Okay. It’s been a while since I posted anything and I just realized that’s because I’ve been doing this all wrong.

I’m trying to write long, informative pieces about life here. That’s a mistake. That sort of writing, of which I am more than capable, is really really hard. Like, really hard and I am really lazy.

Such long posts are also imperiled by the state of the world. Here’s an example: I was well into writing a long and interesting post about Kazakhstan’s recent referendum on building a nuclear power plant. I included some thoughts on Kazakhstan’s nuclear history, as well as the popular movement to close the Soviet nuclear test site here as well as how Kazakhstan gave up the nuclear weapons it inherited after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. I talked about how Elizabeth and I were observers on referendum day, visiting eight different polling sites across Astana and talking to the poll workers. It was really interesting. Then there was an election in the US and I really didn’t have any interest in finishing writing a post about voting, or elections, or democracy. See what I mean?

So anyway, this is what I’m going to do moving forward: I’m going to write shorter posts that are more like journal entries. There probably won’t be a lot of links. Sorry. I think these new, shorter posts (which will actually get posted) are going to be informative and entertaining and they will actually get posted, so that’s a plus.

Here’s an example of what to expect. It’s cold here. Right now it’s -12°C, -21°C with the wind chill. I don’t know what that is in Fahrenheit any more than you do, I just know it’s cold. I also know that -40°C and -40°F are the same temperature. Anyway, it’s very cold and that means wearing a very warm coat. Mine is basically a sleeping bag with arms. But here’s the thing: Astana has district heating for the whole city. This means that heat is free and thus all the buildings are very warm. Very warm. Particularly the public areas, like the lobbies and hallways of apartment buildings.

So picture this: I am walking back from somewhere in my sleeping bag coat. I come to the door of our building. I immediately remove my hat and scarf and unzip my coat. Not doing this puts one at risk of dehydration before even getting to the elevator. We live on the first residential floor (three stories up), so the elevator ride is short enough that, while no further heat-dumping is necessary, it is imperative that I have my keys in my hand.

Once on our floor, the real danger begins. Even with no hat or scarf and the coat unzipped, one can spend no more than 30 seconds in the hallway before the signs of heat-related illnesses set in. This means moving as quickly as possible to our apartment door. I must never run—that will generate more heat. I move purposefully to the door. Opening the door requires a key and a code. As I move the key, already in my hand, to the lock, I already feel my forehead getting warm and droplets of sweat starting to form. I move slowly, deliberately, moving too fast puts me at risk of dropping the keys and disaster. I get the key to the lock, turn it twice, the deadbolt is unlocked. Now the code. First I touch the keypad. I wait for it to light up but do nothing until I hear the first beep. Entering the code too early will give me an error code and force me to start over. Do I feel sweat trickling down my back? I think I might. The beep! I am free to enter the code. I hear the lock open and I am in the apartment, but it is too late. By the time I get my coat off, I look like I have just run 10 miles in a rainstorm. In August. In Washington DC. I stuff my coat into the nearest closet and go change my clothes. This can happen several times a day.