The Legend of How the Manap Shabdan Jantaev Wanted to Marry the "Alai Queen"

KURMANDZHAN AND SHABDAN

The name Kurmandzhan — the "Alai queen," as the Russian press called her, began to be surrounded by legends even during her lifetime.

These legends are passed down from generation to generation. Here is one of them.

...The largest sarybagysh manap Shabdan Jantaev decided to extend his power not only over Northern but also Southern Kyrgyzstan. Dominating the Kemin basin, he resolved to take control of Alai as well.

What is needed for this? It would be best to marry the "Alai queen." So he set off to Alai accompanied by his warriors.

Rumors of this reached Kurmandzhan. She remembered her husband Alymbek's attempt to unite not only Alai but the entire Tien Shan under his rule. But to see Shabdan in this role?.. What could a new marriage bring her?..

And then the legend somehow resonates with the well-known fairy tale by Charles Perrault about Puss in Boots.

...Shabdan rides with his warriors. A huge flock of sheep numbering in the thousands comes towards them.

— Whose sheep are these? — he asks the shepherds. They reply:

— They belong to the datkha. She has another hundred such flocks.

— Kurmandzhan is rich in sheep! — exclaims Shabdan and rides on. Coming towards them is a huge herd of horses: beautiful mares with foals, and around them stallions with fiery eyes are snorting.

— Whose beautiful horses are these?

— They belong to the mistress — Kurmandzhan-datkha, — the shepherds reply. — She has another hundred such herds.

They continue on. They see a huge white yurt, and around it — an entire aiyl.

— Whose aiyl is this?

— Our datkha set it up for travelers. Come in, dear guests, and enjoy! She has another hundred such aiyls.

Finally, Shabdan is met by three hundred warriors — strong men, dressed in festive clothing, on spirited horses. ~ Whose warriors are these?

— We were sent by Kurmandzhan-datkha to accompany the dear guests. And a hundred such detachments have been sent along different roads: after all, it is unknown from which direction the guests will arrive...

Here they approach the datkha's camp. The accompanying warriors began to argue among themselves: who would have the honor of informing the mistress of the joyful news about the arrival of guests and receive a reward (for good news, one could sometimes be gifted a whole fortune).

— I will! — shouts one.

— No, I will! — shouts the second.

— Let me have it, — requests the third, beardless one. — I need to pay a large kalym — I intend to propose to the daughter of the Namangan hakim.

Soon a large aiyl became visible — festive, white yurts like the wives of beks. And coming towards them is the beardless one, driving sheep and horses:
— The datkha has gifted a hundred rams and ten stallions for the joyful news! Now I can propose to the daughter of the Namangan hakim!

The datkha meets the guests at her yurt — out of respect for the arrivals. To her left stand ten biys, and to her right — ten beks. A hundred aksakals lean on their staffs.

They arranged a feast. Shabdan thought — people from all over the land had gathered here. There were more people than at the horse market in Andijan.

And the treats!.. And tender lambs! And milk foals! And hot beshbarmak! And cool kumys, which makes the head feel young, like that of a beardless youth! Even the dogs were well-fed and lazy for three whole days after the feast.

And what games were at that celebration! One strongman came out — he defeated everyone. A marksman came out — he proved to be the most accurate. And goat wrestling! And...! And...! How could one list them all!

Shabdan looked at all this and a sense of shyness crept into his soul: how rich, how influential the datkha is! However, he did not show it and proceeded to the main conversation:
— Karyndaš! If Kemin and Alai marry, they will live as one family... — Of course, Kurmandzhan looked very youthful, but still her solid age, as well as the presence of six grown sons, gave no grounds to call her a girl. But Shabdan, enchanted by his own idea, was overflowing like a nightingale in spring:
— We must marry! We must marry!

"Karyndaš" in the understanding of northern Kyrgyz is simply a respectful address to young girls. Among southern Kyrgyz, the term "karyndaš" has a shade of kinship. Kurmandzhan played on this:
— Kain! Since I am your karyndaš, we are already relatives! What further marriage can we speak of? After all, I accept you as an esteemed older brother. (Although the "brother" was thirty years younger!)

— Ejeke, I wanted to say...

And he faltered. He became embarrassed. The brave manap fell silent. By using the term "ejeke," which slipped out involuntarily, he acknowledged Kurmandzhan's seniority. What marriage proposal could there be now!

Thus, the proposal for marriage was publicly declined: subtly and without offense. How could an ordinary man like Shabdan compete with this extraordinary woman?

A thoughtful reader, especially one knowledgeable about history, may ask a reasonable question: could Shabdan even propose to Kurmandzhan? They were separated by thirty years, and Kurmandzhan was by no means Catherine II. The "bride" was born in 1811, while the "groom" was born in 1841. In 1876, she was sixty-five years old, and Shabdan was thirty-five!

However, popular tradition has united these two most famous Kyrgyz feudal lords of the second half of the 19th century in one legend.

Myths and Legends