World travelers often disagree about what constitutes “visiting” a country. What is the minimum requirement that one needs to satisfy? Do you need to stay overnight? Spend a full day? Or is it enough to hang out for a few hours at the airport during a layover without going outside? Personally, I’m not particularly impressed with the “I’ve been to X number of countries” statement when someone tries to inflate their total number by doing the bare minimum. But to each their own. So, if I tell you that I spent only two hours in Kazakhstan, that wouldn’t count as visiting, right? How can I really say that I have “visited” the ninth largest country in the world by spending only two short hours there? But what if I tell you that in those two hours, I had managed to have a traumatic experience that I wouldn’t forget any time soon? Would that count as “visiting”?
I think it would.
Kazakhstan was our “visa run” solution. When we bought our plane tickets to Uzbekistan, we didn’t immediately realize that visa-free visits for U.S. citizens were limited only to 30 days. And because we planned to stay in Uzbekistan for 33 days, we needed to orchestrate a “visa run” to exit and re-enter the country to reset the clock on our 30-day stay. We had several options, including going to Kyrgyzstan from Fergana Valley, but the most reasonable option involved visiting Kazakhstan from Tashkent.
In the morning, we ordered a YandexGo taxi to the border town of Kaplanbek. The driver took us as close as he could, but, as we approached the border, we got stuck in traffic. We got out of the car and walked to the border crossing. The scene at the border was chaotic: people moving in and out of the crossing zone, vendors selling lepeshki and kvas drinks, money exchange offers flying at us from everywhere.
To cross the border, we first needed to show our passports to the Uzbek border control agents. They examined our documents carefully and questioned us about our itinerary in Uzbekistan and whether we had properly registered in the country. They even asked Julia to show them pictures of us in Bukhara and other places. The questioning was tense, and we nervously waited for them to let us exit the country.
Then came the border crossing. The two countries are separated by a river, and we crossed the border on a footbridge, with the menacing barbed wire guarding both sides of the riverbank. The Kazakh border control agents didn’t ask any questions and just waved us in.
After entering Kazakhstan and thus fulfilling our obligation to exit Uzbekistan, we could have just turned around and walked back to Uzbekistan. There was no minimum of time we needed to spend in Kazakhstan. But since we were already here -- in the new country that we hadn’t visited before -- we decided to spend a few hours. We exchanged dollars into Kazakh tenge and then hailed an old, beat-up taxi to take us to the public market in Saryagash, the nearby border town.
The reason we stuck around in Kazakhstan was my chance to try kymyz, a fermented mare’s milk drink. I am a big fan of fermented dairy products and have always enjoyed kefir, ayran, and tan. Kymyz is not available in the U.S. as far as I know, and we didn’t see it in Uzbekistan either. So, this was my chance.
The market in Saryagash was like many markets that we had visited in Uzbekistan, and there were many of the same offerings on sale. But also, there was something new. As we searched for kymyz, we saw a woman with a bucket of milky liquid with pieces of apples, cucumbers, bell peppers, and tomatoes floating in the bucket. She was stirring this colorful mixture with a broom made from dill.
“Did you see us on TikTok?”
Apparently, the drink had gone viral after being shared by a German tourist on the popular social media platform. She even gave us a sample to try. The drink was pleasant and tasted like cold okroshka soup. But it wasn’t kymyz we were searching for.
After circling market stalls for a while, we finally found the spot! A middle-aged Kazakh woman in a colorful dress and headscarf operated a stand with enameled buckets and Coca-Cola bottles filled with milky solutions. The sign written in Kazakh listed three options: saumal, kymyz, and kymyran.
We knew what kymyz was -- fermented mare’s milk, the favorite drink of semi nomadic Kazakh people. What about the other two? The woman told us saumal was fresh mare’s milk and kymyran was camel milk. We asked to try saumal, and the sample was watery and slightly sweet. Nothing special to be honest. We decided not to buy it. Now, in retrospect, I realize we should have asked for samples of kymyz and kymyran too, but in the moment, we just didn’t think clearly. Trying kymyz was the raison d'être for this side trip. As for camel milk, I once bought it from a Chicago grocery store, and a small bottle was $20. Here, it was way cheaper, so it made sense to go for it. We went ahead and asked for 0.5 liters of both. No additional questions asked, no samples requested.
The Kazakh woman carefully stirred the liquids in both buckets with a big, red ladle and then filled two empty Coca-Cola bottles.
We headed outside for a highly anticipated tasting.
First, kymyran. Camel milk for which I overpaid in Chicago several years ago was delicious: fatty, dense, with rich buttery flavor, and a pleasant aftertaste. The Kazakh version, however, was simply disappointing. It was watery, bland, with no notable profile, and with a slightly unpleasant aftertaste. Oh well … At least, we didn’t pay $20 for it.
Kymyz should taste better, right?
Julia decided that it was worth recording the historic moment on video:
Victor tries kymyz for the first time.
I opened the bottle and went for the biggest possible gulp. Like, a very big gulp. Why? Because I had been waiting for this moment for so long. Going for a tiny sip would have undermined the gravitas of the occasion. As I finished the swig, I was processing what the tasting profile was. The first second, it was fine, then another second… and then it hit me.
“Oh my god, it’s disgusting. It’s disgusting.” I squealed, rolling my eyes in disgust and wiping my mouth and trying to get rid of the horrible taste. Julia laughed her ass off while taping my debacle.
The taste was absolutely beyond evil. Kymyz was sour and slightly sparkling but the smell and the aftertaste was like a sweaty horse had taken a bath in ayran and then the Kazakh woman filled her enameled buckets with the “bathwater”. Ugh…
Seeing my painful reaction, Julia took a tiny sip and concurred that the taste was indeed abhorrent.
I was sitting on the bench sweating profusely and processing what had just happened. After the initial shock passed, I wanted to do it again. It was not simply possible that it was so bad. Maybe my first impression was wrong? Maybe it’s an acquired taste? After making all the effort to get to Kazakhstan, I was not ready to give up on kymyz so fast. It's got to have some redeeming quality, right? Stinky tofu in Taiwan smelled bad, but the taste was good. Maybe the second try will be better. I was rattling off the reasons to Julia as to why I wanted to do it again. She nodded but was preparing to press the RECORD button again.
I took a smaller but still a decent gulp. This time, it hit me even faster.
“Fuck! Fuck! Why am I doing this to myself?” I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes, trying to fend off the repulsive taste and smell altogether. Julia was laughing uncontrollably.
Enough. I was done trying to poison myself. We ditched both Coca Cola bottles into the nearby garbage bin and went back to the woman selling the colorful TikTok drink to get the foul taste out of my mouth.
After this traumatic kymyz experience, there was nothing else for us to do in this Kazakh town. We took a taxi back to the border, exchanged tenge to som, and hastily crossed the border to return to the safe haven of Uzbekistan.
So, did I visit Kazakhstan or not? In my view, I did. Yes, I was there just for two hours but the border crossing and the kymyz tasting were so intense that I will surely remember this day. Let’s agree that if you have a funny story to tell, that counts as a “visit.” Of course, I want to return to Kazakhstan. To explore the country properly, and maybe, maybe even try kymyz one more time.
