"We set to opening presents. I had already bought and wrapped little gifts for everyone but felt quite guilty about the price and the fact that they weren't exciting. But it turns out--who knew?!?--that Turkmen are less materialistic than Americans! I gave hot chocolate, knitting needles, a small calculator and ruler set and a loofah. I think I was the big hit."
Peace Corps Volunteer Kari in Turkmenistan: New Years in Turkmenistan
1.05.2005
Essay #15 (New Years in Turkmenistan)
Turkmenistan has economized all its holidays into one conglomerate called New Years. I was too busy celebrating to snap a picture of children in costumes waiting for Santa while we eat a feast, toasting to our health and family, at 12:00 midnight. Yes, our Halloween/Christmas/Thanksgiving/New Years party (and did I mention my sister's birthday is the 30th and my brother's is the 2nd?) was quite a sight. Is it the removal of all religious affiliation that moves it all to New Years, or is it just easier to get together only once a year?
The women began preparing several days ago, putting up decorations and setting up our tree. Santa is called "Father Freeze" here, and he sometimes looks like an old German representation--thin with a blue robe and a staff--while other times he is Santa to a T.
The salads alone took up the whole dinner table and took hours of chopping and mixing. I've never in my life seen two women make a picture-perfect feast absolutely from scratch. Everything was from scratch except the mayonnaise (which is a staple in most dishes). Several meats were cooked. Our Thanksgiving turkey was replaced with crow. Yes, crow. Even the men took part in making grilled shashlik, just like an American dad and his steak. Between vegetable chopping the women prepared for the night one tiny step at a time.
I'm in the kitchen, and before I realize she was gone, Fatima returns with her hair done and makes a cake. An hour later her make-up is in place and she's boiling pelmeni. We set up the meal upstairs with our nicest china, and at this point it's already 9:00 p.m. and I'm wondering when the heck we're going to actually eat.
The 3-year-old has been set up thoroughly for the arrival of Santa, and I wonder which grumbly, lazy man in our family will actually put on a red suit for any cause. The boy gets dressed up in a costume--he is Petrushka--or, to an American, a kind of Joker/Clown-type thing, and he is extremely cute. We sit down to our meal at about 11:15 p.m. and give a toast to our ongoing health and fortune and happiness . . . etc.
The toasts are necessary and always long and involved. The family digs in, and I can't imagine more being packed into one day, when we hear a clatter from downstairs, and my mom arises to see what was the matter! Santa arrives--a woman in a giant red suit with a Santa mask accompanied by a man with a Bayan (accordion, but pretty sounding) and a young girl. We drag Petrushka to see Santa, and after greeting him/her, Petrushka promptly cries. I'd be scared, too, if I thought that mask was a real face! This Santa doesn't just drop off a present. No, he/she comes to the feasting room and leads us in song and dance accompanied by the Bayan.
Petrushka gets used to the weird-looking Santa and has a blast. Even I am caught up in our little circle dance and song. Petrushka gets his present. Santa sits down for a toast and is off. Not a family member at all, as I could have guessed, but a genius entrepreneur! With Halloween over, we concentrate on finishing our meal and pouring champagne for a countdown. Of course to get the real time, we have to turn on the Turkmen station and listen to--guess who--until minus 15 seconds. (With no clock on the screen, we have to watch with rapt attention.) At 12:00 we toast with our champagne, and the kids run to the windows to look out.
Fireworks?!! It turns out that instead of a city-wide display, people merely shoot their own fireworks out the windows of their apartments! I've never liked huge firework shows, but for some reason this is so nice! Without regulations people set off real fireworks. The communal feelings soar, and I am proud to be here in a place where all people do things themselves. We cooked our own meal, all the neighborhood families set off one or two fireworks, and everyone gets to watch. There's a pride in independence that America tries to claim but has never felt. People here survive without help from kitchen gadgets and closet organizers.
After a few strong requests, I got out my violin and played Czardas for everyone, and they all enjoyed it more than I expected--even dad!
We set to opening presents. I had already bought and wrapped little gifts for everyone but felt quite guilty about the price and the fact that they weren't exciting. But it turns out--who knew?!?--that Turkmen are less materialistic than Americans! I gave hot chocolate, knitting needles, a small calculator and ruler set and a loofah. I think I was the big hit. My mom gave some bath supplies and, to me, a cotton dress (here, probably a nightgown) that I love! It cost a dollar here. It was wrapped in a plastic bag. So ended the Christmas holiday!
I walked around the city with my sister Aziza, and we mostly giggled at couples and talked of visiting California. I got to sleep around 3:30 and woke to a Thanksgiving leftover feeding frenzy and a viewing of the video we shot the night before. Hopefully I will get a copy so I can show everyone how convenient our overnight holiday season is!
Happy New Year!
