christmas or Eid dinner for a lucky colleague (I remember my sister and I cried each time).  The most unusual pet was the turkey who faced his raffle with equanimity but was reprieved when the winner decided to start a turkey farm instead.

Much as I have loved our other pets I am, resolutely, a dog person.  We have had dogs in almost every country we have ever lived in and, unlike cats dogs never choose to leave their owners.  Jimmy, our Nigerian dog was a large blond Andalusian Shepherd Cross – he worked at our house every night as our guard dog and when we found out that the company who owned him were abusing him very badly we refused to let him go back and bought his contract.  The poor thing had been so badly beaten that he had been left with no single rib or tooth intact and he was so grateful for his deliverance from hell that he became the most faithful, protective dog I have ever met. I only ever heard him bark twice - both times it was to provide a much needed warning.  

He stayed with us through two postings in the Netherlands and one in Turkey before finally dying in Venezuela.  We were all distraught when he had to be put to sleep knowing that his life had been shortened by the beatings he had taken as a young dog but also knowing that we had given him an extra 8 years of life through taking him in.  Before Jimmy died we adopted a Venezuelan Street Dog – a Kakri that we called Eliza – we found her as a tiny puppy just able to walk that had been discarded on the rubbish heap and could not leave her.  She gave my parents many happy years in Venezuela, The Netherlands and England before dying  last year – the oldest Kakri ever to have lived at 13 years.  She is survived by an English rescue dog who, sadly, has never had the opportunity to travel anywhere.

Eliza - rescued from the streets of Maracaibo at little more than a
month old lived out her days in comfort as a Venezuelan Expatriate
in the Netherlands and UK.  

When we married my husband and I were gifted a tiny black puppy (with our full knowledge and consent).  Abbess came to live with us the day we returned from honeymoon and has been an integral part of our family ever since.  When we found out that we were going to Kazakhstan we had to decide whether to take our 10 year old dog with us or ask a family member to take her in.  We were concerned not only with  how she would handle the cold and snow but, more importantly how a dog who had always lived in the country with free access to woodland whenever she wanted  and never needed a lead would cope in an apartment in a city.  We had no shortage of volunteers to have her but when push came to shove we could not imagine life without her.

Bessie grew up in the English countryside.
A far cry from the city of Astana where she now
takes her daily walks.  

Bessie, more than any other member of the family, has found it difficult to adapt to life in Astana.  The harsh winters have aged her much more quickly than we expected.  We brought a middle aged dog to Astana and now have an elderly grande dame to take care of.  We would not be without her, however, and every evening, when she curls up next to us on the sofa or when she comes to ‘help’ put the children to bed we know that we made the right decision.

Bessie finds expat life in Astana somewhat of a challenge,
particularly the heavy snow and extreme cold. 

Luckily fate has given us the chance to give her a new lease of life – a few months ago a tiny black pup was found wandering the campus of the local university.  The pictures of the puppy showed that she looked very like Abbess and we decided to adopt her.  Bessie has taken to her role as surrogate mother and is enjoying her chance to teach a pup its manners.  Perdita has wormed her way into our hearts and, as with every dog before, we now cannot imagine life without her.

Bessie and Perdita are more mother and daughter than friends.
Bess helps to train Perdita and is assiduous in looking after her.

The dogs will come with us when we leave Kazakhstan – so once Perdita is vaccinated I will have the pleasure of learning how to get a pet passport from the relevant Kazakh ministry.  Each country has its own requirements for pet immigration – some easy some (like the UK) fiendishly difficult.  I am not yet sure when or where we are going when we leave Kazakhstan but, barring some unforeseen tragedy, the pets will be coming with us.

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How to Drive in Astana

A lot of people ask about the driving in Astana so, following on from my recent posts on public transport and buying a car in Astana I thought I would write a little about driving.

Driving in Astana can be divided between driving in the old town, on the Right Bank, and driving in the new centre on the Left Bank.  The main roads are broad and well maintained throughout the city but there is significantly more traffic on the Right Bank, particularly during the evening rush hour.  Driving is on the right, European style, and many signs such as the orange diamond are familiar and mean broadly the same thing.

Some countries have very strange rules, or none at all.  In the UK drivers are only required to switch on their headlights when visibility is low which can be very disconcerting, I even knew someone who disabled the automatic on switch for his Volvo headlights.  In Maracaibo (Venezuela) you are not allowed to turn left at junctions so a a driver’s eye map of the city consists of indirect routes calling for three right turns just to get around the corner.  When we were living in Nigeria the rules of the road did not exist, I recall coming up to a roundabout and seeing people driving  clockwise and widdershins simultaneously while some people just gave up and drove across the middle.  Compared to this driving in Astana is very intuitive, some rules are different, however, and it pays to ask a local or a long term expat to talk you through the rules of the road before you drive.  The highway code is available to buy but, unless you read Russian or Kazakh it will take a long time to digest. 

Right and left turns are allowed at junctions but it is not possible to turn left across the road unless there is a gap in the central dividing line.  You have to watch out for this though because in some places the lines can be worn away during the winter and you can end up making an illegal turn by accident.  It pays not to turn left unless you know for a fact it is legal. U turns are legal at most junctions and at gaps in the central line.  This can leave you stumped when a car will slam on the breaks and thrown a U turn in front of your car and drivers turning right at a junction must give priority to cars throwing a U turn. 

Cars pass on both the right and the left.  Undertaking is not allowed or practiced in any country I have driven in (we had a driver in Nigeria) and for the first few forays in the car my nerves jangled every time someone passed on the inside, I have learned to accept it now although I cannot bring myself to undertake a car in front.  Drivers here use the horn both loudly and regularly, woe betide someone who does not move off as soon as the traffic lights change, many drivers also use them in place of indicators to signal lane changes.  Lanes can be a fluid concept, particularly at traffic lights.

The roads are heavily policed and at certain times junctions can be put under police control.  I have asked many people why this is but no-one can say, it does slow the traffic down and perhaps this is the reason.  The road  (Жол) police  carry a fluorescent baton and they have an array of gestures to tell drivers when to go, where to go and when to stop, it must take nerves of steel to stand in the middle of the junction (there are no plinths or roundabouts to protect them).  Fines for infractions are heavy – if you are stopped ask for the paper detailing the fine to be handed over.  This can then be taken to a police station for payment.  Speeds in the city are low – 60kph on most roads and 40kph in front of school buildings.  Speed trap cameras are all over the city, particularly, for some reason, the bridges.

All drivers must carry the car papers including technical certification, car licence and insurance details at all times together with an international drivers licence.  Once you learn these basic rules driving is actually both easy and pleasant here in the summer.

Things change in the winter.  There is no requirement to change to winter tyres (either stud or sticky) but they are a worthwhile investment.  We drove all last winter on our summer tyres and there were a few times that we felt the lack. The city runs a fantastic and constant road clearing operation 24 hours a day during the winter.  As a result at least one or two lanes in the main roads are usually clear and safe.  Ice and surface snow is pushed to the right hand lane from where it is collected and put in landfill.  The more minor or less used roads can become dangerous,however so it is worth being conversant with ice driving skills.  Even the main roads can get a covering of black ice (Гололёд) in places so drivers are advised to engine break where possible and anticipate traffic light changes so there is no need to break suddenly.  It is not uncommon to see a large number of low speed crashes at junctions during the winter. 

Other winter driving delights include condensed exhaust fumes that create a nasty fog from the car in front and the odd blizzard that reduces visibility to practically nothing and road speeds to a crawl.  Parked cars should have the wipers lifted when parked because they will freeze to the screen.  If you don’t lift them the chances are you will forget to wait for the car to warm before using them and rip your wiper off.  The transitional seasons create the most dangerous driving conditions because when the temperatures come close to freezing point we get liquid water on the roads that refreezes at night making them slick, dirty and dangerous.

The winter is hard on cars.  Temperatures get very low so most people have  good engine insulation and a remote starter installed.  This means that you can turn your car on to heat from the comfort of your home.  In the depths of winter the engine on an un-garaged car should be turned over and left to run for at least five  minutes every two hours (day and night) and this is much more pleasant with a remote start.  Our remote start does not work at the moment, luckily it is garaged at night but when we go out in the winter to a restaurant or friend's house one of us has to suit up and sit in the car, it is a cold and unpleasant job.  Don’t even try to drive until the car has warmed properly, it is bad for the car, dangerous and the hydraulics get very mushy and the car unresponsive.  Surprisingly plug in chargers, so common throughout Canada, do not seem to be popular here, the only place I have seen them is in the visitors car park of the US Embassy.   Many people also like to use the remote start in the summer to get the air-conditioning to reduce the internal temperature of the car so it has a year round benefit.  It can be a little disconcerting, however, to see cars start themselves as you walk along the street. 

Driving outside of the city is very different.  While Astana is fairly orderly I understand from friends that Almaty has a very different, somewhat aggressive driving culture.  Some of the motorways, most notably the road from Astana to Borovoye are modern three lane highways in fantastic condition with rest stops and petrol stations at reasonable distances.  The road to Karaganda is an older one lane highway with a lot of truck traffic and in need of extension.  Once you leave the highways behind the roads can be in very poor condition, often unmetalled or with large potholes.  Last year, following a visit to Malinovka, my sister and I returned to Astana over the steppe roads.  The journey  out took us 45 minutes by motorway, on the way back we drove much slower, with speeds reduced to 20kmph at times.  It would not be a comfortable road to drive on in winter.

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