Secrets of the Steppe VII: The Wild East

Photo: Eve Mayes with permission for the CLC

Year Abroad student Eve Mayes returns to her column on the weird and wonderful of Kazakhstan to debunk and confirm various myths about Kazakhstan.

Imagine that you’d never read anything I’d written about my Year Abroad destination (maybe you haven’t, in which case this’ll be easier!): what word-associations would immediately come to mind if I mentioned “Kazakhstan”? I’ll take a few guesses. Yurts. Steppe. Tea. Horses.

Since my main aim in this series is to free you from the trap of cultural stereotypes, I’ll begin with the slightly less true of these. No one lives in yurts anymore, in fact – they only really appear around Nauryz - Kazakh ‘New Year’ - which is celebrated for several days, beginning on the spring equinox on the 21st of March each year. These large felt nomad houses have already started popping up around the city centre. They’ll be surrounded by performers in national dress, playing traditional instruments and hosting dinners around richly provided dastarkhan (low-sitting food tables). These people, though, will then return to their beautifully furnished high rise apartment buildings and go about their normal 9-5 city lives. This also illustrates the issue of only associating Kazakhstan with the Steppe – the grasslands are vast, but very few live there and your average Kazakh probably has a similar lifestyle to a London office worker.

Tea is enjoyed here, but that’s not really a novelty for Brits. Or something we’d count as a stereotype of a different country, since its so embedded into our own culture. The minor differences here are that the teas are often fruit-based, can involve fresh ingredients and the only type drunk with milk is Earl Grey.

Now on to the fun part. Horses. Of course, along with the fading out of historical nomad lifestyle, comes the fading out of the necessity of horse riding. Essentially, not everyone here can ride horses anymore – buses and taxis are generally the preferred modes of transport in contemporary Astana. By now, I’d like to think I’ve painted you an accurate enough picture of the city for you to not expect equestrian based transport systems. However, the horse is undoubtedly still an integral part of Kazakh national identity. From sport to food, this is the one ‘stereotype’ association that most Kazakhs will acknowledge as a pretty fair cultural image (like Brits and tea).

I’m lucky to have been riding since childhood. I absolutely love it - and thankfully, with the help of my host family last term, I was able to find a stables where I could continue that here. (I’ve also been lucky enough to try a more traditional form of horse trekking in the Burabai national park). Any time this has come up in conversation, for example with my landlord now that I’m living independently, I have received comments about being “a Kazakh at heart” and “a proper local”. Although these were said in what was clearly a light-hearted joking manner, it felt quite nice to have found such a personal way to break through the cultural barrier and has definitely helped me build rapport with a few fellow Kazakh horse-lovers.

In these interactions, though, follows the inevitable; “have you tried horse meat?”, or “what do you think of the fact we eat horse meat so much?”. Remember the dastarkhan tables in the Yurts I mentioned? The ones richly decorated with the traditional cuisines of Kazakh nomads? A lot of the dishes that crowd them are based on horse meat (and various carbs). Like I said, it’s an integral part of nomad culture that has actually remained a part of everyday life (unlike the Yurts themselves). My interlocutor reacts, more often than not, in a manner of pleasant surprise when I say that of course I have, and actually I quite like it - it just tastes like other meat I’ve eaten in the UK. From beshbarmak to kuyrdak, qazy to kumyz, I genuinely would’ve felt like I was missing out on a huge part of the immersive thrill of my year abroad if I hadn’t had the open mind to try horse-product based cuisine.

For my British readers, who may be feeling a bit disgusted right now – I ask you to question that discomfort. You may be plant-based, in which case you probably feel this discomfort about the idea of eating any type of meat, in which case - fair enough. If, however this feels worse to you – or you’re a regular-old omnivore and yet still find the idea of this uncomfortable – I ask you to consider why you feel this way. Challenge yourself to open your mind – not that you have to try horse meat, just be aware that the dislike of the idea is exactly the type cultural block that I hope to help you chisel away at.

To finish on a more light-hearted note, I’d like to clarify that the Kazakh love of horses and horse-meat are quite separate. I’m confident that the horse I’m jumping around on one day won’t be in my dinner the next. In fact, all the stables I’ve visited have a standard of care that very much rivals English yards. Moreover, the respect shown to horses here is unmatched in Europe – although they’re certainly not pets, they are still treated with the immense awe they inspired as wild beasts, the centre of historically imagined Kazakh national identity.

 As with pretty much all my experiences in Kazakhstan, this was not what I expected prior to living here. Having relocated halfway across the globe, I never expected something as familiar to me as a horse to be at the very cultural centre of my destination. I can happily say this year has uprooted all my preconceptions in absolutely the best way possible. Thanks to this adventure on the steppe, I know I’ll never again make uninformed assumptions about any country I’m yet to visit. I only hope that my stories may protect you from such naiveties as well.