Almaty, Kazakhstan, on Saturday, October 11, 2014.
Lunch in Almaty involves meat with fried egg and polenta.
We ended up at this “diner” because the first restaurant he picked — specializing in local food — wasn’t open yet. Each table is a room with a closed door and you have to take your shoes off.
Mürat ordered for us because the menu was all in Cyrillic. I noticed he ate what I ate, except for this one suspicious apple cider he got only for me. I was cautious because it was the only thing I would consume that he wouldn’t.
He noticed my trepidation. “Why you like that? You think it’s poison?!” I wondered if it was a double bluff. I mean, I’ve only known the guy for 2 hours.
#NeverTrustAKazakhstaniWhenDeathIsOnTheLine?
In the end it was fine, but I didn’t drink the whole thing.
Mürat had nothing to do today so he is showing me around. #takingridesfromstrangers
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