Abai [Абай] and Chai [Чай]

I've decided to cover two topics in this post. Abai and Chai. Abai, better known as Abai Kunanbaev, is Kazakhstan's most celebrated poet and writer. His works have been published and circulated for decades and continues to make the Kazakh people proud. Chai, of course refers to black tea that is the staple of everyday life here. It is widely said and believed in these parts that if a ghosti table has no chai, it isn't a real table. Just like if a meal is without meat, it isn't food.Chai is a necessity. Saying no just isn't an option, one cup is mandatory upon entering a home whilst playing the role of guest. If you refuse chai, you will be hastily and incessantly combated against by your hosts. Why don't you drink chai? Are you ill? If you drink chai you won't be cold. If you drink chai you will heal your ailment. If you drink chai, you'll inherit 10,000 dollars for every cup you gulp down. Well, that last one isn't exactly true, but for diehard advocates of drinking tea, the people here act as if they believe it. What else is a staple and proud mark of the culture and lifestyle here? Abai, Abai, Abai. At least one monument exists in every major city here and some villages. Many cities name streets, magazines and parks after this man. He is best known for showcasing the strife and oppression of Kazakh people under Soviet rule. His poems are sometimes vague, depressing and anxious. He describes the steppe, his kinsmen, the woes they face, the out of control situation they have been enveloped in and continue to perpetuate because of widespread infectious complacency. He also touches on most topics that were most important for his time: weather, work and love. One of the first questions I received upon arriving in Zhezkazgan was whether or not I had read any of Abai's poetry. I, of course, replied yes. but that was a little far from the truth. I have successfully interpreted two of his poems [with a lot, and i mean, a lot of help from my dictionary] and they're just fine. I wouldn't call him a genius writer, but his timing in history has certainly made him a literary celebrity forever. Here is a fully interpreted short poem written by Abai:

WINTER

Broad-shouldered, white-coated, powdered with snow.

Blind and dumb, with a great big silvery beard,

Granddad Winter plods on with a frown on his brow,

By everything living hated and feared.

The grumpy old fellow does plenty of harm.

His breath stirs up blizzards, brings snow and cold.

With a cloud for a hat on his shaggy head,

He marches along, all the world in his hold.

His beetling eyebrows are knit in a frown.

When he tosses his head-dismal snow starts to fall.

Like a crazy old camel he acts in his rage.

Rocking and shaking our yurta's thin wall.

If the children run out to play in the yard

He pinches their noses and cheeks with cruel hands.

No sheepskin can keep out the freezing cold;

With his back to the wind, the shepherd stands.

The horses in vain try to shatter the ice-

The hungry herd scarcely shuffle their feet.

Greedy wolves-winter's henchmen-bar their fangs;

Watch, or disaster your flocks may meet!

Drive them off to safe pastures-don't wait until day.

You won't die if you sleep less-come, quicken your step.

Kondibai and Kondai aren't as wicked as wolves-

Don't let old man Winter, feast in our steppe.

Abai, 1888

So, this is obviously about winter entering the steppe and surrounding his village at the time. The Kazakh people way back when depended on animal husbandry. Sheep, horses, etc. The Kindibai and Kondai mentioned were rival villages near his own.

So to sum it all up, the drinking of Chai is a daily ritual that is so engrained that people usually work around tea time, while the writing of Abai is one of the most popular amongst the Kazakh people.