Showpiece Kazakh capital opens world’s biggest tent
Swimming on the steppe? In Kazakhstan’s showpiece capital, it seems
nothing is impossible.
Khan Shatyr, billed as the world’s biggest tent, is the latest
addition to Astana’s futuristic skyline. Designed by British architect
Norman Foster, it houses indoor beaches and waterfalls, as well as a
mini golf course and botanic gardens.
Its Turkish builders call it the “King Among Tents”. A web of cables
spun from a slanting, 150-metre mast supports a transparent plastic roof
resistant to the extreme temperatures of the steppe, which in winter can
hit minus 35 degrees Celsius. Astana — “capital” in the Kazakh language
— is President Nursultan Nazarbayev’s gift to Kazakhstan. More than $12
billion has been spent on transforming a Soviet agricultural town into
the new seat of government for Central Asia’s largest economy. “Astana
was built thanks alone to the president’s will,” said Kairat Aitekenov,
managing director of Kazakh sovereign wealth fund Samruk-Kazyna.
In the days leading up to Nazarbayev’s 70th birthday on Tuesday, also
the 13th anniversary of Astana’s capital status, state television
channels broadcast concerts to celebrate the city. Heartfelt paeans have
already been written in its honour.
“Astana makes me proud. It symbolises beauty,” said civil servant
Zhak Khairushev, who moved to the capital a decade ago from the northern
city of Pavlodar. Nazarbayev moved the capital from Kazakhstan’s largest
city and financial centre, Almaty, in 1997, preferring a central
location to revitalise an ailing post-Soviet economy. The former
capital’s proximity to China in a region prone to earthquakes also
encouraged the move, government officials say.
Astana has swallowed up the city once known as Tselinograd, or
“Virgin Lands City”, the focal point of Soviet leader Nikita
Khrushchev’s 1950s campaign to cultivate vast tracts of land.
Since becoming the capital, Astana’s population has trebled to
750,000. City planners foresee 1.2 million residents by 2030 as young
civil servants and their families take root. The average age of the
population is around 30.
“The migration of government officials is complete,” said Sarsembek
Zhunusov, the city’s chief architect. “We are already starting to fulfil
our functions as a capital city.”
Migrant labourers who flock to the city in search of work and better
pay have also contributed to the jump in population.
Kairat Sarsenbayev, 25, earns about $800 a month installing the
plumbing systems for luxury apartment blocks. This is four times what he
could earn at home in southern Uzbekistan.
“This is a modern, attractive city but in order to live well here,
you need to earn good money,” he said.
Sarsenbayev works seven days a week and shares a one-room apartment
with four other labourers from Uzbekistan. They each pay $35 a month in
rent and send most of their earnings home.
Residents have affectionate nicknames for the futuristic buildings
rising from the barren steppe. The Baiterek tower is known as Chupa
Chups, after the popular lollipop brand.
Ask a taxi driver for the “zazhigalka” — cigarette lighter in Russian
— and he will take you to the angular glass building that houses the
transport and industry ministries.
But for some living in the shadow of the city’s original mosque, on
the other side of the Ishim river, the architectural extravagance only
heightens the gap between rich and poor. Bolat Zhakenov washes in a
rickety wooden outhouse with water carried in plastic bottles from a
nearby pump. Behind corrugated metal fences, children play among piles
of rubbish.
“This is the centre of a capital city in the 21st century, and we
live in a slum,” says Zhakenov, 42, an interior decorator when he can
find work. He chewed on a matchstick as he spoke.
“Our neighbourhood isn’t part of their plans.” He says he once spent
a day in jail for starting renovations to his squat, whitewashed house
without planning permission. Without such permission, he says, he cannot
make improvements to a home that floods when the snow melts every
spring.
Meanwhile, on the lavish left bank of the Ishim, Italian acoustics
experts are already working on the next project: a classical-style opera
house to seat 1,200 people.
Reuters |