Aqqu Café’s Second Life: Memory of Almaty’s Intelligentsia

“For us, this place was sacred and intimate, filled with a natural beauty that always brought calm,” says Magira Dauletbekovna.

“After graduating from Kirov KazGU in 1969, I immediately began working at the popular newspaper Leninshil Zhas(now Zhas Alash). That newspaper was something special to me, like a ray of light in a dark world. It was for this publication that I wrote my first portraits of prominent cultural figures in the aesthetic club ‘Akku.’ Over time, I became part of the creative bohemia. Writer and later my friend Oralhan Bökei, knowing my love for theaters and museums where I always found inspiration for my articles, once advised me to visit the café ‘Akku,’ perhaps to search for a muse.”

“‘Akkushka’ was not just a café but a beloved gathering place for journalists and the city’s creative elite. Meetings here were not only pleasant but inspiring, filling us with new ideas and impressions. I often spent time here, finding inspiration and writing portraits of artists. Among them was the unique theatre and film actress, Honored Artist Bakyt Zhangaliyeva; we often sat here together discussing her roles and premieres. Many well-known figures gathered in ‘Aqqu’, and I believe this place held special significance for the cultural life of the city. Perhaps without it, some works by Kazakh writers and artists would have been incomplete.”

“My work also reflects the influence of ‘Akkushka’. My diaries, which I have kept since the age of 13, are filled with memories of days spent at the café: ‘I sit alone next to “Aqqu”, listening to the sound of rain under the open sky, completely soaked, watching passers-by who glance at me with sympathy as they walk past.’ One of my first short stories also includes ‘Akkushka’. It was a lyrical tale about a young man trying to express his love to a girl, and the girl, inspired by his sincerity, begins to see him in a different light. The heroine finds comfort exactly there — where swans swim — and whenever she feels distressed, she rushes to that place as if it were her salvation.”

“When I think of the ‘Aqqu’ café, vivid images of the past come to mind — memories and emotions of youth,” says poet Myrzan Kenzhebay. “My friends and I used to go there when we were still young, cheerful, and full of energy. Meetings with girls, walks through the cozy corners of the city, evenings spent in the company of members of the Writers’ Union — all of this became a part of our lives. Those were days filled with sweet nostalgia, days when the swans in the pond were so close to people that you could call them, and they would immediately swim up to you. But then the swans disappeared, and with them disappeared a part of the soul of that place. I do not know why or how the swans vanished. Some say one of them was killed by someone, and the other died of grief. After that, the café itself burned down. Perhaps for the café the swans were not just birds, but its very soul — and when they were killed, its own heart faded as well.”

“The café must be restored not only as a historical site, but also as a sacred space where great figures once gathered. I remember how renowned people such as Askar Suleimenov, Takhaui Akhtanov, and Abdizhamil Nurpeisov sat here, and how Mukagali Makataev visited ‘Aqqushka’ every day, writing down his thoughts in a notebook. This place is not just a café — it is a source of inspiration, where ideas were born and great works of art were created. I myself came up with poems for my beloved right there.”

“‘Aqqushka’ fills me with the warmest memories. I remember it was autumn, I was pregnant with my son Timur, and suddenly I wanted shashlik,” recalls Zaureş Kubekova. “We ordered 10 skewers, and I ate them with such pleasure. When we were schoolchildren and later students, my friends and I often came here in summer to enjoy ice cream and drink lemonade, and in the cold season — to eat shashlik and sausages with green peas.”

“It’s worth noting that in our time, this café never sold alcohol. The atmosphere was completely different, nothing like today’s establishments. You could often meet famous people here because they all lived nearby, worked at the Writers’ Union, and frequently stopped by ‘Aqqushka’. But we didn’t pay much attention to who sat with whom or what they talked about — we were ‘stars’ ourselves,” Zaureş Kubekova laughs.

“It’s wonderful that the kitchen and food storage will be located on the basement level. The architecture of the new project also carries the same lightness as the old ‘Aqqushka.’ If they bring swans back to the area and recreate a romantic atmosphere, the café will become even better and will remind me of my favorite place in Almaty, where I spent my youth,” Zaureş concluded.

“We were 18–20 years old, walking around the square in front of the Government House, and in the evenings we always gladly came to this café, just ate ice cream and talked. We didn’t need much money. In our time we didn’t drink alcohol, there were no fights, and the memories that remain are only these: plombir ice cream in glass bowls you can’t find anymore, lemonade, and sausages with peas,” the woman recalls.

“I remember the ‘Aqqu’ café from the mid-1960s. Back then, it was just an open area where young students came to relax, drink coffee, and have ice cream. I clearly remember a dark-skinned Armenian woman who brewed coffee in cezves on hot sand. Her coffee was simply wonderful. At that time, black coffee in small cups felt like something special. Now coffee is made in machines, and it’s just not the same,” he recalls. “In the 1980s, ‘Aqqushka’ became the main gathering place for students, especially those studying at Kirov KazGU. In the evenings it was so crowded you could barely squeeze through, yet you could always find your own group. For us, students of that time, ‘Aqqushka’ was a cult place. My wish is that the restored café will have affordable prices so all Almaty residents can visit. If it becomes too expensive, it will stop being the place we remember—just like what happened to ‘Teatralnoye’ and ‘L'dinka’,” Beremzhanov added.

“For me, the ‘Aqqu’ café is, of course, a memory of my student youth—around the late 1990s, during the peak of perestroika. It was clearly a gathering place for creative young people and the city’s intelligentsia, located next to the Writers' Union and the Theatre and Art Institute. We used to walk through the city center—from the ‘Karlygash’ café, through the small park, to ‘Teatralnoye’ and then to ‘Aqqu’. In these places you could always meet friends, chat, sit down and discuss things. It was a place where you could find like-minded people, talk about books and films, and have creative conversations.”

“If the café is restored, it will definitely be interesting. The main thing is that the concept should remain that of a summer pavilion — something open, perhaps with verandas made of light structures. The building must be eco-friendly, since the area is located inside a park. In my view, strong design solutions are essential. The project should be discussed with residents and professionals so it doesn’t turn into a disaster, as happened with the establishment on the square near the 28 Panfilov Guardsmen Park. There, an enormous and tasteless banquet hall was built on the site of the fountains, and next to it they placed a bar. I believe such establishments do not belong in parks. Parks should have greenery, open space, and a summer café with a pond and fountains — a place where families can relax on weekends.”
Erzhan Suleimenov

“My childhood and youth passed in this city, in this neighborhood, among these cozy cafés. We had only a few places where we could enjoy ice cream and spend time with friends: ‘Teatralnoye,’ ‘Aqqu,’ and ‘Karlygash.’ We called them the ‘Bermuda Triangle’ because every time we went there, it felt as if time simply stopped.”

“I remember how the swans swam in the park, and sitting there watching them was pure pleasure. Our university was right nearby. In the evenings, we would often sneak out of the classrooms to have a beer at ‘Akkushka’ or ‘Teatralka.’ These outings rarely went without Komsomol patrols: they would catch us, send us to the police, then call our parents – it was real adrenaline and true youth-time ‘extreme,’” Erkin recalls.

“Until six in the evening, discounts could be offered to students, families with children, and pensioners, and in the evening — it’s fine to raise prices for alcohol. Many Almaty residents fear that the ‘Golden Square’ will turn into an exclusive, expensive, and inaccessible area. If we restore ‘Akkushka’, then let’s make it a place that remains open to everyone for whom it matters,” he emphasized.

“It was always lively here. In my time, we gathered with the Jetigen band, Beatlemaniacs, and other student groups, played guitars, held music battles, and attracted crowds of listeners. That’s why it was always noisy and fun around ‘Akkushka’,” Erkin recalls.

“When I think of my childhood, echoes of long-forgotten days wrap around me. It was 1989, I was barely six years old. Every visit to the ‘Aqqu’ café with my father felt like a magical little date. He would always seat me at a table and then, smiling, go to buy ice cream for me. From the terrace, there was a beautiful view of the pond, where graceful swans glided across the water, giving those moments a special charm. Even many years after my father passed away, these memories still fill my soul with warmth,” Aigerim recalls.

“In our neighborhood, they always tried to preserve style and quality. It’s unlikely that any tasteless venue would appear here. Yesterday I told my mother that ‘Aqqu’ would soon be restored, and she was glowing with happiness. She and her friends often went there — it was part of her youth, a time when everything felt brighter and simpler,” he said.