Sovietistan by Erika Fatland

Author:Erika Fatland
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pegasus Books
Published: 2019-11-18T16:00:00+00:00

The sun had not yet risen when the older men went out into the blue light of dawn to wash and say their morning prayers. By six o’clock, they were chatting away again in the next room, and by seven the disco rhythms were pounding from the loudspeakers by the outdoor kitchen. It was the day of Mirzo and Nisor’s wedding and the whole village was busy with last-minute preparations.

When I wandered out into the cool morning air, I saw the bridegroom for the first time. He had big, brown eyes, thick eyebrows and high, fine cheekbones; he looked remarkably like Franz Kafka as a young man. He was small and slight, shorter than me, and did not look a day over fourteen. The other guests had told me that he was eighteen, and old enough to get married, according to Tajik law. Maybe he really was eighteen years old – most children in the valley were so malnourished that they looked much younger than they actually were. The opposite seemed to be true of the adults: even the twenty-five year olds had lined faces and rounded backs.

Mirzo sat solemnly on a chair. Behind him, with a large pair of scissors, stood an old, white-haired man who was careful to catch Mirzo’s black locks of hair in a white scarf. Many of the guests darted forwards and dropped rolled banknotes in the scarf as well.

“Money for the barber,” Muqim told me.

Haircut over, the bridegroom disappeared into his parents’ house. We stood outside and waited. After a short while he came back out in a black, shiny suit that was at least one size too big. The guests, now well over a hundred of them, followed him to the end of the village. Here they all stopped, and the oldest men said prayers for him and gave their blessings. Mirzo could not stop smiling, despite the ceremony and circumstance.

His bride, Nisor, came from a village called Qul, a few hours away. Mirzo had chosen her himself, I was told. He had noticed her once when he visited the village, and told his parents that that was the girl he was going to marry. The two youngsters had never been alone together; they had never touched, and had barely spoken to one other.

When the elders had blessed Mirzo, the bridegroom set off for the bride’s village with a small group of companions. They started out on foot, down the steep hillside, but would then drive as far as they could on the dirt road. When the road stopped, they would continue on to the village of Qul on donkeys and horseback. They reckoned they would be back again by early afternoon.

We ate in the meantime. First we were given fresh bread and tea, then a young girl served us with newly prepared pilaf rice. We were then given lentil soup, followed by a steaming vegetable soup. One of the younger boys made sure that there was always warm, fresh tea in the pot.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.