Cab conversations with Yrmek

ALMATY – I entered the Black Chevy, wrestling with my camera pack and gave the driver an obligatory “Sälem.” The Almaty sky was clear, but the roads were not. The driver, named Yrmek Yeshengazy, made a passing comment about people on the road that could be understood universally.

I watched as he motioned to my classmate, who was in the passenger seat, the Russian propaganda that he had been watching on his YouTube Shorts. One, two, three, four, five – with every swipe of Yrmek’s finger, a new video showing soldiers or guns popped up on his screen.

When the conversation turned to kokpar (a nomadic game played on horseback), Yrmek revealed that he was more than familiar with the sport. Cue Google Translate. With the audio function in hand (literally), a stilted conversation ensued. Yrmek spoke into his phone in Russian, text appeared in English and a monotone AI voice filled the cab – in English and in Russian – as we took turns asking each other questions. But soon enough the conversation flowed like one between old friends.

Yrmek grew up in a village outside of Almaty, where kokpar was played regularly. “We are gifted horses when we are seven years old,” he said (via Google Translate). He moved to Almaty when life in his village became difficult. No more horses and no more kokpar – but he still plays when he goes back to his village.

As the phone was passed back and forth between the driver and passenger seats, the conversation once again shifted. This time, to Yrmek’s pride as a Kazakh.

“If you noticed, the Kazakhs, of course,” read the screen, “are a belligerent people, but very friendly.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the truth of that statement. In the six days that I had been in Almaty, I witnessed an outpouring of kindness and generosity.

The cab ride with Yrmek was just one example of these qualities. I found myself in awe of his friendly spirit and his willingness to go out of his way to communicate with a group of Americans he would never see again. I reached out for the phone as politely as I could, wanting to pick Yrmek’s brain a little more before he pressed the power button.

Another thing to note about Yrmek was his disdain for Soviet Russia. Born seven years before the collapse of the USSR, he reminisced about his childhood living in Soviet Kazakhstan. He said he grew up with the Soviet version of Kazakh history, but when he got older, he said his father told him the “true” history of his people.

“The Russians have always tried to suppress the Kazakhs and have hindered the freedom of the Kazakhs in every possible way,” said Yrmek. In a country where the collective memory of life in the Soviet Union is polarized, his blunt candor was surprising.

As Yrmek speculated about a possible Russian invasion of Kazakhstan (spoiler alert – he doesn’t believe it will happen), we pulled up to our destination. I found myself a little hesitant to open the door – our game of Telephone had been so much fun.

In the end, we stepped out of the car, said our goodbyes and watched the Black Chevy drive away. In 30 minutes, a whole new world had opened up for me.

Next time you’re in a cab in a foreign country, open up Google Translate. You might find yourself a Yrmek.