The Kazakh Woman
This is about a chance encounter I had with a Kazakh family ... an edited version of this story appeared in 4EVER YOUNG,supplement, Warrnambool Standard newspaper, 23/03/2010.
She looked curious and tentative, her expression said " please like me". She rode a horse and her small child sat in front of her. We were just outside Buerjin in China's Northern Xinjiang Province, heading towards Kanas Lake by car, just myself, my Chinese guide Jack and our driver Mr Wang. We'd spent the night in Buerjin after driving from Urumqi, the provincial capital, a journey which had taken most of the previous day. And now this sight, a family of three nomadic Kazakh people on their way from their summer camp in the mountains around Kanas Lake to an autumn encampment on the warmer hills and plains.
There was an assortment of animals in their train. Cattle, lifeblood of the Kazakhs, camels, the beasts of burden, and the two horses, one carrying the woman and child and the other ridden by a man I assumed to be her husband. He cantered along the periphery of the road, keeping the cattle off the bitumen and onto the vegetation, using a long flexible birch wand as a whip. He ranged up and down, protective of the animals- and his little family.
When I saw the procession approaching I said to Jack " what's happening, who are they ?" and " can we please stop so I can take some photos ?". Wang the driver pulled over and both Jack and I leapt out. The look on the woman's face when she saw me- a yellow-haired foreigner! She was as interested in me as I in her. She had a long face, and Asian features, her hair hidden in a red scarf. I smiled and gestured with the camera, and a shy smile in return and a quick nod gave me her consent. Her doll-like child was warmly clad in a soft pink beanie and matching poncho. The camels plodded submissively behind the woman's horse. The yurt, its many pieces expertly folded, was roped onto the two-humped beasts along with the yurt's wooden poles and other items of daily life. A small bright blue table sat atop one camel.
Gradually the group passed by, the animals hooves making soft noises on the grass. We jumped back into the car and continued our journey. I realised that Jack, too, was fascinated by the encounter with the Kazakh family.
We arrived at Kanas Lake and our hotel. It was one of many dotted around the mountain area: European in style, white, two-storied. We could have been in Switzerland. It was autumn and the birch trees were yellow like my hair. I thought about the Kazakh woman and wondered what she was doing. Had she arrived in a new location ? Was she cooking an evening meal? Did she spare a thought for the stranger she saw on the road?
Kazakhs are nomadic people with a long history and complex culture. Their language is from the Turkic family and their religion , Islam. Jack told me that the government had built them permanent houses to encourage them to stay put. The Kazakhs used the houses for their animals and hay, and continued to roam, living in their yurts or gers.Even so, many are deserting the nomadic life for cement walls and warmth in the harsh winter. Maybe the days of nomadic Kazakhs are numbered.
I'm home again, and looking through my photographs. I'm wondering about the Kazakh family. The harsh winter in Northern Xinjiang continues, but spring is not too far away. They will be packing up soon and heading for their summer home in the mountains. The little girl will have grown. Will I see them again when I'm travelling that road ? I don't know. It doesn't matter. I have the photos to remember the encounter, but interestingly, it's the images in my head that I seem to treasure most.
Di Clanchy
Photographs courtesy Jack Nan and Di Clanchy.
Di Clanchy travelled courtesy of CYTS Xinjiang Co. Ltd.
