Christmas in Moscow 1991 (Part 2)

As promised, older-brother was waiting for his younger brother. By the way, “older” brother was probably fifteen years younger than I. After some rapid-fire conversation in their Kazakh language, which I understood not a word, older brother shook my hand vigorously and replaced his brother as my arm-in-arm companion. Little did I know, this handoff from brother to brother was a significant cultural event that would take me many experiences with this pair to fully understand. As Madinyet followed behind us like a pack horse with my luggage, he occasionally interrupted addressing his brother as “Aggha”. I was puzzled since I was introduced to Azat. Later I would learn that younger siblings never used their oldest brother’s given name. He was always “older brother, Aggha,” no matter how old his siblings were. But the role of older brother went far beyond using language of respect. In the next few days, I would learn that deferring to older brother was in place for all interactions with his siblings including following behind his brother when escorting a foreign guest.

The rest of our time in the terminals rushed by as a blur. It seemed like it wasn’t even the same airport I had experienced in the past. Perhaps it wasn’t! The last time I was treated as a foreigner and "escorted" to the gate through a segregated waiting room for foreigners. This time, I was just another passenger. How would I have ever found my way without the agile maneuvering of these gentlemen? I was whisked from building to building through a seemingly endless maze of hallways and huge lobbies with indescribably dirty floors. Why such a complicated route, you might ask. To find the foreigner’s luggage, of course.

Older brother negotiated all of the navigation. He also asserted himself, many times, successfully with the many inquiries required to determine the location of the luggage for the foreigner coming in from Alma Ata. Yes, foreigners’ baggage is handled separately from those of the Soviet citizens on the same airplane. And the airport staff was even more suspicious since it was quite unheard of that any foreigners were in Alma Ata. I imagine that the airport people were insisting to Aggha that no foreigners lived in Alma Ta. This city had been closed to westerners for more than 70 years; until just recently. Much later that evening I was struck by the amazing gift of these gentlemen. How very difficult it would be to describe to my countrymen the number of checkpoints and gauntlets run by my new Kazakh friends. It was an incomprehensible contrast with our effortless baggage claims in US airports.

Oh, but there was a something even more sinister going on. Aggha had to convince the obviously suspicious airline staff that he was my “host.” It was probably not just the transparent racism of the Russian staff. They were surely wondering why a Kazak, with obvious Mongol facial features, would be escorting a foreigner in the Moscow domestic airport. Perhaps they were wondering why the Kazakhs didn't present their KGB credentials. The Soviet jealousy shone through as well. Why were these Kazakh from their boondocks afforded the privilege (and suspected financial reward!) of befriending this hard-currency bearing American?

Although very effective in obtaining information, older brother never conveyed anger, impatience or the slightest hint of an edge in his voice. The contrast to most of the Russians’ gruff, aggressive manner stood out and I took a mental note that I might be experiencing a telling cultural difference within the Soviet monolith.

As we neared the terminal exit doors, in my best ultra-independent American style, I was preparing to profusely thank my new friends and be on my way to negotiate a taxi. But I was clearly mistaken. My hosts had no intention of leaving me at the curb to fend for myself in finding a taxi. I would later learn the deeply ingrained Asian responsibility of a host for their guests; door-to-door – literally!

In Part 3 read about the hour-long taxi ride with my two new Kazakh hosts. And get a surprising glimpse of history unfolding on that cold Christmas night. A link will be added here when Part 3 is published.

http://adt719.hubpages.com/hub/Christmas-in-Moscow-1991-Part-3