Gambrill's mother was here for Nauryz. Before I get into the holiday, I'll show you a few before the big festivities start. Her mother visited her classroom on Sunday. Yes...Sunday. The Kazakh government decreed that because everyone has off Monday through Wednesday, that everyone had to work Sundays to make up for it. So they had a 7 day school week (normally Mon-Sat). That is a bizzaro-world rule to me, but it makes perfect sense here.
You will notice in the picture below that often the wrong alphabet songs are taught. This isn't a reflection of Gambrill. The kids learned the wrong one from another teacher and in order to not confuse the kids, must push on singing a bad version.
Sunday afternoon we also saw a pageant. It judged 8 teenage girls on everything a woman should know how to do: sow, cook, sing or dance, public speaking, kazakh tradition knowledge, and overall beauty. Each girl won a prize such as "prettiest", "shyest", "best singer", etc. The winner goes on to regionals to compete.
Monday we went to the school's Nauryz festival. Nauryz is the spring festival and occurs on the vernal equinox. It of course symbolizes the new year's growth, and rebirth. It is of Persian origin and has been celebrated for over 3,000 years in many countries throughout the Middle East, Central Asia and Asia, although its a public holiday mostly in the Central Asian countries.
Along with dancing and singing, the students each had a table for their classes (grades), and they brought traditional food and dress.
Cutting up a horse.
The teacher's table. It is quite a spread. The kumis (fermented mare's milk) wasn't bad this year. I've had some stuff that was hard to get down, but this year's was drinkable. The taste is still unusual enough for Americans to not want a lot. The locals guzzle it like water.
Raul Bachevich, the school's director, in all his glory.
Some of Gambrill's students.
Gambrill's mom, Gambrill, Ludmila (my old host mom), and Gohar (my old host sister).
No Kazakh party is considered good until you have a spontaneous dance. Everyone was saying their goodbyes, but the music came on and the dance circle formed. I got some good video. One of the great things about Kazakhstan is that there is no shame on the dance floor. Nobody judges each other- its just about having fun and dancing. But this means you see some amusing dance styles from people you wouldn't expect to see them from. ha.
Tuesday is the official holiday of Nauryz. I went to the concert at the cultural palace. Alishair and Emir sat with us. But as you can tell from the next couple of pictures, the 5 year old Alishair had no interest in watching a concert.
After the concert, we went back to Gambrill's house for lunch. Apul (actually means "grandmother in Kazakh"- her real name is Margarita), made my favorite- steamed buns. Below is a picture of cook and meal. Beef and potatoes (a variation of the national dish besharbarmak), steamed bus, and seaweed. I never thought my first taste of seaweed would come in the largest landlocked country in the world.
The steamed buns are great though.
Here is a little insight into eating here. In America, you would offer more food to a guest, but if they did not want any you would let it go. Here, they try to force you to eat. After Gambrill's mom had eaten several plates of food, Apul turned to Gambrill and said, "Why is your mom not eating anything?" It wasn't a joke either.
3 hours after stuffing ourselves with steamed buns, we came to my house, where my family had more beshbarmak. It was painful but we made it through. My family, being ethnic Kazakh, is often more pushy with food. It isn't just to us, they also do to other guests who are local. But at my house we had 3 types of salad, two types of bread, a huge plate of beshbarmak loaded down with beef and horse sausage (noodles, onions, and potatoes too). Then desert came. There was cake, cookies, chocolates of all kinds, apples and oranges, 3 types of nuts. Then came tea. At each stage you are being told (not asked) to eat more. In some cases, they do not believe that you want no more and will spoon out more for you. "You are not eating anything" was the most common phrase spoken. Words can not describe it, honestly.
We thought we were done after this because tea is usually the last thing in a meal. But at Nauryz, you always get Nauryz Kuje (now-Rooz Koo-zheh). This is my least favorite of all traditional dishes here. It is a thick soup, with unknown chunks, with a smoky yet fermented taste. Luckily we were able to get out of this, as we could not eat another bite.
Today we must go visit more people for lunch- most likely more beshbarmak.
