• KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00216 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10698 0.09%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28530 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00216 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10698 0.09%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28530 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00216 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10698 0.09%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28530 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00216 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10698 0.09%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28530 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00216 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10698 0.09%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28530 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00216 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10698 0.09%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28530 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00216 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10698 0.09%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28530 0%
  • KGS/USD = 0.01144 0%
  • KZT/USD = 0.00216 0%
  • TJS/USD = 0.10698 0.09%
  • UZS/USD = 0.00008 0%
  • TMT/USD = 0.28530 0%

Viewing results 1 - 6 of 188

Kazakh Writer Aigul Klinovskaya on Memory, Identity, and the Rise of Contemporary Literature

In recent years, interest in contemporary literature has grown noticeably in Kazakhstan. Authors are increasingly reaching readers directly, taking part in public events, promoting their books through social media, and speaking about local experiences as part of a broader cultural landscape. The Times of Central Asia spoke with Kazakhstani writer Aigul Klinovskaya about her path into literature, the role of memory and place in her prose, and what contemporary authors need today to gain greater visibility both within the country and abroad. TCA: To begin with, please tell us a little about yourself. How did you become a writer? Aigul: I came to literature from IT, that is a well-known fact, and something I often mention in interviews. I worked at a large telecommunications company and headed a department, but at a certain point, I completely changed my field of activity. Now I write my own books and also help other authors shape their manuscripts as a literary editor and mentor. People work with me to finish and refine their manuscripts, increasing their chances of publication or success in literary competitions. TCA: When did you first feel that writing was not just an interest for you, but an important part of your life? Aigul: I tried writing as a child. I had a science fiction novella with an interesting story behind it: I sent it to a children’s magazine, and they replied that the work was good but still needed improvement. I was offended and, in the heat of the moment, destroyed the manuscript. I regret that now because it would have been interesting to reread it. As a child, I wrote poems and short stories; many people go through that stage. But I began writing prose seriously about five years ago. At that time, I took part in a writing marathon, wrote a short story, and it was immediately included in an anthology. That inspired me: I realized that I could and wanted to write fiction. The transition from short stories to longer forms was not easy. I wondered whether I could do it and whether I would manage. But now two of my books have already been published, and a third is coming out in June, so something must be working. Many people are surprised to learn that, for most of my life, I was not involved in literature professionally but worked in a completely different field. Now, however, I feel that I am in the right place. TCA: Your texts often pay close attention to a person’s inner life, to memory, and to the warmth of everyday relationships. Why are these themes close to you? Aigul: I am interested in people in general, their relationships and emotions. As an author, I want readers, when they immerse themselves in my books, to feel something: to cry at some moments, laugh at others, smile, and reflect. I believe that every person’s fate is worthy of a book because many remarkable things happen in life. If they are described well,...

From Almaty to Bali: Two Cyclists from Kazakhstan on Their Bicycle Journey

Alina and Maksim Pak, a young married couple from Almaty, have spent several months cycling from Kazakhstan to the Indonesian island of Bali, a journey of more than 8,000 kilometers across multiple borders. Their daily updates on Instagram have drawn widespread attention, turning them into social media personalities. The Times of Central Asia spoke with them about how they embarked on the journey, the challenges they faced, and how the experience has changed them. TCA: Cycling from Almaty to Bali sounds bold. Do you remember the moment when the idea became a plan? Who initiated it? Maksim: It’s been my dream since childhood back when I used to ride a BMX bike. I thought about it a lot, but it always seemed impossible. Then one day I realized: if not now, then when? Alina initially thought it was a joke, but eventually I convinced her. We mapped out the route in just three or four days, and preparation took 45 days. We found sponsors, posted videos every day, learned blogging along the way, and gradually gained support from people. [caption id="attachment_48398" align="aligncenter" width="225"] @instagram.com/alina_pakk[/caption] TCA: Were you scared at all? Alina: Very much so. But not on the road, at the beginning, during preparation. We had almost nothing, no proper gear, no clear plan, no certainty that it would work. It felt like we physically wouldn’t even be able to start, too many “buts” and too few resources. But every day we sat down and visualized how we would travel, what we would eat, who we would meet. The fear was there, yes. That’s exactly why we went. If it’s not scary, then the goal isn’t big enough. TCA: What does a typical day on the road look like? Are all days different? Maksim: Our routine formed quite quickly. We wake up around 7 a.m., nature doesn’t let you sleep longer, especially when the tent is in the sun. We have breakfast, pack up, and by 9 a.m., we’re already cycling. The first stretch is about three hours, then we take a mandatory lunch break and rest for an hour or so, otherwise the body doesn’t recover. After that, we ride again until 5 or 6 p.m., depending on how we feel and the road conditions. When we find a place to stop, we set up the tent, and then the second shift begins: we work, editing videos and replying to messages. The day ends around 10 p.m. And yet every day is completely different, new cities, new people, new landscapes. It never gets boring. TCA: You’ve already cycled through China, Vietnam, Thailand, and are now in Malaysia. Which country surprised you the most? Are people the same everywhere? Maksim: Honestly, every country surprised us in its own way. It’s impossible to single one out. In some places it’s the nature, in others the food, in others the way people treat strangers. Overall, people are very similar everywhere, despite different languages and cultures. Everyone has the same concerns, work, family,...

UNEP Interview: From Space, Central Asia’s Methane Challenge Comes Into Focus

Satellites are changing the way the world sees methane. What was once an invisible leak from a well, flare, pipeline, landfill, or coal mine can now be detected from space, traced to a specific site, and sent to governments and companies for action. A new analysis by the United Nations Environment Programme’s International Methane Emissions Observatory puts that system to the test. Its Methane Alert and Response System, known as MARS, uses 35 satellite instruments to identify major human-caused methane “super-emitters” and notify those responsible. UNEP says the system has already enabled 41 mitigation cases in 11 countries, covering sources estimated to have released 1.2 million tonnes of methane. For Central Asia, the findings are especially relevant. UNEP’s new data includes a rolling list of the world’s 50 largest satellite-detected methane sources, covering oil and gas, coal, and waste, and shows where rapid action may be possible. Several of those sources are linked to Turkmenistan’s oil and gas sector, placing the region firmly inside a global debate over methane transparency, climate responsibility, and whether satellite alerts can lead to action on the ground. Of the 50 sources featured in the latest UNEP/IMEO snapshot, China has the largest number, while Turkmenistan stands out sharply for Central Asia, with the second-largest individual source and four of the top ten. Methane is shorter-lived than carbon dioxide, but far more powerful in the near term. That makes cutting large leaks one of the fastest ways to slow global warming. The harder question, as UNEP’s latest data makes clear, is no longer only where the leaks are, but who responds when they are found. On April 30, UNEP/IMEO presented the new MARS findings, highlighting the growing role of satellite-based monitoring in identifying major methane sources and pressing governments and companies to act. The Times of Central Asia spoke with Meghan Demeter, MARS Programme Manager, International Methane Emissions Observatory, UNEP. TCA: What does the new MARS data reveal about Central Asia specifically that may surprise readers? Demeter: The latest MARS data products depict the region as one with growing engagement and significant mitigation potential. Responses to MARS notifications are increasing, supported in particular by designated national focal points who play a key role in coordinating follow-up with operators. Based on the published 2025 data alone, the response rate across Central Asia currently stands at 22%. Managing a high volume of alerts requires more effort to achieve very high response rates compared to countries that receive only a handful of notifications. Encouragingly, the region has already recorded nearly 20 mitigation cases, underscoring the strong potential for emissions reductions when large methane sources are identified and addressed. TCA: Why does Central Asia matter in the global methane debate, even if it is not the world’s largest methane-emitting region? Demeter: Across Central Asia, looking at the 2025 data alone, UNEP’s International Methane Emissions Observatory, through the Methane Alert and Response System (MARS), detected and notified 298 emission sources from the oil and gas sector. While satellites detect only a fraction of global methane emissions, satellites are highly effective at identifying so-called “super-emitters,” methane emission events so large they can be detected from space. These represent opportunities where action can deliver the greatest and fastest climate wins, while also catalyzing broader change. Regarding the “top 50” list of emission events, 11 of these sources are located in Central Asia, all from...

Artist Aigerim Karibayeva on How Kazakhstan Is Searching for Its Visual Identity

Kazakh artist Aigerim Karibayeva is part of a new visual wave that seeks to blend traditional culture and contemporary aesthetics. Her distinctive style – bright, airy, almost spring-like imagery infused with ethnic motifs and scenes from everyday life – has moved beyond social media into major exhibition spaces. Her works are currently on display at the Kasteyev State Museum of Arts, where her solo exhibition My Sky Above Me recently opened. In an interview with The Times of Central Asia, she discusses how she coined the term “ethno-modernism,” why ethnic aesthetics is surging in popularity, and how Kazakhstan is searching for its own visual identity. TCA: Aigerim, you describe your work as “ethno-modernism.” How did you arrive at that concept? Aigerim Karibayeva: I started moving in this direction and sharing my work on Instagram several years ago. I quickly found my audience; there was strong interest from the media and many interviews. To talk about my work, I needed a term that would define it, something verbal. But I didn’t want to call it simply “contemporary art,” because that didn’t reflect the essence of what I do. I thought: why not call it “ethno-modernism”? I consulted the well-known art historian Olga Baturina, and she approved. The term immediately caught on. I now see it used in the press, on social media, and even in the profiles of young designers. Today, “ethno-modernism” is used to describe an entire wave of artists and designers, the boom we’ve been seeing over the past five years. TCA: Why do you think ethno-modernism has become so popular now? Aigerim Karibayeva: I think it’s been building for a long time. I’m trained as a graphic designer, so I have a strong visual awareness. I saw how interest in national style and ethnic elements gradually emerged in the country. First, businesses began using it in branding, then advertising picked it up, and eventually it spread into mass culture. Now, ethnic elements combined with modern aesthetics have become a visible part of everyday life. [caption id="attachment_48156" align="aligncenter" width="2000"] From a personal photo archive[/caption] TCA: That was especially noticeable during recent Nauryz celebrations – everyone seemed to be wearing ethnic-inspired clothing. Aigerim Karibayeva: Exactly. Everyone is searching for a new cultural code right now, artists, musicians, filmmakers, craftspeople. At first, you create something within your own circle, among fellow artists, and then it spreads outward. You start seeing and hearing it everywhere, for example, in new interpretations of Kazakh music. You recognize that mix, and it becomes a kind of key. You try to translate that same cultural fusion into your own work. I’ve had people tell me they were inspired by my work. One woman approached me and said that after seeing a traditional headpiece, a taqiya, in my illustration, she was inspired to start making them herself and  launched a successful business. That’s how this wave works, there’s a ripple effect, and everyone picks it up. TCA: There’s clearly strong demand for ethnic aesthetics right now. Aigerim...

Singer MEREY on Kazakh-Language Music, Tradition, and a New Sound

Singer, poet, and lyricist MEREY is among a younger group of artists bringing a different sensibility to music in Kazakhstan. Her work is rooted in Kazakh-language expression, but it also pushes beyond familiar expectations of how a female singer should sound and present herself. In an interview with The Times of Central Asia, MEREY discusses the influence of poetry on her lyrics, the reaction to experimentation, and what she believes is missing from Kazakhstan’s contemporary music scene. TCA: Tell us a little about yourself. How did you get into music? MEREY: I came to music at 17, that’s when I wrote my first song in English. Before that, for as long as I can remember, I had been writing poetry; it was my first form of self-expression. During my school years, I also studied music more formally. I played in a national orchestra, where I both sang and performed dombra parts. That experience strongly shaped my sense of stage presence and musical language. Today, I position myself as a poet, singer, and lyricist. For me, text and music are inseparable. TCA: Who or what influenced your artistic development the most? MEREY: Since school, I have read the works of Mukaghali Makatayev, a classic of Kazakh poetry known for lyrical verses about love, homeland, and the human experience, and Fariza Ongarsynova, a prominent poet who wrote about emotions, time, and women’s lives. They left a deep mark on me as a poet, and echoes of their style can be found in my lyrics. As a teenager, I listened to Billie Eilish, Lana Del Rey, and The Neighbourhood. Later, Mitski, Zemfira, Valentin Strykalo, and Børns. Now I feel close to what Chappell Roan and Meg Myers are doing. My taste leans toward alternative music with an emphasis on vocals, lyrics, and guitar riffs, with a slightly detached aesthetic. This directly informs my own music. TCA: Your music is often described as a blend of traditional elements and modern electronics. How did this sound take shape? MEREY: I wouldn’t fully agree with the phrasing about electronics, but my sound is in many ways inspired by Darkhan Juzz. He was the first artist from Kazakhstan who truly impressed me with his sound. I come from a Kazakh-speaking background, so my lyrics tend to be more literary rather than conversational, unlike many artists of the new school. That’s thanks to my parents and my education in a Kazakh-language school. The modern side comes from my musical tastes, especially the Western scene. My sound combines a Western sensibility with precise, expressive Kazakh language. It’s a mix of Western thinking and Kazakh tradition and that is exactly what resonates with listeners. TCA: How important is it for you to preserve cultural roots in contemporary music? MEREY: It is fundamentally important. As I grow older, I become more conscious, and even stricter, about the Kazakh language and tradition. I’m glad that today national elements, ornaments, traditional clothing, interest in Tengriism, and the language itself, are once again becoming part of the cultural...

Ukrainian Ambassador to Kazakhstan: From Chornobyl to Zaporizhzhia – Lessons Humanity Risks Forgetting

April 26 marks a date that changed the course of world history. This year marks the 40th anniversary of the Chornobyl nuclear disaster, one of the world’s worst nuclear accidents, the consequences of which are still felt today. In an interview with The Times of Central Asia, Ukraine’s Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary to Kazakhstan, Victor Mayko, spoke about the scale of the tragedy and emerging threats to nuclear safety. TCA: Forty years have passed. Why does Chornobyl remain a relevant issue today? Ambassador Mayko: Because it is not a story that has ended. It is an ongoing process, the consequences of which continue to unfold. Chornobyl is not only the explosion of a reactor; it is the long-term impact on people, nature, and the economy. In terms of scale, it is, without exaggeration, the largest manmade disaster in human history. TCA: What exactly defines that scale? Ambassador Mayko: First and foremost, the territory. Around 150,000 square kilometers were contaminated. The most dangerous area is the 10-kilometer zone. Isotopes were recorded there that had not previously been observed; they were formed as a result of processes during the explosion. According to estimates, this territory will only become suitable for habitation in about 20,000 years, once the decay of radioactive isotopes reaches safe levels. These were fertile lands, chernozem soils suitable for agriculture. Today, the area is a protected zone, essentially a vast natural reserve where wild animals live. But this is a forced outcome. TCA: As far as we know, you were personally a liquidator. What did you witness? Ambassador Mayko: I was sent there through mobilization. I spent almost a month at the plant, in two rotations. I saw people working on the reactor roof, clearing debris and removing radioactive materials. These were difficult, frightening scenes. People went there understanding the risk, but not always fully realizing its scale. TCA: How many people were affected? Ambassador Mayko: We still don’t know the exact figures. The Soviet system concealed information. I believe the immediate death toll was at least 10,000. But if we include those who later died from radiation-related illnesses, thyroid cancer, stomach cancer, and others, the number rises into the hundreds of thousands. In total, around 600,000 people took part in the cleanup. That is an enormous figure. TCA: Why was information about the accident concealed for so long? Ambassador Mayko: Because the system was built that way. Until the radioactive cloud moved beyond the borders of the USSR, there was silence. Only when elevated radiation levels were detected in Sweden, Finland, and the United Kingdom did international inquiries begin. Then the Soviet Union was forced to acknowledge the accident. TCA: How did this affect people in the first days? Ambassador Mayko: People continued living their normal lives. On May 1, there was a public demonstration. I was there myself with my family, with a small child. No one warned us about the danger. Many felt throat irritation and coughing, but didn’t understand the cause. If people had been...