50th Birthday Bash!

A month or two ago I had the opportunity to attend the 50^th birthday celebration of my host mother’s daughter’s husband.  It was a neat and exhausting experience.  My family was in a rush to leave, but I had to go to my first women’s club.  It was our first club and I could not bail on them.  It was a grey cold morning and the electricity was out village wide.  Giving the circumstances only 5-6 women showed up for our introductory meeting.  After starting about 30 minutes late (normal) we did our introductions, pre-tests, and then I gave them some freshly baked apple bread.  Every time I cook in this country and share it with people it blows their minds because I am a male and I cook.  Now that it has become a regular thing it still surprises them. 

After our club I rushed home and gathered my things since I’d be staying in Karakol for another week, for a winter camp, after the party and had all of my winter clothes packed.  My brother’s friend Maxat came over with his mini van, we piled in and took off.  It was snowing lightly when we left but it was mighty cold.  We picked up another passenger and dropped them off in Balakchy.  I slept most of the way there but was awake for the part when we hit some wild bird.  My brother and Maxat then proceeded to find the dead bird and put it in a plastic bag and put it in the car.  I have no idea why they did this because in Balakchy they brought it into a gas station and left it with the clerk.  I thought they were going to cook up some road kill stew or something but no such luck.  This was the second time I had been in the car with my brother when we hit a bird and they proceeded to find it.  I have no idea what happened with the bird the first time so maybe it did end up as road kill stew.  In Balakchy we met up with some other relatives and my family said their greetings while I sat awkwardly in the back seat and just waved at them. 

 

My sister in law with her daughter.

Getting ready for the Besh Barmak

Rockin' out accordion style

Sitting in the young people room!

When we hit Cholpon-ata (about half way between Balakchy and Karakol on the North shore of the lake) and it started snowing heavily.  Maxat started driving excruciatingly slow.  It was really annoying how slow he was going but we arrived alive and that is all that matters.  During the snowy stretch we stopped and attempted to put snow chains on the tires.  It took about 30 minutes for them to put them on then another 15 for them to adjust them properly.  They had no idea what they were doing and being from Florida I was definitely no help.  After a drive that took about 2 hours longer than it should have we arrived in a village right on the outskirts of Karakol.  We hopped out and ran inside.  I was thrilled there was plov (rice dish with carrots and meat) and not that many people.  I was hoping for a small crowd and not Besh Barmak and I thought I had gotten it!  NOT!  After being at this house for about 15 minutes we are hurriedly rushed out the door and load back up in the cars and drive another 20 minutes down a side road to the village where we were actually going.  It’s now about 6 pm and we have been on this journey for about 6 hours to reach the final destination so I was happy to finally be there.  When we pulled up there were numerous cars parked out front, I saw big speakers, and some meat was being boiled.  Everything I was hoping against was coming true.  Inside there were 3 rooms set up with tables loaded up with salads, fried bread, regular bread, candy, and fruit, all of the normal Kyrgyz treats that go along with a large gathering.  I’ve learned not to eat too many of the table items because there are usually 2-3 dishes that will come out along with everything that is on the table.  First up is some soup.  The soup was normal, nothing weird, not too fatty, just regular soup.  It was nice.  While we are having our soup a lady comes in with the birthday Man and proceeds to talk about him and give a toast.  I am not exactly sure but I believe they paid this woman to be the MC for the night because she talked a lot and was not his wife or a family member.  We took our first round of shots because people were cold and we had to get warmed up.  The challenge of refusing shots of horrendous vodka had begun. 

 

High quality Kyrgyz dancing

My brother far left, his eldest brother middle, and his friend Maxat far right.  My lil' bro (nephew) in the middle

My host mom in the bright green bandana busting some moves!

They will use every reason and excuse to try and make you drink.  I’ve learned to either just take baby sips, because if you take it all they will give you more, and more and more.  If you take none they will hound you and not stop.  There really is no wining when old Kyrgyz men and women try and make you drink.  After our first course is finished it’s dancing time.  Everyone heads outside into the snowy sub zero temps to dance.  Kyrgyz people hate the cold but when they are drunk and it involves dancing the cold will not get them down.  In fact it is just more reason for them to drink more.  The drunker they get the more they want you to dance.  Being the stranger doesn’t help either.  The old drunk ladies are relentless and vicious in grabbing you and trying to make you dance.  I hate dancing!  So I would refuse as much as I could but would occasionally wiggle a little bit then run off and hide where the young guys are boiling the meat or head inside.  When I went inside there was the room full of the younger ladies.  They were sneakily taking shots of wine while their parents or elders were outside so it would not be shameful.  Generally it is looked down upon for younger females to drink, while for everyone else it is looked down upon if you do not drink.  Yay for gender and age discrimination (sarcasm)!  When it came time for the second course my Apa (mother) called me in to sit with her, but the room with the younger people told me not to go and they were right.  I realized I had been stuck in the old people room with the distinguished guests, aka the no fun room.  For the rest of the night I stayed with the people my age and actually had some conversation and people I could relate with for once while guesting.  I’m normally guesting with a bunch of old ladies or my brother’s friends who are drunk so it is not that fun.  We had musical entertainment by 2 guys who were singing and playing an accordion.  We ate some manti (meat and potato filled dumplings) then proceeded to dance round 2.  More of the same, bad loud music, bad singing, cold weather, horrible vodka, and drunk ladies trying to make me dance.  It was entertaining but got old really fast.  One part I did enjoy was the two guys on shot duty.  In America at clubs we often have scantly dressed young ladies running around trying to sell shots to people.  In Kyrgyzstan we have two drunk guys.  One man is wielding a shot glass that gets used by everyone and a bottle of vodka, the other man wielding a bowl of cold salad to be used as a chaser.  They poor you a shot, then the salad man takes a scoop of salad on the spoon, same spoon for everyone, and feeds you a spoonful of salad.  Despite how gross the vodka is, and the fact that countless people have used the same spoon and shot glass it is impossible to not appreciate that moment when they come to you. 

 

Shot girls in America 

The Kyrgyz version

The Kyrgyz version

The night is dragging on, we’ve had dance offs, shots, the first two rounds of food, and now we are waiting on the besh barmak.  I even received a pen as a gift, I’d call it a prize but lets be honest, I didn’t win any dancing contests.  I am cold, tired, and anxious to leave and head to my friend’s apartment in Karakol where I am hoping to stay for the night since we are leaving early the next morning to go skiing.  It is now 1 am and still no Besh Barmak and I have no idea how I will get to Karakol.  I call my friend and throw in the towel, I figure I am stuck here for the night since we haven’t even eaten yet and I have now idea how I will get back to Karakol.  Not soon after we finally eat around 2 am and by 2:30 am someone tells me they are heading to Karakol then back to their house.  I had a ride and got to escape sleeping in a full house on the floor.  By this time the snow is pouring down. I had never been in a car at night while it was snowing heavily.  It was weird.  It reminded me of a scene you’d see in a movie of a space ship traveling a warp speed.  I finally arrived at my friend’s apartment around 3 am, ending my 8+ hour birthday extravaganza.  I passed out and dreaded having to be up in about 4 hours to go skiing.  It was worth it in the end as it was the most snow and best conditions I experienced of the season. 

It was a beautiful day for skiing with fresh snow everywhere.