We walked over with my host mom, Ludmilla. Immediately I was separated- men sit together on one side of the room, and women on the other. I sat with a group of old men I had never met before, which I was fine with as I was more interested in watching than talking. The function began with a prayer read by an Imam, the equivalent of a priest in the Muslim faith. The prayer ends with a gesture that is common here in Kazakhstan. The gesture looks like this (only hands) and ends as the hands close and move towards the face, then slide down the edge of the nose. It is hard to explain, so forgive me, but its a gesture that is common before and after meals of ethnic Kazakhs.
The meal began after the prayer. Bishbarmak was served (horse meat, onions, and hand-made pasta). It was very tasty. Of course there was an allotment of sweets, fruit and bread as well. To drink was Kumis. Kumis is fermented mare's milk. The people were guzzling it like water. I have to say it was the best Kumis I have had so far, but it was still pretty terrible tasting.
During the meal speeches were made about the man who had died. After the meal, another prayer was read and then it was over. The men got up and left first, followed by the women. It was an interesting event to see.
