ASTANA, Kazakhstan I was the only visitor in Greece. As I walked through the tunnel of philosophers, eager young Kazakhs accosted me. This is the Greek alphabet! It has 24 characters, and it was the original language of science. Here, please, come and take a photo by the sea. They hustled me over to a Mediterranean backdrop. They outnumbered me five to one, I succumbed to relentless explanation.
It was a sunny afternoon on the second day of EXPO 2017, held on the outskirts of Astana, the capital of Kazakhstan. The Expo boasts of being the Olympics of economy, business, and culture, a global event where each participating country showcases its national achievements in its own pavilion and crowds come to see pieces of the wider world. But today at the first Expo ever held in a post-Soviet state there werent any crowds.
The Expo was being held on the outskirts of Astana, near one of the citys many construction sites, in a purpose-built park. Dubbed a future city but looking more like a vast conference center, the organizers claimed the site was self-powered, fueled by a mix of wind and water. Each pavilion takes up anywhere from one room to several floors in a giant ring of new buildings built to encircle a great sphere of black glass at the center, the Kazakhstan pavilion. Viewed from the west, the dome loomed over neighboring apartment buildings. Theres two big ways to piss off the Kazakhs, a delegate commented, Mention Borat, or call the dome the Death Star.
The obvious lack of attendees, by contrast, didnt require mentioning. Greece wasnt the only deserted pavilion. Many were barren of anyone except staff. A few of the big names China, Germany, the United States had clusters of a couple of dozen visitors at a time, but outside most nations I snaked my way through empty rail guards. On the avenues outside, two out of every three people were wearing lanyards. I eavesdropped on a conversation between two European delegates: We have to plan for the worst-case scenario if there are no visitors to our event.
For years, the Kazakh organizers had been quietly ramping down the tallies of expected attendees at the three-month event; 5 million, 3 million, now 2 million. On opening day, the official figure was 10,000 visitors, and even that was a generous rounding-up. The next day, the crowds were even barer. In the Chinese pavilion, a CGI video showed a fly-through of busy Expo grounds; outside the street was empty save for a janitor having a smoke. Come dinner time, the empty plastic tables and giant windows of the second floor of the food court gave it the air of a provincial airport at 2 am.
At the last Expo I attended, in 2010 in Shanghai, the streets had been jam-packed; the event saw 73 million visitors. The last specialized Expo the generally smaller events, like this one, held in between the quinquennial world Expos was hosted by the coastal Korean city of Yeosu in 2012 and drew 8 million. Officially, Astana had sold 670,000 tickets but there were serious doubts about how real many of those sales were. There were few doubts, by contrast, about the events $3 billion to $5 billion price tag.
There was also almost no effort to draw visitors from outside Kazakhstan. A desultory marketing campaign in Russia had looped in a handful of guests, but in Kazakhstans other neighbors, there was almost nothing. Air Astana promised free Expo tickets to anybody flying in; at both Almaty and Astana airports the machines issuing them were broken. I found a pair of lost Chinese tourists looking over a map in an Astana park (I think were here, look, heres the big glass pyramid.) One of them, Mr. Tan, turned out to live a few miles from me in Beijing. A retired Communist Party official, he was an Expo enthusiast. I loved Shanghai! he said, delighted at the memory. It had a little bit of so many countries! So I was so happy when I saw there was another Expo near China this year! But they were the only ones. Being a host is wonderful, but it helps to invite guests.
On top of that, there was a palpable resentment toward the Expo from many Kazakhs. Plenty of people were proud of it We have been preparing for this for four years! Even little children know what the Expo is! said Nikolai German, a Russian-Kazakh shop owner. But Kazakh social media was lit up with complaints about being forced to buy tickets, about pension funds being divested toward Expo funding, about the absurdity of spending billions on a vanity project when half the country still shits in a hole in the ground.
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Give me another hour in the ballpit if old.