Yrymdau: How Kazakhs invite luck and embrace unseen in everyday life

Astana grew up in a Russian-language environment, but in the traditions of Kazakh deeply rooted at least, so I always felt. From childhood, I have witnessed a world where everyday life is intertwined with beliefs. Superstitions and deep reverence for the tangible world have mixed perfectly with an awareness of forces beyond what we could see.

Aida Haidar.

One of my first memories was in our old apartment “Khrushchyovka” in Kokshetau, where my family lived up to ten years. Like any good neighbors, I have often borrowed kitchen items from each other. My mother would send me to bring a pot or plate, but when it was time to return it, she always placed sweets or small delicious inside. Curious, I asked him why. She explained that this was a way to share our “yrys” – a Kazakh word that means prosperity or abundance. Returning an empty dish was to raise our own luck. In childhood, this has been felt as part of a game, but over the years, it has become a rooted practice, which I carried with me in adulthood.

This was my first introduction to “Yrymdau”, a Kazakh tradition of reading Omens, recognizing signs and taking or giving small chips for luck. It was not a rigid rituals, but rather an intuitive way of moving through life – an unspoken understanding that the worlds seen and unseen must be kept in balance. At least, that’s how I understand Yrymdau and not claim to be a complete expert on this topic.

For example, I try to start important tasks Wednesday, because I grew up believing it was a lucky day. When I face financial difficulties, I donate charity or find a way to help someone who needs it. Many could see this as the law of balance – giving before – but for me, it is an extension of Yrymdau, a way to align me with wealth and goodwill.

Also, the names are often related to this faith. During the Soviet period, the famous singer Adea Vescheva was well known, and my mother, a music girlfriend, named me after her. In a way, this name modeled me. I have always had a deep appreciation for arts and I often wonder if this was an extension of tradition, a kind of whispered hope transmitted by a name.

I think Kazakhs have long understood that wealth is not only hindered – it is invited. Our ancestors believed that if someone had success, some of their luck could be shared. At big holidays, people would take food from the holiday or even ask for an article from the lucky person, in the hope that this gesture would allow the fortune to favor them. But Yrymdau was never just to take – it was about effort. Luck may knock on your door, but you had to be willing to meet and do the work yourself.

That happened to me. When I was preparing to study in the United States after high school, I borrowed a pen from my sister, who visited the country before me. And when I graduated, my younger cousins ​​took something of mine, believing that they will bring them luck in their own studies. It was a quiet, unspeakable understanding transmitted from one generation to another.

In its center, Yrymdau was a way in which Kazakhs were sailing in a unpredictable world and finding a control measure in the vast and often harsh landscapes. Life here has never been easy – endless raids, brutal winters, an unforgiving climate. The survival demanded more than just a resistance; Required an acute awareness of the world’s signs. I think this is why Kazakhs approach life with deep respect, not only for nature, but also for the unseen forces that guide our paths.

More than anything, I am convinced that Yrymdau is an act of optimism. Faith is that luck, happiness and abundance are not only accidents, but things that can be fed and encouraged. Only those who paid attention to heaven, wind and animal movement could survive in the steppe. This attention, this belief in signs, has been performed throughout the generations.

In their book, “Qazaq Yrymdary” (Kazakh beliefs), authors Akhmetzhan Kaibary and Bopaiuly Bolat write: “Only those Kazakhic beliefs have been filtered well over the centuries of nomadic life have survived. They are deeply rooted in the consciousness of the nation and leaves no place for doubt. “The book lists around 500 superstitions, including practical wisdom, such as:” If a dog follows a rider leaving the village, it should not be expelled. This is a sign of a safe trip, because a dog is loyal to his owner and does not want any harm. “

And everyday habits, such as: “A kettle should be placed evenly on the fire so that the boiling liquid does not flow on the stove. If the tea is overflowed, it is believed that burning water salts bring misfortune to the daughter of the house. A cauldron should not be positioned inclined towards the entrance. If he slips and overturns, he is a bad man. “

However, I see a deep reverence for the natural flow of life. There is wisdom in signing signs, believing that wealth can be encouraged and knowing that even small gestures – a sweet in a borrowed dish, a borrowed pen, a start of Wednesday morning – I can advise the scale so easily in your favor. Yrymdau does not refer only to superstition; It is about hope, resistance and quiet ways in which we try to model our destinies.