Buzkashi or: How I learned to stop worrying and love polo played with a dead goat

Buzkashi is awesome.

Horseriding is an essential part of daily life for the nomadic Kyrgyz, and they never hesitate to display their skill in competitions. The best of these is Buzkashi, a game only possible in a region as crazy and quirky as Central Asia. It is called "buzkashi" in the sport's home of Afghanistan, and in Kyrgyzstan is "ulak tartysh" or "kok buru". But buzkashi sounds cooler :)

It is now my most favourite sport in the world! Why? Because it separates the wheat from the chaff, most clearly demonstrates the manliness of men, most emphasises the brutality of competition, most gloriously rewards its victor, and requires the utmost bravery, skill, determination and instinct.

Buzkashi is played by two teams on horseback with the winner having scored the most goals. A goal is scored when the goat is dropped in a ring on the ground. In this way it is similar to polo, to which it is often compared (like I did in my title, admittedly!). But it really is unfair to do so, because polo conjures up images of the English gentry, poshly dressed, trotting around gaiely and hitting a small white ball; whereas in buzkashi the players are rough men of men who literally fight for the possession of a dead animal.

Yes, a dead animal! More specifically, the headless carcass of a goat! The goat truly edifies the ruthlessness of the sport, unparalleled with in modern times.

The animal is prepared the preceding day, being soaked in water to toughen it up. This ensures that the carcass doesn't get too mangled during the game, and more importantly uneatable, in the ensuing madness. I mention eating, because traditionally the winning team got to keep the goat and eat it in a celebration of glory, a testament to victory, and a revelling in the pride of vanquishing a less masculine foe. In the old days the victorious team would ride atop their horses back into town - amid showers of praise, no doubt - and simply drop the carcass at the door of a respected elder of their choosing. Such a gesture carried great honour, and the recipient's family would then prepare a celebratory feast for the winning team and themselves. However, nowadays this is bypassed and the victors get on with the party by just eating the goat themselves. (The winning team in our spectacle simply threw the goat in their car boot, and drove off! Yes, dead goat in car boot.)

The game starts by putting the carcass way down the jailoo (jailoo is the word for pasture; in Kyrgyzstan hilly, never-ending and almost unrealisitcally green and fertile). Then one member from each team races the other to the carcass to gain first possession, after which they try bring it back, and war commences.

Possession of the carcass changes frequently. It weighs about 15kg, so the horse bearing the rider + goat is much slower, and the opposition horses are able to scream ahead and block the horse in possession. Also because the carcass is so heavy it is difficult for the rider to hold, especially when you realise that they are riding a horse with one arm and holding a 15kg dead animal in the other. A tactic often employed is to put one leg over the goat to support it, make it easier to carry, and protect it from prying eyes.

The players continually lurch from their horses to try grab the goat, almost looking like they will tumble off in the process. But of course these hot-blooded nomads are far too skilled and remain on board as if the horse were simply an extension of their own body. (Centaurs must dominate this game!) The Kyrgyz are insane riders and truly epitomise all things horse related. Those Texan cowboys in funny hats, tight jeans, leather boots and spikes are but prissy little girls compared to these Demigods of the Jailoos. My most favourite horse-riding moment was when one of the Kyrgyz competitors fell off his horse in the battle for the goat. But far from complaining of unfair play or that he was in some way hurt he just sprang to his feet, identified his riderless horse (now stationary and awaiting command), ran towards it, grabbed the handle of the saddle, SWUNG himself onto the horse (I kid you not, with the sheer strength of his arms and agility of his body propelled himself into the drivers seat), and in that one same action landed perfectly, kicked his horse into gear... and off he went into the heat of combat! To aid friend and fight foe! Just like in the movies!

When play is not gallopping around the jailoo, tugs of war for goat possession frequently commence. (I love that term, "goat possession"!) When this happens the team sometimes keeps possession, sometimes loses it to the opposition; but often the goat just falls to the ground for all to claim. This signals madness! The riders + horses then proceed to circle the goat, at lightning speed, often trodding mercilessly ON it in the process, each rider trying to block the opposition from reaching down from their horse to pick it up. In the meantime the swirling brown blur of horses are pulled from side to side in unpredictable jerks, unforgivingly by the riders, and frequently collide into each other. These horses are specially trained, raised tough and fast, and were renowned all over the Silk Road world.

It is insane, these mighty, statuesque animals crashing about a dead goat! The riders care not, though, and frantically whip their horses into higher gear to make it dangerous for anyone to bend down and regain possession. Often riders use their horse to push an opposing horse away in order to allow their teammate to pick it up. But they don't just whip their own horses, they commonly whip their opponents horses too just to confuse them.

In this whipping and colliding and tugging frenzy don't forget that there are human riders in the midst as well. And they are human, and become covered in bruises, cuts and gashes. (Worn proudly as battle scars in the yurt communities afterwards, surely.) The riders graze themselves on the saddles of their horses as they tumble about, are often whipped accidentally, scratched in a rash grab, wrestled with in a mad lunge, sometimes even hit by other riders in the heat of play just for the fun of it.

And its all for a goat! A headless, dead goat! The holy grail, the symbol of triumph and testosteronial superiority. The goat is everything, and everything must be sacrificed to get it.

And I haven't even mentioned the weather yet! The fact that things were doubly hard because it was raining the whole day. It made it harder to see for the riders and the ground exceedingly slippery for the horses; altogether making a misguided leap for the goat or whip of a horse, and the resultant injuries, all the more probable.

But this isn't cricket. The Kyrgyz weren't going to head back into the pavillion for tea, roll out the covers, and wait for the rain to pass. And this isn't soccer either. The Kyrgyz aren't pansies in tight shirts who fall like matchsticks at the slightlest touch, cry like girls, and yearn for Oscars.

No. This is an all-out brawl, on horseback, for the pride in acquiring a headless dead animal. This is the ultimate display of skill. The most prestigious test of manliness. The most convincing assertion of superiority.

This is the sport of the gods. This is buzkashi!

THIS. IS. KYRGYZSTAN!

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The festival where I saw the insanity that is buzkashi was organised by Community Based Tourism (CBT) as a national horseriding games festival for Kyrgyzstan's Independence Day (Sep 1).

Buzkashi was the main drawcard, but I was also very keen to see other national games, especially Kyz Kumai ("Chase the Girl"). A girl and boy race on horseback. The girl gets a head start and a faster horse and the boy then chases her. If he succeeds in catching her, his prize is a kiss. But if he fails to do so within a reasonable amount of time, the tables turn and the girl gets to chase the boy. And if she catches him, she can WHIP him!

The Kyz Kumai we saw did not end well for the man. The girl was, in fact, lightning fast on horseback, and she won by a country mile. So naturally it was expected that she would catch the boy in round 2, and catch him she did, and whip him she did too! Whipped him to her heart's content!, done much to the jaunts and laughter of the local Kyrgyz.

(Note: this traditional game was initially not a game but a means of procuring a wife. If the boy caught the girl he won the right to marry her. If the boy failed he not only failed to achieve this right, but was also humiliated by the local community for the insufficiency of his masculinity and continued single marital status. The girl by losing hence submitted to the abundant providence of her suitor; and by winning, rebuked measly marital prospects and indicated to other eligible bachelors that she would be one hell of a catch.)

Two other games were also exhibited, but I have forgotten their Kyrgyz names. The first was wrestling on horseback... which is exactly what it says it is. But don't let such a bland description fool you, for its difficulty and appeal is beguiled by my rather undramatic explanation. Imagine how hard it is to not only wrestle a fairly formidable and skilled opponent, but to do so while controlling a horse as well! In the process the wrestlers/riders are scratched on the saddle and pulled aroud mercilessly, for the objective is to actually pull the opponent off their horse! Christopher Reeve clearly hasn't given a talk on horse safety in this country.

The last game was a far less violent competition, but what it lacked in brutality and adrenalin was compensated for by the surplus of skill displayed. A small pouch of coins was placed on the ground and then successive riders took turns to gallop, then bend down - while gallopping!, while on horseback - and pick up the coin from the ground. A few managed to succeed, but they did so at a slow pace as adjudicated by the observors and were disqualified. Only one was able to do it properly! But what a challenge, to have to bend all the way down to the ground, low enough to pick up the coins, but not too low so that your head drags along the ground, or even worse that you fall off altogether; all while riding a horse rather fast!

To see these games was one of the reasons I chose Kyrgyzstan in which to live for 6 months, and my excitedly high expectations were well and truly satisfied - remarkably! Go Kyrgyzstan!

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Part of trip: Asia Overland

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