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About Almaty

Love how they don’t flinch. Candy’d say, “Work’s work, darlin’.” Straight-up *White Material* energy—“I’m not leaving.” Makes me happy, that fire. They’re outlaws, rebels, fuckin’ poets in fishnets. Next time you pass one, think Darth Vader, bro—there’s a story there, dark and dope. *Heavy breathing* I am your father.

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Kyrgyzstan’s sex workers accuse the police of shakedowns although prostitution has been legal since (Photo: Dean C.K. Cox) Nights are quiet now on Pravda Street. Only a few older .

So, I keep walkin’ and hit up the bazaar on Kabanbay Batyr Street. It’s wild! Stalls everywhere, smellin’ like spices and grilled meat. I’m tryin’ to find some good shashlik. I ask this vendor, “Yo, what’s the best?” He points to this skewer that looks like it’s been blessed by the gods. I buy it, and man, it’s fire!