Postworthy

An exchange about my home town, which used to be called the Father of Apples.
  July 6, 2002

An exchange about my home town rescued from my comments box:

[…] in alma-ata, we visited a young pioneers summer camp, and after they performed a traditional dance for us, they demanded some kind of performance from our group. that’s when my group leaders made me stand up and sing. i sang “somewhere over the rainbow”. it was well-received.

and then they begged us for levi’s. :)

Posted by portia at July 5, 2002 11:41 PM

It’s cool that you call it Alma-Ata; I like the old name and miss it.  It means “father of apples,” and the apples are wonderful there (I hope you tried some).  Almaty, on the other hand, doesn’t mean much—"appley” maybe, and that’s not even a word.

I have a t-shirt I bummed from an American friend back in 1992.  That was a time when Americans were aliens from a different planet and you acquired bragging rights if you touched one.  The shirt is full of holes now but I still like it.  It hangs in my closet and gathers dust; a photo album and an old bong keep it company.

They don’t beg for Levi’s in Alma-Ata anymore.  Instead, my kid sister insists that I replace her lost cell phone.  I suppose that’s progress...

Posted by A. at July 5, 2002 11:52 PM

< | Facts Archive | >