Kokpar and Carnivores

Shymkent has a longer history than any other major Kazakhstani city, nearly all of which grew out of 18th and 19th century Russian forts. Since the city is located in the far south, it had more historical connections to the Silk Road khanates and emirates based around cities like Bukhara, Samarkand, and Kokand, whereas nomadic regions in the rest of Kazakhstan urbanized much later. This distinction is made clear by the architecture of Shymkent. While not spectacular, it clearly lacks the level of Soviet influence that can be found in 20th century concrete creations like Karaganda.

Shymkent is fairly infamous in Kazakhstan and is frequently referred to by its nickname, "Texas". It is located in the heart of the most conservative and tradition Kazakh region in the country. The city has a reputation for violence and machismo, although in my brief experience all the locals were quite friendly. Deserved or not, its notoriety is such that my host sister refuses to travel there for fear of being bridenapped. In any case, Kazakh guys are rather territorial about their women, so keeping your distance from Kazakh girls would probably eliminate about 80% of potential problems in Shymkent.

(The Shymkent Hippodrome)

From a mental standpoint, Shymkent was a huge breath of fresh air. The city was in full bloom, which was a welcome sight after the frozen bleakness of winter in Zhezkazgan. The bustle of people out and about, the green grass growing in parks, and the leaves that had appeared on trees were practically a novelty to those of us who came from more northerly climes. For most, the main draw of Nauryz weekend in Shymkent was the rare pleasure of socializing with real, live Americans. That was hardly the only appeal to the trip, however -- on Nauryz itself was the fascinating display of traditional Kazakh sports.

(Some guy spending his holiday getting a good whipping while on horseback)

On Sunday we awoke to a dreary sky and the threat of rain. Nonetheless, by late morning we made our way towards the outskirts of the city and the local hippodrome. While there was indeed a large horse-racing track, the stadium itself consisted of bench seating built into the side of a hill. Above the seating was an endless row of food. Plov, doner kebabs, shashlyk, and well...not much else, but there was plenty of those three. On the field there was a series of competitions. First, was a traditional two-horse race between a male jockey and a female jockey equipped with a whip -- both in traditional dress. Essentially, the guy had to ride as fast as he could to avoid the girl's whip. In many cases the guy got away relatively unscathed due to the speed of his horse or the pity of the girl, but one poor sap got absolutely pummeled.

(Kazakhs would almost love tailgating, but the lack of table would be a total dealbreaker. It's too bad, because they do love their grilled meat -- although they don't deviate from shashlyk)

This activity gave way to a strange wrestling-on-horseback competition. Two men on horses circled each other and attempted to drag the other out of the saddle with their barehands. It sounds strange, but imagine a human thumb war on horseback. These guys were pretty tough and most of them acquitted themselves well (by my standards, at least) by managing to balance on a horse despite nearly impossible angles.

(Two Kazakhs grapple for the upper hand in a horseback wrestling match)

Finally, the horseback-wrestling crowd dissipated and gave way to the main event -- kokpar. This is a traditional Kazakh (and Central Asian) team game played on horseback. Instead of playing with mallets and a ball like in polo, they play with a dead goat carcass. Naturally. Teams would work together to toss the carcass into a round goal that seemed to be about 50 yards apart. Faceoffs are conducted by placing the carcass on the ground and guys have to swoop down and grab it without falling out of the saddle. Most of the game featured a scrum in the middle with about 10 horses running into each other as each team fought for the goat. Since the field was very large, it was tough to get a insightful view into how scrappy those scrums really were, but considering they were fighting over a dead goat, we can imagine that it would really bring the blood fever out amongst the players.

(One of many rain-drenched scrums)

The rain eventually dispersed the crowd when the skies really opened up. I hate to admit it, but I proved to be a fair-weather kokpar fan and abandoned the game after about 30 minutes. Truth be told, after the absurd novelty of kokpar, it became a little repetitive. Nonetheless, I have no regrets about spending most of the afternoon at the stadium.

(If you look closely, you'll see a man in yellow leaning down to grab the goat carcass in this faceoff)