Ile-Alatau Mountains, which is home to the elusive snow leopard. Approximately 70 percent of Kazakhstan's snow leopards live within protected areas. All photos credited to Ainur Khaliollayeva
As I wrap up my time as a communications intern at the Global Environment Facility, I’ve been reflecting on the path that led me here. It started in October 2021. I was descending Yuny Geolog Mountain in southeastern Kazakhstan at sunset, when I received a message from Ainur Salimbayeva from the UN Development Programme in Kazakhstan, asking: “Would you be interested in photographing a story on snow leopard conservation?” As a photojournalist and someone with a deep love for nature, this was an opportunity too important to pass up, so I agreed immediately.
A few weeks later, I joined Aleksey Grachev, who at the time was the head of the Theriology Laboratory at the Institute of Zoology of the Academy of Sciences and a snow leopard specialist, on the road to Ile-Alatau National Park near Almaty. The Institute of Zoology had been actively working with the GEF and UNDP on a project to determine the snow leopard’s range, assess its population and feeding areas, and develop recommendations to support its conservation across Kazakhstan.
As we wound through the mountains with Aleksey, my questions poured out — about how often these elusive cats are spotted and what it takes to protect them in such rugged terrain. Aleksey’s knowledge ran as deep as his enthusiasm.
The snow leopard photo was taken by Saltore Saparbayev, Aleksey’s teammate.
Although we didn’t see any snow leopards that day, I was able to witness conservation in action. We climbed high into the mountains to install camera traps and collect data along the way. What stood out for me was the clear bond within the team, built on a shared and genuine passion for protecting those rare and magnificent cats.
Aleksey and Saltore install a camera trap, showing how conservation depends on collective effort. The cameras are non-invasive ways to capture and study snow leopards living in remote and rugged terrain.
Aleksey and his team on the way to climb the mountain. Their camaraderie grows from trust and a common purpose.
This Snow Leopard project introduced me to another GEF-funded effort in Kazakhstan, the Eco Damu Programme — a microcredit initiative providing low-interest loans to rural entrepreneurs for businesses that promote biodiversity conservation, creating alternative income sources for communities near protected areas. That is how I met Assem Auganbaeva, who once dreamed with her husband of opening a guesthouse and carried that dream forward on her own after he passed away. In her, I saw a strong woman raising four children while running a small business near a protected area and contributing in her own way to the country’s development of ecotourism.
Assem inside her yurt holding handmade artisan and eco-friendly dishes.
Assem welcomed guests into eco-friendly yurts, cooked traditional dishes, and carefully maintained every room. Her work showed how rural people in Kazakhstan are embracing entrepreneurship while serving as custodians of nature.
Hope is visible in the genuine care Assem gives to others.
These experiences have stayed with me as examples of how hope can become visible in action — in people whose dedication add up to real change. Their commitment reminds me that as long as people remain passionate about protecting the Earth, there is reason to believe in a sustainable future.
Later, as I pursued my master’s degree in the United States, working to build a career as an educator, I carried my love for and curiosity about the environment with me. In a course on teaching climate change, I explored hope from an educational perspective and discovered its power in shaping how learners imagine the planet’s future.
It became clearer to me that hope isn’t blind optimism. It’s what sustains action, moving between belief and doubt, courage and exhaustion. Recognizing this fluidity helps us recover from setbacks and stay focused on what’s possible, even when solutions feel distant. Though it often begins with one person, hope’s true power emerges collectively through the steps we take.
During my stint as an intern on the GEF’s communications team in Washington DC, I have seen hope reflected in environmental projects around the world, and in the young people speaking up for generational change. It was inspiring for me to learn from interviews with biologists in Honduras and environmental advocates from Brazil and Samoa, and to help raise the visibility of community-driven activities focused on restoring ecosystems and addressing pollution. Learning about these varied efforts showed me once again, what collective action can achieve. Their persistence nurtures my sense of hope.
Looking ahead, I aspire to continue blending my love of nature and media with the potential of education to affect change. This includes designing online courses that incorporate a data-driven understanding of how people learn, aiming to inspire curiosity about our planet and foster a shared sense of responsibility about its care. I know that, in the long term, wherever my career may lead, hope will remain within me, and I will work to pass it on to others as Aleksey and Assem did for me.