A new website seeks to document and shame the Central Asian nation's appalling car parking habits.
Я паркуюсь как осел
Unfortunately, there is no World Bank or International Monetary Fund study on comparative parking practices across nations, no ranking of the world's countries by the politeness and orderliness of their drivers' habits. But, if there were, you might expect Kazakhstan to rank near the bottom, based on the popular Kazakh website, "I Parked Like an Ass."
The story of "I Parked Like an Ass," known in the original Russian as "Я паркуюсь как осел", begins with a disgruntled driver in the city of Almaty named Roman Slegin. Radio Free Europe reports that Slegin started his website so that regular Kazakhs could publicly document, and thus shame, the atrocious parking habits that he says are common in his country. Users are encouraged to photograph any bad parking they happen upon and then upload their shots to the site.
Slegin's site, which has three staffers, has become so popular that Almaty police have offered to verify the photos and "bring charges against persistent offenders," according to Radio Free Europe, which also notes there are similar citizen-meter-maid sites in the U.S., Lebanon, and the U.K.
None of them comes close to the sheer insanity of Kazakhstan's parking habits, as documented. The people in these photos park like they're fleeing the zombie apocalypse. Putting your front wheel a few feet deep on the sidewalk -- or your entire car, for that matter -- seems widespread. So does parking, perpendicular to traffic, in the middle of an active lane. The people who make it into an actual space seem to consider three the magic number.
Here is just a sample of the 1,500-plus photos on the site (my very favorite, of a stretch hummer parked across traffic, is at the bottom), and below that some thoughts on why it would be so.
If you're still with me, you're probably wondering, as I am, what could make people think it's OK to park like this, and with such apparent frequency. Of course, individual photos are just anecdotes, not evidence of a trend. Still, there are over 1,500 of these shots, which is a lot for a nation of an estimated 2.7 million passenger cars (16.5 million people with a passenger car ownership rate of 0.167 per capita). And Clegin's site seems to have taken off in part because of how outraged many Kazakhs are by their compatriots' parking habits. So, with the big caveat that this is just anecdata and not a hard fact, what might explain it?
A few recent trends that have changed Kazakhstan as a whole -- rapid development from a poor country to middle-income, newfound global integration that's brought better access to cars, and urbanization -- could all conceivably contribute to the odd parking habits. The country, once a rural Soviet backwater, has become a bit of an economic success story. The skyrocketing GDP and fast-developing economy have led many Kazakhs out of the vast and sparsely populated countryside -- where parking anywhere and any way you please would be less deleterious to traffic -- and into the rapidly growing cities.
Put another way, there are a lot of cars and city-dwellers in a society that didn't have many of either only a generation ago, meaning that the idea of city parking itself is kind of new, and the practices that we consider normal might not have had an opportunity to develop.
There's another potential factor: oil and gas wealth. Last year, we looked at the notoriously dangerous roads of Dubai and Abu Dhabi, where oil subsidies (1) make it easier for people to buy cars; (2) imbue that car with less perceived value, because its owner didn't have to spend as much of their own money on it; (3) can sometimes give people what one Emirates resident called an "above-the-law attitude." This last point refers to a complicated effect of what scholars call a "rentier state," or a country that sells innate resources such as oil and then gives some profits directly to citizens, sometimes warping those citizens' perceptions of the state's basic responsibilities in a way that can denigrate respect for rule-of-law. Kazakhstan has plenty of oil and gas, the profits of which go to, among other things, the fancy German luxury cars you see parked across Almaty sidewalks above.
Whatever the reason, however it came to pass, parking like a barbarian raider appears to be somewhat more accepted in Kazakhstan than in other places. Roman Slegin and the people who use his site appear to be trying to change those norms. If Almaty and other Kazakh cities continue growing, it will be in everyone's interests that they succeed.
Donald Trump will take the oath of office on Friday, becoming the 45th president of the United States.
Donald Trump takes the oath of office on Friday, to become the 45th president of the United States.
The day’s inaugural festivities will get underway in the morning and continue through Saturday. The swearing-in ceremony, which will take place outside of the Capitol, is expected to begin at 11:30 a.m., followed by an inaugural parade at 3 p.m. and inaugural balls in the evening.
Thousands of attendees are expected to descend on Washington, DC for the ceremonies, which will likely be met with celebration and protest. We’ll bring you the latest updates from the nation’s capital as events unfold. Also see our continuing coverage:
Commentators love to praise the peaceful handover of power—but this year, it stands as a reminder of the system’s fragility and shortcomings.
Every presidency is different, but inaugural coverage is always the same. Commentators congratulate Americans on the peaceful transition of power and intone solemn sentences about democratic renewal.
There is something unnerving about these reassurances, something overstated, even hysterical. When a British prime minister loses the confidence of the House of Commons and must suddenly trundle out of 10 Downing Street (as some six dozen of them have done since the job was invented in the 1740s; a few more than once), nobody marvels on television how wonderful it is that he or she doesn’t try to retain power by force of arms. Nobody in Denmark thinks it extraordinary when one party relinquishes power to another. Ditto New Zealand or Switzerland—all of them treat peaceful transfers of power as the developed world norm, like reliable electricity or potable water.
He’s moved to establish his dominance of his party, of Congress, and of the media. Now, he turns to the nation.
Even for some Republicans, it is still a bit unbelievable. They have it all now—all the power. They won it fair and square. Donald Trump is assuming the presidency, and Republicans control the House and Senate.
They streamed into Washington this week to collect their reward, the activists and party hacks and true believers who helped make it happen. The members of the Republican National Committee, representing every state and territory, gathered in the ornate, slightly dowdy ballrooms of Washington’s Omni Shoreham hotel, where they took care of the party’s business between being feted at lunches, receptions, and inaugural balls. The mood was jubilant: Against all odds, after years of frustration, everything they worked for had come to pass.
A history of the first African American White House—and of what came next
In the waning days of President Barack Obama’s administration, he and his wife, Michelle, hosted a farewell party, the full import of which no one could then grasp. It was late October, Friday the 21st, and the president had spent many of the previous weeks, as he would spend the two subsequent weeks, campaigning for the Democratic presidential nominee, Hillary Clinton. Things were looking up. Polls in the crucial states of Virginia and Pennsylvania showed Clinton with solid advantages. The formidable GOP strongholds of Georgia and Texas were said to be under threat. The moment seemed to buoy Obama. He had been light on his feet in these last few weeks, cracking jokes at the expense of Republican opponents and laughing off hecklers. At a rally in Orlando on October 28, he greeted a student who would be introducing him by dancing toward her and then noting that the song playing over the loudspeakers—the Gap Band’s “Outstanding”—was older than she was.
The president-elect filled out his Cabinet on Thursday by nominating former Georgia Governor Sonny Perdue for agriculture secretary.
Updated on January 19, 2017
A day before his inauguration, President-elect Donald Trump has filled out his Cabinet.
Trump on Thursday morning announced the nomination of former Georgia Governor Sonny Perdue as secretary of agriculture, completing a search that took the duration of his presidential transition.
Perdue, who served as governor from 2003 to 2011, grew up on a farm in Georgia and earned a doctorate in veterinary medicine. “Sonny Perdue is going to accomplish great things as Secretary of Agriculture,” Trump said in a statement. “From growing up on a farm to being governor of a big agriculture state, he has spent his whole life understanding and solving the challenges our farmers face, and he is going to deliver big results for all Americans who earn their living off the land.”
Many Americans who support the incoming president feel hopeful about the future. But even some who plan to attend his inauguration are wary about what he’ll do.
Joseph Richardson believes Donald Trump is already working to turn his campaign promises into a reality. “He started talking to companies about keeping jobs in the U.S. even before taking office, and when it comes to business I think people do listen because he’s very successful,” the 23-year-old Trump voter from Delaware said in a recent interview. High hopes for the incoming administration, though, haven’t necessarily translated into fuzzy feelings toward Trump himself. “At the same time, he’s kind of a jackass,” he added.
When Trump takes over the presidency on Friday, he will face a deeply divided nation, and may be on track for historically low approval ratings in office. Many Hillary Clinton voters, shocked and devastated by the outcome of the election, remain unwilling to rally around Trump. But the way his supporters feel about the future, and the candidate they elected to the presidency, may be more nuanced—and, in some cases, more surprising.
On the meaning and implications of the country’s first true businessman president
Among the more arid and promiscuous expressions in the English language is saying that someone is “in business.” The pawnbroker, the accounts executive at CBS, and the risk arbitrageur are all nominally engaged “in business,” but that fact probably does more to obscure the differences in their daily affairs than to reveal any fundamental similarities.
Donald J. Trump has certainly been “in business” for the better part of 50 years. And while his electoral success has made him a global face for American capitalism, the fact that he’s the first businessman to vault from the C-Suite straight to the presidency says little about what the country might expect from the next four years—or at least not nearly as much as many tend to think.
Recent presidential installation ceremonies have been studiously planned and free of major disasters. It hasn’t always been so.
With malice toward none. The only thing we have to fear. Ask what you can do for your country.
Presidential inaugurations will, at their best, inspire their audiences—not just in their respective moments, but for decades and centuries to come. But presidential inaugurations are also run by people, which means that, sometimes, they will go extremely wrong. Sometimes, it will be protests that will mar the best-planned ceremonies. Sometimes, it will be human pettiness (as when President Hoover, riding with Franklin Roosevelt in the motorcade to the Capitol in 1932, seems to have ignored Roosevelt’s attempts at conversations, instead staring stone-faced into the distance). Sometimes, however, inaugural exercises will encounter disasters of a more epic strain: storms, illness, death, extremely pungent cheese.
Curfews, sports, and understanding kids’ brain chemistry have all helped dramatically curb substance abuse in the country.
It’s a little before 3 p.m. on a sunny Friday afternoon and Laugardalur Park, near central Reykjavik, looks practically deserted. There’s an occasional adult with a stroller, but the park’s surrounded by apartment blocks and houses, and school’s out—so where are all the kids?
Walking with me are Gudberg Jónsson, a local psychologist, and Harvey Milkman, an American psychology professor who teaches for part of the year at Reykjavik University. Twenty years ago, says Gudberg, Icelandic teens were among the heaviest-drinking youths in Europe. “You couldn’t walk the streets in downtown Reykjavik on a Friday night because it felt unsafe,” adds Milkman. “There were hordes of teenagers getting in-your-face drunk.”