Update 3: Issyk-Kul, Ala kachuu, and the Epic of Manas

 

Issyk-Kul, Ala kachuu, and the Epic of Manas

At last a more photo heavy update! Bishkek as a city has its merits, but at times I have struggled to find its more photogenic parts. 

This update picks up after our midterm week, thus the longer break between posts. On Wednesday, we packed up and headed off on a strenuous, albeit rewarding, trip to Issyk Kul. With some 118 rivers inlets, Issyk Kul is the second largest mountainous lake in the world. Without a single outlet, the lake is also saline. Issyk Kul has been a vital area for humanity for thousands of years. Long before the nomadic Kyrgyz people settled in the region, Issyk Kul was home to vast ancient cities. While the cities have since disappeared (most under the lake after a large earthquake), Scythian burial mounds still dot the landscape. 

During the heyday of the Great Silk Road, Issyk Kul was a vital meeting point for human civilization. Perhaps it was too important a meeting point, as in 2022 scientists were able to pinpoint it as the origin of the Black Plague. From Kyrgyz rodents to travelers along the Silk Road, the Black Plague made its way to Europe. 

Uyghur Lagman

From the Soviet period to today, Issyk Kul remains a major tourist and resort destination. Wary of long days of structured excursion tourism, I knew the days would be tiring. I was right, they were exhausting albeit full of amazing places and people. After our first day touring around the major sites of the near side of the lake, we made our way to the far side. For lunch we planned to eat with a Uyghur family who have developed a business of hosting tourist groups in their living room. Having had my socks blown off by Uyghur cuisine once before in Turkey, I couldn't wait. This time was no different. Over the course of four courses we were served an incredible fresh eggplant salad, a hearty beef broth, fresh Samsas (small hand pies), and the star of the show Lagman. Flavorful stewed meat and vegetables with freshly made noodles, Lagman is the definition of comfort food. Every bite seemed to be the perfect balance of savory, umami, sweet, spicy, and sour. Uyghur cuisine, like so many Central Asian cuisines, is the result of crossroads. From its use of Szechuan peppercorns and other spices associated with Chinese cuisine, to its take on Samsas (derived from the word samosas) Uyghurs have taken the best from its neighbors while adding their own unique flare.

Burana Tower

As is nearly always the case, food is only as good as the company you get to share it with. This time, we were blessed to be in the company of a remarkable family, the Unruh's. Having moved from the Xianjiang Province in Western China to Kyrgyzstan during the early 1900's, the family has called Kyrgyzstan home for generations, yet have maintained their unique Uyghur culture and customs. At one point our host Irina would lay plain the situation for her people, "Because of what is happening in China to our people, I am very glad to have been born here in Kyrgyzstan." Uyghurs are the majority ethnic population in the Xianjiang Province and beginning in 2014, have been forced to abandon their faith and customs and sent to "reeducation camps". Journalists and human rights activists attempting to report on the crisis have been arrested and forced into silence. On the global stage, lending to its vast influence, China has been permitted to act without much resistance. While many argue that the Uyghurs are facing what amounts to genocide, they without out a doubt face a blatant attempt to erase their ethnic tradition from China. 

Given this current context, I felt particularly honored to be with a Uyghur family sharing their story and culture with us. As Irina and her daughters joined us at the table, their hospitality, generosity, and lightness was overwhelming. 

Irina pictured with our group

Unexpected to us all, the conversation turned and we learned that Irina had been subject to "bridal kidnapping" as a young woman. Jarring to a group of Americans and Westerners, this beautiful family was the result of that bridal kidnapping. Although "Ala kachuu" (literally meaning "to take and run") has been outlawed, it is still practiced in rural areas. At 17, Irina was set to study at the Polytechnic University of Bishkek. Irina, a driven student ready to begin studying engineering, was walking down the sidewalk when a truck pulled up to her on the sidewalk. Several men jumped out and took her away to her husband-to-be's family home. There they would keep her for a week while the husband's family negotiated a bride price for her hand. She cried for weeks and begged to be let free. Her father would eventually give into the bride price and she was married to a stranger five years her senior. Irina subject to this repressive tradition and forced to abandon any ambition she had, has dedicated her life to fighting for her daughter's wellbeing and education. Years later and traumatically for Irina, one of her daughters was standing at the bus stop outside the family home when again a jeep pulled up on the sidewalk and took her away. This time in an era when Ala kachuu had been outlawed, Irina called the police and they found her daughter a few hours later. 

Irina has dedicated her own life to ensuring her family's happiness and success. Insisting that her daughters receive diplomas before marriage, they have all graduated from universities in Bishkek. Her husband passed aways from a heart attack 10 years ago. Irina reflected that her resentment wained after a few years and she grew to tolerate her husband and raise a successful family. She told this story plainly without much resentment in her voice. While she didn't skimp on the details she knows make us squirm in our chairs, she always emphasized the boundless love she has for her family. 

The Epic of Manas and Manaschi:

We topped of this incredible trip with a night in the Chong Kemin National Park. This mountainous park is a vast home to big horn sheep, Siberian ibex, Tien Shen elk, and snow leopards. As were arriving early in the tourist season when the mountains had not yet shed their snow, we stayed in the lower valley. While the views and cherry blossoms were spectacular, the Manaschi stole the show. 

A "Manaschi" is a title given to someone who can recite the Epic of Manas from memory. The Epic of Manas is the story of the Kyrgyz people. It recounts the life of the great warrior Manas, and the story of the Kyrgyz people as they moved across the steppe and fought other Turkic tribes and faced incursions from the Chinese. The tale consisting of more 500,000 lines, recited in full, would take 40 days if a Manaschi were to recite from sunrise to sunset. The title of Manashi applies only to those who recite the tale by heart.

Nurbek our Manaschi sat down with us in a half circle with him in the middle. Without much digression, he began to recite the first section. After the first three lines or so, his eyes closed and he began to rock back and forth. His voice rose in volume and intensity. His voice pierced the room as we were absorbed into a story that no one but himself could understand. He set into a trance as he rocked in his chair. Eventually the emotion took hold of him and he fell to the floor. On his knees, he continued to recite the story. As Manas felt angry, his voice conveyed anger. As Manas' mother began to cry, he shed tears. 

The whole thing felt like something beyond performance, yet it is not totally ritual either. This incredibly vulnerable experience was something in between. We asked him questions after he recited some 15 minutes for us. I was curious as to how he feels sharing something so culturally precious to the Kyrgyz people to a group of students from America. His answer was clear, "If you are open to accepting the gift of Manas, then anyone can receive its teachings." Most of our group seemed to be open to accepting this precious gift and experience, while others remained fixed on their phones or were not willing to dive to the depth of vulnerability that was necessary to enjoy the experience. Most of us listened intently and had good and meaningful questions for him. It was clear he felt that we were people that the Manas could be shared with. This is what for me makes good cultural exchange. We understood that it was not something that could be taken or bought, it was a gift that he could choose to share with us or not. While there is an inevitable danger in commodifying culture for tourism, I felt that this was something more genuine.