HOOPY3
... or rather Nooruz, marks the beginning of Spring.
The festival of Nooruz is a national Kyrgyz holiday, marking the beginning of Spring, and also the new year. Allegedly it always rains, and this year was no different.
Also, in Cyrillic lettering, it reads as HOOPY3. As in hoop-like. With a three.
This year it fell on a Thursday, and of course, there was a public holiday to commemorate the festival, but because I live in a place with an abundance of foreigners, my Nooruz was spread over two days. On the Wednesday, the office held their own Nooruz celebration, complete with a little yurt, a table full of food, and a cauldron of plov (delicious rice and beef) that could have fed a moderately sized village.
A specific food/drink for Nooruz is called sumalak, a thick-ish, light brown concoction that has been cooked for thousands of years all across Central Asia and the Middle East. It is made of germinated wheat and water, takes a week to make, and should be boiled and stirred overnight. It tastes like a mixture of bananas and oatmeal, pretty tasty stuff.
As well as the sumalak, there was a lot of dancing, singing in Kyrgyz, and traditional games, which included tug of war, duck-duck-goose, and stand-in-two-lines-opposite-each-other-and-run-into-each-other-until-everyone-is-on-one-side. The security guards were bemused by the popularity of “The Macarena”, which still outperforms “Gangnam Style” in getting people to dance. When festivities came to an abrupt end, I left for a date, and enjoyed the evening.
On Nooruz proper, the rain came down in a deluge, and I took a walk with my now-fiancé into the city centre. Ala Too Square was full of yurts large and small, and a street market that wove through the park and along the main road. There was the customary stage full of lip-syncing performers, and more sumalak than anyone could possibly eat
.
Spring is now in full swing, and leaning into an oncoming sweltering summer. Tulips bloom on the side of the rode, the trees along the roadsides and in the park are in full leafy glory, squirrels sprint up and down the trunks, gnawing on nuts.
One such day, another Thursday, reached thirty degrees Celsius, and fell coincidentally on the day I had decided to propose on, months prior. Superb timing.
The approach of Summer heralds an exciting time in my life. On the other side of it, I will become a husband, and stand beside a wife who I never knew I would meet when I landed at Manas airport ten months ago. I found something that I didn’t know I’d been looking for: someone to love and share the journey with.
Choosing to come here is the best decision I have ever made, and long may that be true.