Kazan, the city everyone confuses but no one forgets

New Straits Times

6 days ago

THINK Kazan, think… Kazakhstan? Think again.
It's a mix-up so common that even the locals have learned to smile through it. Ask someone about Kazan and you're likely to be met with a puzzled tilt of the head, followed by: "Oh, you mean Kazakhstan?"
"I used to study in the United States," a young Tatar woman once confided to me over a decade ago during my first visit to this riverside city. "Every time I told people I was from Kazan, they thought I was misspelling Kazakhstan. After a while, I stopped correcting them."
Her story remains vivid, a reminder of Kazan's quiet anonymity on the global stage. But if recent years are anything to go by, that's slowly beginning to change.
From hosting six matches of the 2018 FIFA World Cup to becoming the annual site for the KazanForum — an international platform for economic, cultural, and interfaith dialogue — Kazan is beginning to raise its voice. Yet, global recognition still lags behind its rich history and unique identity.
Situated along the banks of the Volga River, Kazan is the capital of Tatarstan, one of Russia's federal republics. Its culture and character are shaped by a distinctive Tatar Muslim majority living alongside a significant Russian Orthodox population.
The result is a city where mosque minarets rise beside cathedral spires, and streets echo with both the call to prayer and the peal of church bells.
"When I first saw 'Kazan' on our assignment schedule, I thought it was Kazakhstan," admits photographer Syarifah Nurzulaikha Syed Zainuzam with a sheepish laugh, adding: "I didn't even realise it was part of Russia."
The confusion, however, isn't entirely unfounded. Kazan shares Turkic roots and Islamic traditions with Central Asia. Its language, food and cultural touchpoints often feel closer to cities like Samarkand or Tashkent than Moscow. And yet, politically and geographically, it stands apart.
For first-time visitors, the transition from Moscow's imposing grandeur to Kazan's laid-back rhythm is striking. "It's calmer here," Syarifah observes, adding happily: "The skies seem bluer, and everything moves at a gentler pace. It's a dream for photographers."
Much of Kazan's magic lies in its duality. The Kazan Kremlin, a Unesco World Heritage site, encapsulates this perfectly. Within its white-stone walls, the Qol Sharif Mosque — one of the largest in Russia — stands mere steps from the 16th-century Annunciation Cathedral. The cityscape reads like a visual diary of peaceful coexistence.
About 54 per cent of Tatarstan's population is Muslim, predominantly ethnic Tatars, and roughly 40 per cent are Russian Orthodox Christians. Together, they create a religious and cultural tapestry that feels increasingly rare in today's divided world.
Even Malaysia's Prime Minister Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim, during his recent visit, noted Kazan's harmonious spirit. "The way Islam and Christianity coexist here is something the world can learn from," he remarked after touring the Kremlin grounds.
For RTM news producer Tun Julia Mohd Tahir, the city initially conjured images of Uzbekistan. "When I first got the assignment, I had to do a bit of Googling," admits the 43-year-old, adding: "Kazan, Tatarstan, Russia… I wasn't sure how it all fits together. I expected it to feel like Central Asia."
In some ways, it does. Traditional Tatar timber houses with ornate window frames dot the city's outskirts, while markets bustle with vendors selling dried fruits, nuts and chak-chak, a honey-drizzled Tatar pastry. Yet at the same time, Kazan boasts the clean, orderly streets and pastel-hued facades of a European capital.
It's this seamless blend of East and West, old and new, that gives the city its distinctive pulse. What you won't find is the frantic buzz of Istanbul or the commercial gloss of Dubai. And for many, that's precisely the appeal.
"I used to live in Turkmenistan," shares Sharipah Hunaini Syed Ismail, second deputy executive editor at Bernama. "And this place reminds me of that time. The language, the people — even the way they speak Russian feels familiar. I even managed to get a discount at a souvenir shop using the word skidka!" she adds, chuckling heartily.
A CITY FOR WANDERERS
Kazan is best discovered on foot. Bauman Street, the city's main pedestrian thoroughfare, comes alive in the evenings. Musicians strum guitars, children chase pigeons around fountains and street performers draw spontaneous crowds. Ice cream stalls and cafes spill onto the cobbled lanes, their tables filled with young couples and families.
"It's not any one monument that makes you fall for Kazan," muses Tun Julia, watching a group of children playfully splash each other near a public fountain. "It's the small moments, the friendliness of strangers, the calm. Malaysians would love it here. It's different, but it's not difficult."
While halal food is available across the city — with restaurants often displaying halal signage and some even providing prayer rooms — options aren't as abundant or convenient as in Kuala Lumpur. Still, for Muslim travellers seeking destinations beyond the usual, Kazan offers a rare kind of authenticity. Here, nothing feels manufactured or packaged for tourists.
BUILDING BRIDGES
Tatarstan isn't just betting on tourism. It is one of four pilot regions in Russia developing an Islamic banking system. The autonomous republic has also been actively expanding its halal economy with help from global partners, including Malaysia.
During his meeting with Tatarstan president Rustam Minnikhanov, Anwar welcomed the region's interest in Islamic finance and discussed enhancing cooperation in the halal industry. The premier also made a timely pitch. "We hope Russian airlines can resume direct flights to Kuala Lumpur as soon as possible," he told reporters during the Moscow leg of his visit.
Such a move, he added, would not only boost tourism, but also strengthen business and cultural ties between the two countries.
Kazan may not roll off the tongue as quickly as Rome or Paris. But that's part of what makes it special. It's a city that invites discovery, not demand attention. A place where you might arrive by mistake, but leave with intention.
As Syarifah puts it, chuckling with mirth: "We came here confused, but we're definitely leaving impressed."
In a world of destinations chasing hashtags and headlines, Kazan is a rare thing — a city that stays true to itself. It's a place where faiths live side by side not for spectacle, but because they always have.
It's a place where a street musician's gentle chords and the call to prayer rise into the same evening air. Where you arrive thinking you're passing through a forgotten corner of Russia, and leave realising you've stumbled upon one of its best-kept secrets.