
Both professionally and geographically, I tend to rush into things, and while I’m not risk-averse, I’m certainly risk-adjacent. Steadfastly chill, I never cause a fuss and don’t cause trouble, but I tend to end up where it occurs. Like being by myself on an overnight Soviet train in Kazakhstan.
Six months after graduating from Indiana University in 2009, stifled by the recession and without any clear goal, I signed a one-year contract to teach English in Daejeon, South Korea. I’d never taught before and I knew nothing about Korea or its language. So? The financial slingshot to a life abroad was far too appealing, and my one-year gamble turned into more than a decade in Asia.
After working four years in Korea and two in Singapore, I had traveled all over the world on whatever time off I had. Looking for my next place to explore, I saw I’d never been to Central Asia. Another solo trip, I flew into Astana, the nation’s capital and a testament to manufactured staleness. Rushed into modern existence after the Soviet collapse, it was missing the worn grooves, scars and character of a real city. Many wannabe-flashy buildings were mostly empty, no hustle within ‘em.
On to my real destination, I booked an overnight ticket on a 14-hour train ride to the mountains near Almaty. The train arrived at the platform in all its rusted, faded, former Soviet glory, still with a red star as its nose, greeting me with its antiquated charm.

“VL” (ВЛ) stands for Vladimir Lenin (Владимир Ленин).
Because I’m not wholly an idiot, I made sure to get a second-class ticket, where I wouldn’t be sleeping in a bed touching the main aisle. Instead, I settled into a four-berth compartment, at least a door away from regular ‘pedestrian’ traffic. I shared it with two younger Kazakh men, but like every respectful, seasoned passenger on a long journey, we left each other alone in silence.
I prepared well, meaning I had plenty of trustworthy snacks and enough vodka to power me through the steppe the Russian way. As a Yankee in Soviet territory, I had a shot or three of courage before I left our room. I wanted to check out the dining car and the train’s feel, but first, I had to piss.
This was not smooth traveling. The train rattled violently, never finding a good hold on the tracks. Even when seated, I had to keep hold of something.
Our compartment opened into a hallway of similar rooms, with bathrooms at either end. A marvel to behold, I was greeted by the pinnacle of lavatory technology in the Soviet Union. I was in a stainless steel cube with a shitty, busted up prison toilet. It didn’t have a seat anyone trusted, just the cold alloy to kiss your ass if you daree sit on it. (I didn’t.)

Best of all, the ‘handle’ was a pedal you stomped on, releasing your entire deposit directly on the tracks below as the train bolted along. Air blasted in at whatever speed the train was going. With Soviet logic, the bathrooms were locked 30 minutes before and after a stop to prevent fecal remains from amassing near platforms. (This explained the rush of passengers into every station we stopped at. And the lack of any line for the commode. Live and learn.)
I eagerly, though gingerly, pissed on Stalin’s desecrated soul several times on my way to the mountains near Big Almaty Lake. My aim was shaky, adding my personal urinary contribution to the squalor he left the world.
Leaving the penal latrine behind, I turned to exit the car and was faced with an open, blazing oven. A bucket of coal, and a handy shovel, were right beside it. On this train, like rock climbing, maintain three points of contact at all times. This is especially true when a stumble could easily melt your hands, and roast your face in the knee-high, roaring stove. The furnace had no guardrail, or anything else to protect you.

It seems ‘safe’ is a dirty capitalist word on Soviet trains. I was especially alert to these hazards, midway through my own bionic journey. One hip replacement was five years old and the other was three. Finicky with swiveling, they were naturally ideal for negotiating a violently jolting relic across the Kazakh steppe. Pity I had no audience for my Cold War Buster Keaton routine, complete with open fire hazards!
Next to the furnace was a door leading to my greatest challenge, just getting a beer from the dining car. But to do this, I’d have to walk between the cars, exposed to the air, and with no walkway. Of any kind. You had to walk directly across the steel couplings connecting the cars. I presume not a sandal-wearing activity. There was a tiny little chainlink railing on either side. Just one, a shaky, untrustworthy bastard. Both of ‘em.
It’s a pretty short crossing, I’ll give it that. One foot to lower down, and another to cross in one step, if you’re tall. I’m not, so two steps, one directly on that steel claw holding the train together. I saw locals doing it, as well, and they seemed used to it.
Safely across, I walked through a few platskarts to get to the dining room, where I’d have whatever domestic beer they had on hand. This was a third-class, steerage car. Stepping in, four bunks in total, two on either side, high and low beds. Across the aisle, along the window, were two seats with a little table between ‘em. At night, they folded into one bed, lying at waist-height to the aisle.
This was an overnight train, and many were already asleep as I walked through the darkened car. Keeping upright was a bit tricky. Arms up to balance myself as I passed each open ‘compartment,’ I smelled the poverty I was squeezing through. It was cramped, especially with people’s bags and luggage. Not only packing for a weekend or more, they also had to pack 14 hours of rations, two or three meals, plus drinks. Soon enough, the trash and bottles added up.
I shuffled through this dirty hotel before crossing another car coupling, where I entered another rolling dorm room before I got to the dining car.
I’m sure I got some sort of domestic beer, but I don’t remember which. The lady behind the counter had gray hair in curls, and she seemed nice enough, I suppose. The car itself looked like a grade school classroom with tiny tables. I was soon joined by a rather large man, stocky and bald. I soon learned he had a large gold tooth flashing right at me.

Our short exchange went okay, so I thought, but he followed me as I walked to leave the dining car. He blocked my way near the bathrooms and grabbed at my tablet I’d brought with me. It became a bit of a tussle with pushing and shoving. It wasn’t a movie fight scene and he was rather drunk, so I was able to stiff-arm his collar and veer him into the wall. No punches were thrown, but we both barked at each other throughout our exchange.
The barmaid may have been responsible for calling security, and they were soon there to separate me from the sloshy thug. Wearing olive-green uniforms and hats, still decorated with Soviet stars, they told me to return to my room in broken English. They shuffled the man away to wherever former Soviets shuffle current ruffians.
Ignoring the guards, I stayed for another drink. “He is trouble,” the woman told me. Our chat was interrupted when the guards returned and berated me for not going back to my bunk as I was told. It was darkly chilling to be ordered around by men in Soviet uniforms, especially as an outsider. Not in the mood to test their patience, I swiftly waded back through steerage to elude the Reds and Boris, just in case. I jostled the rest of the night in my bottom bunk, hanging on to combat the turbulence.
As we closed in on Almaty, Kazakhstan’s largest city, the scenery shifted from the flat steppe to the blue, snow-peaked Tian Shan mountains. On my short stay here, my goal was to see Big Almaty Lake, which rests in a gorge between mountains, still more than eight thousand feet above sea level.

I didn’t know that color existed, a sort of glacial turquoise, the perfect crayon for ‘serenity.’ More importantly, I got to discover it the hard way. Coming off fourteen hours in a dark, dangerous, Cold War-era train, the water’s mirror sheen hit like film suddenly exposed to color after months in a dusty attic.

The cable-car tram wasn’t running that day, so I took a taxi back to Almaty, and the driver became another highlight of my trip. He insisted on pointing out everything outside that was ‘good’ by gesturing to it and shouting “GOOT!” (He pronounced ‘goot’ like ‘boot’ or ‘root.’)
On our way down the gorgeous mountainside, many, many times, he’d interject a loud and cheerful “GOOT! GOOT!” as we passed something he thought was exciting, which was absolutely everything. This continued non-stop through the valley as we drove past scenic views, brutalist buildings, and various Soviet monuments back into the city.
At the end of my short stay, I flew back out of Almaty to resume life and work in Daejeon. In the Teacher’s Room, the other expats also lived a lifestyle that rhymed with mine. When they asked how my trip went, I offered a polite, noncommittal shrug. “It went okay,” I compromised, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention. (Just yet.) They understood plenty more would spill out later. Being accosted aboard a Cold War train made my journey feel more earned, with a helluva story as my prized souvenir.
GOOT!

Welcome back! After the Crest Quest toothbrush adventure and my failed return back to Korea in March 2020, welcome to Part 3 of my project! This takes us back to Kazakhstan to reveal character before The Incident struck, retracing something I first shared here back in 2019(!), two years after my trip to Central Asia.
I just finished the next chapter detailing why I went back to Korea again in 2021 for one last year-long contract teaching. That one ends a bit suspiciously, with sirens signaling the cops’ imminent arrival to question me…, but will be concluded in Pt. 5 as I semi-triumphantly, part ‘childishly,’ returned to America for good in 2022!
In many I’ve had, this may have been my craziest adventure. Hope ya enjoy!
You’re a better man than I, Evan. I wouldn’t have thought of that trip solo.
Cool story, dealing with the drunk thief and then the guards would definitely make the trip memorable.
That lake color looks fake.
Any mining or quarrying ever done in that valley? 🤔
Apparently not, GT. As for color: “As glaciers high in the Trans-Ili Alatau mountains melt, they scrape against the bedrock, grinding the stone into fine, powdery mineral particles. This sediment is carried down by the Bolshaya Almatinka River into the lake. When sunlight hits these suspended mineral particles, it scatters the light, reflecting the vibrant turquoise hue.
• Seasonal Changes: In the spring, the water looks more milky-blue due to rapid snowmelt and heavy sediment. By September and October, the sediment settles, and the water becomes a deep, clear turquoise.”
I got there Sept. 30, 2017, so I suppose that’s why. The lake was so still, last time I wrote it looked like Christ could walk across it.
I’ve seen a couple of glacier fed lakes.
They have that look. Which is super cool.
An entertaining tale – thanks Evan!
I second this!
Thirded!
Thinks like this make me wish downloading memories was actually possible.
Download the time Hannah Lore invited me over to her place in ’06 for the weekend without her parents there. She tried to bone me and I was too insecure, childish and naive to respond. Hands down, no joke, my biggest regret. Wallow in that one for 20+ years…
Now, ya see, I don’t want ya to be able to *do* anything to change that memory. Just stagnant in it, feeling my 19yo idiocy flow through you for ~4 days, with no ability to alter the lit sexual fuse that I completely failed to allow to spark. Fucking. Fuck. Fuck. *stabs cuticle*
If I could sell this Kazakh memory, however… I absolutely think people would pay top dollar for it. (As long as they don’t have to actually *do* anything.) Well, telling the story’s likely the best I can do! Soon, Chapter 4 will share ‘why’ this project is happening and kinda ‘addresses’ that.
Traveling in France/Germany in the ’50s-’60s was tame compared to Evan’s experiences.
Ev, you have more experience with dicey situations overseas than most people who’ve ever worked for CIA.
The guy who wrote The Art of Intelligence got hired by CIA because he spent a few years traipsing through shithole countries instead of going to college. He ended up in Africa spending most his time bribing North Korean diplomats with porn.
https://archive.org/details/artofintelligenc0000crum/mode/2up
I should add that most of the stars on the CIA memorial wall are for people who died in plane crashes, and that more Peace Corps volunteers have died overseas. In my bunch, 40 of us went and 39 came back. RIP, Joseph Chow.
https://fpcv.org/fallen-pcvs/
“Ev, you have more experience with dicey situations overseas than most people who’ve ever worked for CIA.”
Ha! Thanks? Big backhanded compliment and I’ll take it in the most positive way possible. (Which is I think what ya meant.)
I’ll def be reading that. RIP Joseph Chow.
platskarts – learned a new word
I’m sure I got some sort of domestic beer – good thing it was not domestic wine. worst i ever had.
World class verbal gymnastics
Well, look, they didn’t like the Biden rules. And now it wasn’t an E.V. mandate, as the Trump administration calls. However, it was part of a multipronged strategy to force auto companies to build more E.V.s and ultimately likely get to an all-E.V. world.
By having high standards, the easiest way to comply would have been through building E.V.s. Now, in this new world, you don’t have to build E.V.s. Why? Because there’s no regulatory benefits. There’s no credits. There’s no $7,500 E.V. tax credit, and so it is much more of a market-based strategy, and the government’s not requiring these efficiency improvements that would give people benefits, even if they’re not necessarily willing to pay for it.
The war on objective reality continues unabated.
Clinging desperately to the narrative. They’d rather die in a battery fire than admit their house of cards narrative is collapsing around them.
Meanwhile, all the stupid desperate “fine tuning” of internal combustion engines has led to massive reliability problems, shortened lifespan and made rebuilding engines a losing proposition. All in pursuit of a completely imaginary “clean” future.
Lefties just love manipulating the system to try and get their desired commie results. It’ll work next time!
See! This proves the market doesn’t work even with the right incentives. Now we go to COMMAND!
On top of all of that they will never, ever admit that EVs – like all the other green fantasies – are more expensive and more environmentally damaging to produce.
Why do you hate leftist delusions?
Why do you hate leftist delusions?
How much time have you got for me to explain?
Electric cars are great way to enrich China and promote child labor in Africa while pretending to save the earth.
I’ve never seen the part of the constitution that authorizes CAFE standards. Or seatbelt laws, or the CDL…
Verbal gymnastics, indeed.
It would be shame if your business would burn down . . . .
We weren’t going to mandate companies build EVs or people drive them, but we were going to fine companies into oblivion and stab consumers in the face until they did what we wanted.
I think ultimately EVs will win out in most urban areas where range is not a factor (and in Europe) simply due to getting better at the technology and the reduced moving parts/maintenance costs. They shouldn’t need a finger on the scale from government to become viable.
We just paid off wife’s Acura RDX and she went to get an oil change and well, blown head gasket.
Best “2nd car”. I love my Tesla for my purposes. Works great around town and running costs are cheap.
I can just make it to visit relatives across NJ without recharging and occasional DC fast charging doesn’t chew up enough time to negate the benefits.
However, if I lived in colder places with longer distances and a more rural environment – that would be a big “no thanks”.
driving 4 answers had a great video on the massive infrastructure changes that would be required to replace IC cars with EVs even just in cities.
We had a hundred years to build out the infrastructure to service IC cars. It will take decades before an all-EV fleet can be supported. And the old infrastructure has to be in place at the same time.
The market will never support this on its own.
from the dead thread
***
Not Adahn on September 29, 2026 at 10:48 am
Eh. This whole “Iran is indestructible and the US is impotent and the only reasons that Iran hasn’t struck back and obliterated the US in righteous justice is because they are kind, wise and benevolent” narrative was old the moment it first got trotted out.
***
C’mon. You’re smart enough to know what a strawman argument is.
We laugh at the Japanese who pretend that one day, for no reason at all, the US dropped atomic bombs on them in an unprovoked and unprecedented act of cruelty.
Yet there are so many Americans who act as though one day, for no reason at all, Iranians started chanting death to America, stormed our embassy, and took our people hostage.
Yeah, all that had nothing to do with the US overthrowing their democratically elected government and installing a dictator whose secret police were trained by the CIA.
Blowback. It’s a thing.
When Iran gets blowback from Israel, it’s somehow Israel’s fault.
Is it hypocritical for a country with nuclear weapons to kill another country’s nuclear scientists or sabotage their equipment?
How about if the only country that’s ever used nuclear weapons in anger bombs the nuclear facilities of another country?
Double standards, how do they work?
Every country in the Middle East has been fucking with its neighbors since god was in short pants, and that will continue until the sun reaches room temperature.
We gain nothing by getting involved.
In terms of realpolitik, the only country we should prop up is Saudi Arabia, because they promised to sell oil in dollars in 1932. The petrodollar became the new gold standard. Nixon and Kissinger deserve credit for cementing that.
Of course, if we had stuck with the gold standard, we wouldn’t have had to flail desperately for an alternative.
Having military assets while denying them to your enemies isn’t hypocrisy.
Literally nothing I wrote had anything to do with deserts.
It’s criticizing the mindset of those who have a pathological oikophobia that manifests as a need to pretend that the US is utterly ineffective at anything/everything.
Did ya ever think that criticism of U.S. foreign policy might have some basis in the utter incompetence of the employees of the federal government? That what THEY think are our interests aren’t necessarily OUR interests.
I invite you to ponder why some Americans might be cynical about the abilities of our government and military. Hint: Afghanistan.
Is it oikophobia to not want the US to get in another quagmire in the Middle East?
We could save a lot of time and money and just abandon a bunch of military equipment for the Iranians to loot.
Oh wait. Iranian-backed militias have been doing that in Iraq since 2011.
https://www.longwarjournal.org/archives/2026/09/iranian-backed-militia-in-iraq-sets-conditions-for-disarmament.php
Friendly tip NA:
‘Desert’ is a barren, typically sandy, large expanse of sand. Spelled with one ‘s’ because with a desert you want less.
‘Dessert’ is an after-meal course, featuring sweet food. Spelled with ‘ss’ because you always want more.
Useful mnemonic of the day.
/pedant mode
Uncle Sam hasn’t had too many wins since the moon landing.
We won the Cold War so we could…fight a proxy war with Russia?
Iran isn’t indestructible NA, and it’s people aren’t just folks like us. If we can dispense with one stupid premise can we lose the other too?
Rebelling against the overthrow of a democratically elected government by establishing a theocratic dictatorship is next-level thinking.
Disclaimer: I wanted nothing to do with this current war from the get-go.
Khomeini was a smooth talker, and angry people are easily duped.
Blowback?
Islam.
Iran is not about Iran. Neither was Venezuela.
Trump likes to smash the status quo and try to make something better out of the rubble. It’s a hit or miss gambit.
which democratically elected government ?
Cossack is a variant of Kazakh. Both words mean come from the Turkish word for nomad/adventure. So Kazakhstan is land of adventurers. Their flag with the eagle soaring under the sun is cool. And their language can sound like a diesel engine starting in cold weather.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqUSDIC49jw
Their president threw some shade at Putin and lived.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Momruyhqk-o
Lefties just love manipulating the system to try and get their desired commie results.
The ignorant unwashed need the benevolent guidance of their intellectually superior masters. Everybody knows this.
If only those stupid rubes would realize how smart we are and get on board with our plans, everything would be perfect.
MY LOL lunchtime reading.
https://x.com/harukaawake/status/2104912828234973489?s=20
I literally LOL’d – yeah, as Butch said “it’s that fall that will kill you…”
It’s not the fall that kills you; it’s the fall *ending* that kills you.
Imagine starving to death in an infinite fall.
That’s a new twist in the fear of black holes.
Sad consumer
Consumer sentiment fell to its lowest level since 2014 in September as an inflation-weary public took a dimmer view on the labor market and the impact higher prices would have on their finances, the Conference Board reported Tuesday.
The board’s Consumer Confidence Index tumbled to 81.9, a decline of 6.7 points and a reading well below the Dow Jones consensus forecast for 89.
Listening to the press shriek nonstop about how the economy is imploding has an effect? We all know a depression is just around the corner unless Democrat-ocracy is restored.
https://grantspub.com/cartoonbank/index.cfm
Are those supposed to be funny?
I’m sure someone at the Atlantic would publish them.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWVsPS1bx5k
Am I experiencing deja vu? I swear this story and pictures are familiar…
Nah, it’s Vuja De. You’ll see this same story again later
Seriously, we were up to over 1 in 4 women in 2021-22.
https://notthebee.com/article/polling-shows-teens-are-becoming-straight-again
Actual Gays are under 3%, any number above that contains liars.
UCS I think the real percentage is around 0.2-0.5.
The rest is social contagion end grooming.
I still like to believe all women are bi. Just like no men are.
As a Gen X parent of young kids there was a huge shift in children’s books and programing that takes a stark turn between 2010-12.
The normalization of homosexuality in children’s media starts here. We pre read everything published around 2005 and later.
The propaganda in the 80s and 90s was environmentalism and anti corporate. A little later it was racial. It’s been gay for well over a decade now.
Have faith
“Ultimately, President Trump will make the decision that is best for the American people.”
Not gonna sugarcoat it. I have doubts.
The best decision for the American people would be to stop surrendering to China in the name of the elusive deal, and send secret kill teams to expurgate the deep state and the cancer metastized throughout the state apparatuses.
The problem is how you end the program when the legitimate targets are done to avoid a reign of terror afterwards.
Enjoyed the tale Evan! Thanks
Meanwhile, Gov. Gavin Newsom announced Monday that he’d suspended a requirement that refineries supply a cleaner, but more expensive gasoline blend typically used in summer months when air pollution is worse, taking a swipe at Trump in the process.
“For over seven months, the Trump administration and Republicans in Congress have failed to protect working families from their nationwide gas and diesel price crisis – and there is still no end in sight to the war,” Newsom said in a statement. “California will keep doing what we can to bring costs down and protect consumers – but states cannot indefinitely insulate families from a global oil shock. Trump must end his war.”
He should be in a Faraday cage wearing an asbestos suit when he says stuff like that.
“My aim was shaky, adding my personal urinary contribution to the squalor he left the world.”
Poignant.
I actually remember this Bloom County.
https://x.com/wtfcetialpha5/status/2104891230710579403