Men altymysh zhashtamyn
Men altymysh zhashtamyn
As I have approached a new milestone in my life, I have had to learn a new phrase in Kyrgyz: Men altymysh zhashtamyn - I am 60 years old … today.
In Kyrgyzstan it is very common to ask someone personal details when meeting them for the first time: how old they are, if they are married or not, about their children … and so on.
It took a bit of getting used to, because it is not common in Britain … indeed, it can seem impertinent.
In a way, that’s not surprising because there is a strong tradition here of respect for one’s elders.
According to Kyrgyz tradition, for example, it is the responsibility of the youngest son to take care of his parents. The older brothers may marry and move away from home to establish their own households – traditionally they were given a yurt of their own to start their married life – but not the youngest son, who stayed with his parents and inherited their yurt. Sometimes the parents decide it is not necessary – but this extension of the general tradition or respect – where youth acknowledges and respects its elders – which is so firmly entrenched in the local psyche that it is rarely defied.
There are a number of titles which are used when addressing an older person as a sign of respect. An older male may well be referred to as baike, (aka or ake) and an older person may refer to a younger one as uke or uka. In pre-soviet times a number of other titles were also used – khan, bek, bai and myrza were assigned to men, whilst ayim (= “madam”) to older women. The Kyrgyz word joldosh was the equivalent to the Russian “tovarisch”, or comrade, but is not used that much today.
I’m not sure if today I join the ranks of the aksakal, (white beards … the title given to the elders), ot if I have to wait a few more years to qualify.
To be fair, some women, especially in the cities, don’t like being asked their age, but in the villages it is acceptable and most people will answer.
A parent will tell the actual age of a child that has yet to go to school, (usually at the age of 7), but once they are at school, reference is usually made the class that they are in … so, instead of asking how old they are, you might ask which class they are in. This can be confusing if they repeat a year … but that’s not frequent. Schools are organized from the 1st class, (or grade – at age 7), up to the 11th class, (at 18).
As the children get older they start to refer to themselves by their year of birth, so instead of asking how old someone is, you might ask “In what year were you born?”, and the reply is usually the last two digits of the year.
Actually, the year of birth is quite often used as an identifying feature … a zayavleniya, (will quite often be written from so-and-so, then quoting the year of birth; for example: “Ot Ian Claytor, grazhdanin Velikobritannia, god rozhdeniye 1953“, From Ian Claytor, British Citizen, year of birth, 1953.)
News reports, especially of crime stories, will identify people whether accused, victims or witnesses by adding their year of birth even if the names are abbreviated to initials.
Once people start approaching Middle age, the tendency is to revert to asking how old they are … and this practice continues for the rest of their lives.
There are some limitations, however, and it’s not a total “free for all”. Younger people, for example, usually won’t ask about boyfriends/girlfriends on a first meeting, (it’s only as people get to know one another that such topics are approached), but one of the advantages of advancing years is that you are free to do so.
As it happens, I don’t like birthdays and I would be happy to forget it … but Birthdays are big here and altymysh is a kroogliy data – a round figure – so I doubt that I will be allowed to do so …
Bishkek