"Dan janganlah engkau berjalan di bumi dengan berlagak sombong, kerana sesungguhnya engkau tidak akan dapat menembusi bumi dan engkau tidak akan dapat menyamai setinggi gunung-ganang."
Monday, November 22, 2010
One of the areas in the capital of Kazakhstan Alma Ata looks like one large container town, in which all the gates are wide open, porters with bales and boxes move to and fro, and people live in special sheds.
The containers are situated around big flea market, street vendors rent them and store the goods inside.
Business is in full swing.
This woman came to pick up the goods.
This lad is a college of law graduate. He says that there was no work for him and he came here. Started working as a loading workman, then began to sell various goods. He has benn working for 5 years already. In winter he sells fur coats, in summer – sunglasses.
This one specializes in beads and books on Islam.
This man works as a driver. He does not earn much, but thanks Allah of what he has.
The boxes are loaded into the car, then the goods will go to the railway stations and from there all over Kazakhstan.
Price for one “trip” depends on distance, size and weight of the goods.
One load is usually accompanied by several people: porters, drivers and loading workmen. Drivers earn the most.
On the boxes the name of the seller or the receiver is written for the box not to get lost among the mass of others.
“We are not loaders, we are porters!” – take offence the lads.
All these porters, loaders and drivers live here, close to the flea market. Local enterpreneurs have built special barracks for them and gather high rental.
However the district consists not only of containers. There are also ordinary houses in which native citizens live. What unites all these people is that the work of all of them concerns the local flea market.
There is no sewer system in the area and all the wastes flow down the ditches.
These little boys have holidays at school and help their parents to dig a pit for the house toilet.
These are also on holidays and gather empty shoe boxes to stoke the bath with.
At 5 p.m. the market closes and vendors carry their things to the storehouse.
The next day, at about 8 in the morning this gate will swing open again.
In the evening local old men gather to play cards by the hot stove.
Delicious hot cakes.
After work driver Ramzan comes home. It is hard to call “home”, though, “but it’s warm inside and it’s all right”, – says the man.
One of the roommates prepares a salad for supper.
The more, the merrier.
The market is seasonal work. These people say that where they live everything is different, there are bigger houses and one cares for cleanness.