I Love Kazakhstan

I love Kazakhstan.

Those are three words I never thought I would write.

I’m Canadian. I’ve never been to Kazakhstan. And I’m not likely to go.

The former Soviet country is not considered to be a tourist destination. It’s known more for its poor human rights record and for Sasha Baron Cohen’s parody of a Kazakh television host, Borat.

So why do I have a new found crush on this Central Asian nation?

Last Monday night I was in the ExCel Arena in London to watch Olympic boxing. It was an evening of preliminary bouts for the men’s 52 kg. and 81 kg. weight divisions.

As I climbed into the stands and took my seat, I noticed that the 50 people surrounding me were wearing pale blue and yellow shirts.

Many held either little flags or those plastic clapping sticks in their hands. And no sooner did I sit down when the chanting started.

“Ka-Zakh-Stan. Ka-Zakh-Stan. Ka-Zakh-Stan.”

The bout between Kazakhstan’s Ilyas Suleimenov and his Swedish opponent was near the bottom of the fight card but the crowd behind me was already chanting and rhythmically stamping their feet.

I looked around the arena. There were small groups of fans from various countries. But there were no fans as happy – and as vocal – as the ones in my section.

Their enthusiasm was contagious.

At one point a Kazakh fan handed me a small flag to wave.

So I did.

I joined in with their chant.

I waved their flag. And when the Kazakh fighter finally entered the Olympic arena, I jumped to my feet and cheered with the rest of my new friends.

The bout was one of the best of the night. And when the referee lifted up Suleimenov’s arm to announce him as the winner, the Kazakhs hugged and high fived each other – and me.

It was one of the best nights I’ve ever spent watching a live sporting event.

At the end of the night, I packed up my Kazakh flag into my bag and headed to the Underground station to make my way home. As I made my way through the crowds of tired fans in Bank St. station, a man walking towards me stopped dead.

His eyes lit up and with a huge grin on his face, he pointed at the blue and yellow flag poking out of the top of my bag.

And then he threw his hands up over his head and shouted.

“Kazakhstan!”

I smiled right back.

And then in my loudest, proudest, most patriotic voice, I shouted back to him …

“Kazakhstan!”

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