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About Karaganda

I’d be strollin, hair all poofed up, mutterin, “Hmm… he’s not my lover,” like in the movie, but swap “lover” for “pimp”—ha! Imagine me sidesteppin some sleazy dude, “Oh no ya don’t, buster!” Prolly get all weepy too, thinkin bout how she’s got no Mr. Chow to sweep her off her feet. That movie’s all bout what ain’t said, right? But here, it’s loud—catcalls, hagglin over prices, no mystery, just cold hard cash.

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When those men picked a place hide while staking out the land, I wonder if they knew they'd end up in a brothel. They may not have known they.

First off, I hit the road on Kabanbay Batyr Street. You know, the one that’s always packed with cars and people? Yeah, that one. I’m cruisin’, feelin’ good, when suddenly, BAM! A cat darts out in front of me. I slam the brakes. Heart’s racing. I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just a cat!” But it’s Altay, so of course, the cat just stares me down like it owns the place. I swear, it was judging my driving skills.

Finding traditional craft – making fur snowboards in Altay