During our recent Inter-Service Training, the Peace Corps staff found, for us, a performance of traditional instruments put on at the stunning, old Soviet opera theatre in Bishkek.

This performance, done by a troupe called Kambarkan, taking their name from the first note ever to be played in Kyrgyz, was easily the cultural experience of my time here, and ranking in my whole life.

(Have a listen!!) Zhurögümdöm (From The Heart)

It was a 13 piece orchestral ensemble, made up entirely of traditional instruments. The two percussionists played hand drums, a big wooden xylophone type instrument, and something that sound like a triangle which I couldn’t see. There were a collection of komuz players, the prolific, skinny local equivalent to a guitar. We had two men who were masters of a range of small mouth instruments, and a whole host of people playing what looked like tiny European bridged string instruments, little cellos and the like.

The sound of these instruments played in unison was unparalleled. It was every show I’d seen them in before combined, and their quality top notch. I simply didn’t know anyone got together and played these traditional instruments with this skill. Strikingly, the musicians were all quite young. This did not seem to be a dying art of the elderly. Instead, it was energetic, excited, creative and full of life. The youth were pursuing this, and they were loving it.

The costumes were also of the highest quality I had seen. The men wore black pants and white shirts, but also black velvet half capes dressed in Kyrgyz symbols, sporting the nicest kalpaks of them all. The women wore flowing princess dresses, and from their hats sprouted the fluffy plumes of grass.

Over the course of the evening, there were a few special events. At one point, the mouth instrumentalists plus one of the princess women stepped forward to perform on the Mouth Komuz. This assortment of tiny metal instruments sported little prongs which they seemed to flick to produce a sound similar to a didgeridoo. Some had metal supports with the prong near the mouth, one was operated with a string, and another seemed just to be held in the mouth, and played with a dramatic sequence of hand motions, only half of which ever touched the instrument itself.

During another special, an old man came out, with boots covered in symbols, his cape covered those same symbols,  but in royal colors, and his kalpak more ornate than any, surely, in existence. He carried both a komuz and a small table. It had two levels, the lower of which held two deer. As he played the komuz, by some unseen apparatus he made the deer dance. It was funny, clearly for children, and his confidence in presentation made him a star. At one point, a ram jumped up from the back, to dance on the top level. But he didn’t come up quite right, and got stuck on the table cloth. This confident, jovial old man only giggled with us as he pressed his pedals again, trying to get the ram to mount its little stage. But it couldn’t, and with a casual flick he helped it up. We laughed at the show, at the casual malfunctions, and the comedic ease with which he solved them.

But just as soon as he had finished, and we were sure the silliest part of the show had come and gone, two male performers each produced 6 foot long horns, and brought the show into utter chaos. The horns seemed design only to gather attention, to assure all had their eyes on the stage. Then a man came out, dressed as a shaman, doing some kind of ceremonial dance with a whip, which he pounded on the ground. He left, and the old man who had performed with the deer seemed to be introducing one of the young men performers to one of the princessly women. Before they could be wed, however, to midgets came out to box. It was a suit in which one man, on all fours, made up two sets of little legs, one with his own, one with his hands, and each set of legs paired to a little costume body. These two little people made up of one skilled performer proceeded to fight for our enjoyment. He kicked out his own legs, did flips on the walls, and even spilled off of the stage. By the time he stood up, to show, for the first time, his full stature, the crowd might well have been convinced they had been, indeed, two little people.

Apparently Peace Corps had arranged for us to attend a showing by this troupe that specialized in traditional performances. It warmed my heart to see such uniquely Kyrgyz theatre performed in a venue of high art. The people loved it. The crowd was in uproar during applause. This was not the stuffy theatre of the snooty, but nor was it an underfunded, frowned upon indulgence of the lower class. It was a people who loved and respected their history, and were ready to work hard to give it new life.