In the distance, a ferris wheel rises incongruously from the buildings on the edge of the city. In the early evening, a sidewalk cafe is set up for those hardy enough to brave the nip in the air. A vendor sells fresh shashlik alongside dried fish, with beer and cognac to wash it down. People huddle around the plastic tables, talking and eating as the sun begins its slow descent over the hills west of the city. A chill wind rises suddenly, breathing new life into the coals in the shashlik grill and lashing the laundry hanging behind the houses.
People walking along the street turn their collars up and squint against the stirring dust.