If it weren’t for the giant dam, there never could have been a world-class speedskating complex-and maybe not even a modern downtown.
So this story, which local officials hope will end in Olympic fanfare and glory, must begin with the mud up in the mountains.
Year after year, come the spring thaw, the mud would start oozing down the steep slopes of the Zailiskoye Alitau Mountains. Too often, killer landslides resulted, with huge, craggy boulders and uprooted trees wreaking destruction on parts of this helpless Central Asian city.
Then an amazing earthen dam was built. Powerful explosions blew the tops off two looming mountains, hurling debris into the yawning gap between the twin peaks and thus jamming up the deadly funnel through which mudslides had roared down on Almaty.
In 1973, just after the new dam was completed, the worst mudslide in memory came slamming down the mountainsides. Vladislav Kukharski wasn’t alone in thinking that nature, outraged at this audacious human tinkering, had decided to put the manmade structure to the test.
“Mud kept building up behind the dam, and everybody held their breath,” Kukharski recalled. “People waited to see if the dam would give way, or if the rumbling mud would come spilling over the top. In the end, the dam held, and we haven’t worried about mudslides ever since.”
Is it any wonder then, with this kind of triumph to inspire them, that local leaders have the audacity to dream of hosting the winter Olympic Games in 2002?
“Most people in the world may never have heard of us, but we have one of the top speedskating facilities, where world-class competitions have been held and world records have been set,” said Kukharski, a member of Kazakhstan’s Olympic committee.
The speedskating complex, called Medeo, was built just below the famous dam. Further up in the mountains, in Chimbulok, is the skiing center where downhill events would be if Almaty beats the odds and gets the 2002 Games.
Before Kazakhstan’s official delegation left for this year’s Winter Games in Lillehammer, Norway, Kukharski conceded that officials here had doubts about their ability to stage the sports spectacle on the level the world has come to expect.
“Our delegation will get a chance to see how Almaty compares to Lillehammer-and if we can pull it off,” he explained. “Maybe they’ll decide to drop out of the competition.” More than 30 cities have expressed interest in playing host to the 2002 games.
Later, after giving Lillehammer a careful look-and cheering Kazakhstan’s Vladimir Smirnov on to gold and silver medals in cross-country skiing-Almaty’s mayor, Viktor Khrapunov, had made up his mind.
“I’m more sure than ever that Almaty could meet the challenge-and meet it with distinction,” Khrapunov said in a telephone interview from Lillehammer. “We’re going ahead with our application. We could give the world a wonderful Olympics.”
Representatives of the International Olympic Committee will visit Almaty soon. If they share Mayor Khrapunov’s enthusiasm, Kazakhstan’s capital could be included among the handful of cities designated as finalists.
The winnowing could take place as early as March 24, when the IOC has its next full session.
Kazakhstan, which became an independent nation two years ago upon the collapse of the Soviet Union, hopes to use the Olympics as a sort of coming-out party, a downhill and double-axel debutantes’ ball, to establish its credentials as a major player on the world scene.
Kazakhstan has won favor with Western leaders by promising to remove all Soviet nuclear weapons from its sprawling territory. Its breathtaking deposits of oil, gold and other natural resources have riveted the attention of Western businessmen.
And President Nursultan Nazarbayev is regarded widely as the most responsible, successful and charming leader of a Soviet successor state.
Despite crippling economic problems, including soaring inflation, Khrapunov insisted that paying for the games won’t be a problem.
“President Nazarbayev told me to assure the International Olympic Committee that we can afford to do everything necessary to make these games a great success,” he said. “We don’t know yet what the total cost would be, but whatever it is, we’re prepared to pay it.”
Much of the money would come from the new Tengiz and Korolev oil fields in northwest Kazakhstan, which Nazarbayev says are expected to pump some $80 billion into government coffers over the next four decades. But private businesses are also ready to chip in, according to Khrapunov.
All that money will come in handy, because it would take a lot of work to turn Almaty into the kind of Olympic venue where Westerners will feel comfortable.
Almaty was founded by Russian Cossacks in 1854, and while the center of the city is adorned with big, stately buildings from the Brezhnev era, some areas on the outskirts look like they could have been there when the first Russian horsemen rode in.
At present, there are barely enough good hotel rooms to accommodate all the foreign business people pouring into Almaty hoping to strike it rich.
At the 26-story Hotel Kazakhstan, a few floors have been poshed up admirably to 1990s’ standards. But most remain mired in the paint-peeling, toilet-leaking, roach-crawling communist past.
“We know we have a problem with hotel rooms,” Khrapunov said. “But two five-star hotels are already under construction by Austrian and Turkish companies. Plans for a 1,000-room hotel are under discussion with Chinese builders.
“And Italian and French companies want to build combined residential and sports complexes. Then there are several less elaborate, three-star hotels being built. So I’m confident we’ll have more than enough rooms by 2002.”
Even Medeo, the centerpiece of Almaty’s Olympic dream, will need a major refurbishing. The ice may be first-rate, and the thin mountain air may encourage fast times, but the dressing rooms, showers and other personal facilities would give even the toughest athletes the heeby-jeebies.
With most of Kazakhstan covered by prairie-like steppe or sandy desert, the mayor noted, Almaty would not be able to duplicate Lillehammer’s picturesque Olympic village full of Nordic-style wooden houses.
“But we’ll build a wonderful Olympic village for the athletes out of cement,” he promised. “Plus, we have one big advantage over Lillehammer. Our winter weather is a lot less severe.”
And after three decades, the dam is still holding. Let’s drink to that. Here’s mud in your eye.
