Terrenkur in Almaty is lined with borders, with people living on both sides. Tall, deaf, concrete, metal, factory- and home-made, with and without sharp peaks, barbed wires. Fences cut the city into reservations and blocks, into corridors and labyrinths, inside of which something happens. The desire to protect one's own boundaries is as understandable as the desire to look beyond them without violating them. What is there? Most likely, the same sky, same trees, same people – all with conditional boundaries beyond which it is impossible see.