I take first class on the Karaganda-Astana electrichka. The price difference was minimal so it does not surprise me that the wagon is quite full. Judging from the look and behavior of the passengers most of them could be people returning to work in Astana after having spent the weekend in Karaganda. Maybe they have families there. In the seat in front of me a tired looking stout man with a mustache tries in vain to make himself comfortable with a worried look on his face. At the first stop the last remaining seat is taken by an authoritative bishop or priest with an intelligent look on his face. He looks very familiar, I wonder if he is a certain bishop I met almost ten years ago. But they tend to look alike, orthodox clergy with beards and long hair wearing their black frocks with a golden cross dangling on their breast. Probably I should be able to understand his rank from some of what he is wearing. When he takes up his carefully marked iPad, which he studies closely the whole way, I see that he is just on of those Karaganda priests.

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