By Warren Brown
Sunday, November 12, 2006

ALMATY, Kazakhstan

"Alma" means apple in the Kazakh language. That being the case, it's fair to call this city Kazakhstan's "big apple."

With 1.2 million people, it is the largest urban area in the nation. But its population is only a fraction of that of America's "big apple," New York City.

Nonetheless, when it comes to automobile traffic, this big apple has a much bigger problem than does New York City.

That problem in Almaty, the country's former capital, is three-fold, beginning with tailpipe pollution.

After only a day here, I developed one of the worst headaches I've had in years. Had it not been for a huge packet of painkillers I carried with me, I think I would've been rendered completely immobile.

I complained to a hostess at the Intercontinental Hotel. She smiled and suggested that it was "the air." But in time, she said, I'd get used to it.

I didn't stay long enough in Almaty to determine the accuracy of her assessment. But it was clear -- and I use the term "clear" advisedly -- that my headache stemmed from the clouds of untreated tailpipe emissions billowing from the aging Lada, Moskvich and Fiat cars plowing Almaty's roadways.

I do not say this to give credence to Sacha Baron Cohen's "Borat" movie, which is all the rage in the United States but is viewed with opprobrium here. I join the Kazakh people in their repudiation of the "Borat" film, which is as repugnantly stereotypical to them as America's "Amos 'n Andy" was to me.

But there is no ignoring the problem with tailpipe pollution in this city. Many of the older cars seem held together with baling wire. If they have emissions-control systems, they aren't working. By noon, the city is enveloped in a translucent haze. Local environmental officials estimate that 70 percent of Almaty's air pollution comes from the tailpipes of poorly maintained cars -- a situation further aggravated by dirty fuel, or by gasoline and diesel that have been chemically altered to increase fuel volume and profit.

The flip-side is that, thanks to Kazakhstan's huge supply of oil, gas and mineral resources, the city is getting richer, though that wealth is not reflected in Kazakhstan's steppes and in other outlying areas, where poverty rules the day.

But in Almaty, the new money is reflected in a surge of high-end automobiles and sport-utility vehicles, such as BMW 5-Series and 7-Series cars, huge Mercedes-Benz S-Class sedans, and Land Rover Range Rover models, which almost always seem to be painted black with deeply tinted windows -- front and rear.

Exotic cars, such as Lamborghini and Ferrari, increasingly are becoming noticeable. From a car lover's viewpoint, that is a good thing. The newer cars have advanced emissions controls. They are safer, more reliable.

But the good news stops there -- literally.

A not-so-funny thing happens when you mix a huge number of decrepit automobiles with an equally large number of newer cars. Nothing moves, usually because someone crashes into someone else, thereby strangling already congested traffic.

There were so many vehicle crashes in and around Almaty -- including a two-person fatality -- during the four days I spent in the region, I stopped counting them.

So with rampant tailpipe emissions and an unhealthy mix of barely mobile and high-performance vehicles, we come to Almaty traffic problem No. 3, which is that there appears to be no rule of law covering the roads in the city or in its outlying areas. For example, consider the act of passing on a highway of two opposing lanes. Everything goes. Drivers at the bottom of a hill seem to have no qualms about making an uphill pass, not knowing if a car or truck is about to crest the apex and wipe them out.

There is passing around blind curves. The driver of a limp-along Lada seems to have no second thoughts about trying to overtake a huge truck or a faster Russian Zil. Zoom, zoom, crash!

In the city, marked lanes and traffic signals are mere suggestions. A solid highway line means "pass" if there's the slightest chance you'll make it. A broken highway lane means you'd better pass, pull over, or get smashed from the rear. A left turn is a left turn only if there is no possible way, often at the last minute, to make a right turn. A yellow light means go. A green light means go faster. A red light means "Stop" if you have the brakes to do so.

It's sheer madness. And it's something, all of it -- tailpipe pollution, vehicle safety and poorly observed rules of the road -- that the people of Almaty will have to do something about if they really want to become a first-class tourist attraction.

I think they can do it. There is a lot of pride, ingenuity and ambition here. There is a willingness to gamble for a better tomorrow. In that regard, when it comes to the innate character of the Kazakh people, Sacha Baron Cohen doesn't know what he's talking about.