Buzkashi

The horse game I went to see yesterday was Buzkashi, the traditional Kyrgyz game were riders compete over gaining possession of and carrying away a headless calf.  Played in two forms, the form I saw was Tudabarai , where the points are awarded to a rider who can get the calf and ride his way through and away from the rest of the riders.

It was awesome.

We rode west in our van from Osh on M41 (which you all remember is the Pamir Highway) until we started up into the Chyrchyk Pass which is past Katta-Kaldyk.  We turned south off the highway onto a gravel track that continued up the Taldyk river.  

For more precise directions, drive along M41 until you see the Big Green Man and turn, sharply, right.

The valley widens out, with the river close to the west side pf the valley, leaving a grassy sward before the eastern side of the valley rises sharply up to tree line, about 75 meters uphill.  We headed for the hillside and went up about 50 meters to get a better view of the field.

Shortly after we got up the hill, one of the riders broke away, and raced up right below us, then slowed to a trot.  It was the winner of that stage, as he had the calf across his saddle.  Pretty amazing. The saddle has a very high back, and the saddle horn is high and sturdy.  This rider held his crop in his hand as he had cleared the other riders, and no longer needed it to fend them off.

The action took place mostly away from us, but the vigor with which these men and horses played was evident.  Horses and riders went down and got back up, horses neighed and bellowed, bit and reared, riders yelled and slashed at each other and the horsed with their quirts, all displaying a physical and mental toughness, not to mention physical strength and agility, that compelled respect for both man and beast.  You can't come away from seeing this without shaking your head and thinking how tough these men and horses are.  And of course, there was one dog that was always in the midst of the action, never pausing, always running.

I thought I was far enough up the hill to be away from the action.  Not so.  In this particular form of the game, the idea is to get that calf and break away from the host.  To do that, most riders would take the calf and head straight up a hill.  That's what happened after I took the photo below.  I have a video of the ground as I panted and stumbled up the hill.  Well, I had it.  It reminded me of the videos you see of journalists running away from gunfire, so I deleted it.  No evidence may remain that I showed cowardice in the face of an oncoming horde of horsemen intent only on getting hold of a calf carcass and ripping it out of the firm grip of the rider across whose saddle it is draped.

You will notice that most of the riders seem to be simply sitting about.  They are actually observing the action in the center.  Some are learning, some are planning an attack when they see an opening, and some are socializing.  It is a very strenuous activity.  It takes amazing amounts of energy to even get close to where the calf is.  I watched one rider mount up, trot his horse to where the scrum was, then charge his horse into the middle of the pack and mount an attack on the calf.  It was amazing as he heeled the horse into the middle, the horse bucking and rearing and biting its way int the middle.  The horse was as active as, if not more so, that the rider.  They did get a hold of it for awhile, but were unable to maintain possession.  They cam back to near where we were, and the ride dropped off the horse and laid down to recover.

This young rider was watching things closely from the fringes of the pack.

This guy was awesome.  He scored several times in spite of his smaller size.  His horse was larger than most of the other animals, which gave him an advantage.

This bull was annoying.  It bellowed throughout the games.

This ride impressed the heck out of me.  His jacket is smeared with blood, and there is blood on his face.  He has his jacket on buttoned up because it had started raining, often heavily.

The rider on the left is wearing a sports oat over a turtleneck sweater and a newsboy cap.  Quite elegant, his horsemanship was superb, but he never really got into the middle of things.  More likely he is the owner of the horse ridden by the big guy above, and is just out to ride along and watch the games from the best possible vantage pint - astride a horse.

The van was a very rugged vehicle, but it had some electrical issues.  The driver had to touch the white wire to the black wire (with the key in the ignition) to start the van.

It had been raining quite heavily for half an hour or so, and the river came up.  We had to ford it three times on the way back.

As we approached M41, we encountered a herd of sheep.

And the road had washed out, stranding some cars on the wrong side.

 Not the van.  At one point, we crossed the river and then pulled a truck out which had chosen the wrong place to ford.  When we arrived back at Biy Ordo, a huge thunderstorm overtook us.  There were three more during the night.  And it really poured rain.  However, the forecast is for clear hot weather for the next week.

It was a great day.  I first read about these games when I was 14 years old, and never thought I would get a chance to see one.  I am grateful that I was able to do so.