Located by a beautiful mountain lake, its boundless waters reflecting the blue sky and the majestic snowy mountain peaks, the chaadyr looked like a small six-sided pyramid made from trunks of young larches supported by the central pole in the middle of the structure. The pole symbolized the basis of the universe. The chaadyr itself was covered with huge pieces of tree bark and maral hides with the fur turned inwards.
“You won’t get frozen in such a home, that is for sure,” thought Saosh Yant. “It’ll be warm here in all weathers. How very wisely our ancestors built homes!”
The chaadyr had a hole at the top, through which thin smoke was curling like a snake.
“The master must be at home,” Saosh Yant thought with relief and wiped off sweat from his forehead. “It means I’ve come at the right time.” Doubting his own eyes, he walked up to the dwelling and touched the hide, which was velvety and nice to the feel.
“At last I’ve come!” thought our hero and at that very moment the curtain of the tent rose and Kudai Kam himself came out. His hair and beard were frost white. But his face, furrowed with accurate smooth lines, was very lively and energetic. At first glance it was rather hard to determine his age. You would think that he was about a hundred years old. But his motions and gestures were active and brisk, like those of a youngster. And the gaze!.. This gaze!.. Penetrating. Firm. It literally saw through you. Like an X-ray. And at the same time very friendly, understanding and wise. Saosh Yant felt at a loss before this wonderful gaze every time. And didn’t know how to behave.
Today Kudai Kam was wearing a light fur robe and home shoes.
“You’re back?” he cordially welcomed Saosh Yant with his amazingly sincere smile.
Saosh looked in his keen black eyes:
“I am,” he breathed out.
“Come in then.”
Kudai Kam amiably raised the curtain.
“You come in, and I need to go away for a little while.”
When Saosh Yant was inside the chaadyr, he felt as if he’d entered a totally other world. In the middle there was a fire burning in the hearth, edged with smooth stones. The flame was tenderly licking the cauldron with fragrant tea simmering in it.
The smoke from the hearth was crawling upward and, passing the canvas sheet where the shaman put herbs, roots and jerked meat to dry, went up into Eternity through the hole at the top of the dwelling.
“Well, well,” thought Saosh, “how precisely the structure’s been designed! All the air goes up. No smoke, no soot. Only the comfort and warmth.”
He looked around the dwelling and once again marveled at how wisely and harmoniously everything had been arranged in it. The entrance faced the east as a symbol that everything comes from Eternity. From the realm of the wise, sublime and aloof God Tengri. On the south-eastern side there hung a horse harness.
“As if it’s just brought us from Tengri Khan’s endless expanses, and now remains here,” thought Saosh Yant. “It’s likely to be telling us that the journey back is a long way off. Stay here, dear guests, appreciate the hospitality!”
In the southern, male side of the chaadyr, ruled by the merry, cheerful, creative and friendly Ülgen, as well as in the south-western side, on the ground, there were chests full of things, and above them, on the shelves, were trinket boxes.
“Ah, I’d really like to look inside,” the daring idea flashed through Saosh’s head. “There must be lots of various magical things hoarded there! And each can do something unique, helping its owner.”
And instantly he gave himself a slap on the wrist, “Quit that!!! What a shame! These are sacred items of great power. They are not just ‘things’, they are what helps a shaman. When your season comes, you’ll be shown everything you need. In the meantime, keep quiet and wait patiently!”
He kept looking the tent over and in the front corner, in the south-western side, saw a real shaman’s iconostasis. On it were mandalas which symbolically described the entire world. Saosh Yant made a low obeisance to them.
“These are the shaman’s icons!” he thought reverently. “I have heard of them many times, but it’s the first time I see them with my own eyes! The whole world, the entire Universe is in these pictures!”
His eyes fell on the gun that stood not far from the icons. “As if it defends the sacred place from uninvited guests and evil spirits,” he went on musing. “I should be more careful here.”
He shifted his gaze to the western side and saw a bed covered with a bearskin – the place of honor occupied by the master of the house.
“The western part of the dwelling, governed by the talkative, caring and benevolent Umai,” thought he. “The world of the present. Here, I heard, is the place of honor for the master of the house. One can have a good rest and regain strength. Here new children are conceived too. It’s no wonder for Umai is a symbol of fertility. It would be interesting to know how many children Kudai Kam has fathered. He’s never told me about that!”
But the next instant he became ashamed of himself.
“Quit that! What a shame!” he rebuked himself.
“Why, what’s so special about that? Every man has got children,” he thought the next moment. “There’s nothing wrong with this question. Anyway, is Kudai Kam potent or not?”
“No, stop it! Don’t stick your nose in!”
“How is he with women, I wonder?”
So the two parts were struggling in him: one awfully curious and the other modest and shy.
This went on until his eyes fell on the northern and north-eastern part of the tent, the female side of the dwelling. On the place which was ruled by Erlik. Saosh Yant saw dishes on the shelves, cooking pots and other housewares.
“It is quite symbolic,” he thought, “because Erlik is the memories of the past. Women mainly live on their memory and the knowledge they have already acquired. And in our world it is Erlik who is in charge of memories. All things, events and life phenomena go away to him. Our memory and everything that is connected with us will go away too. All our dreams, hopes, aspirations. And I will go there some day…”
He shook off the grievous thoughts and looked at the tableware once again.
“On the other hand, without all this we just couldn’t live,” he went on. “No memories means no roots. And without the roots our tree would fall. The world of the past is also necessary. If everything that is born and is created in this world remained in it, the world would become so crammed!”
He laughed imagining all things, objects, people, animals and God knows what else exist in overcrowded conditions, like in a crammed full cellar. Everyone is cramped there, unable to squeeze anywhere.
“Like in an overcrowded suburban train at the weekend,” he chuckled. ‘Let me through! This is my stop!’ – ‘Ah, you’re tearing off my pocket together with my arm!’ – ‘But let me through, will you?!’ – ‘Ouch!’ – ‘Get out of my way!’ – ‘Imbecile!’ – ‘You’re another!’ – ‘You moron!’ – ‘Go to hell!’… This is how we’d live in this world if it wasn’t for Erlik!”
He thought a little more, and then another funny picture leapt to his mind: because of the cram all the things begin to grow into each other. Such a close contact makes their surfaces “melt”, and the substances blend. As a result there is one useless, colorless jumble, and whatever comes to this world from the future, from Ülgen, inevitably gets into this mishmash.
“Ugh!” he shook himself like a dog shakes off water. “No! It’s a mercy we have Erlik! Cleanser of this world! Powerful and wise.”
He gave another glance around the dwelling and thought, “How harmoniously this dwelling is organized! Each thing is near at hand, in its place. The old-established order, which has never been disturbed. Everything has been reasonably planned. How far the man of today is from all this! And also this dwelling is very convenient: it can always be disassembled and transported at any moment. You are not confined to any place. You can easily move wherever you like. And the modern man? He gives up his WHOLE LIFE saving up for one apartment, trying to pay off the predatory mortgage loan, and after that he is uncertain of what may happen in the world or in his country. He might be dispossessed of this apartment by his relatives. Or worse still, his own children might take possession of it after starving him to death or locking him up in a nuthouse. There might be wars, disorders or floods. Anything. And the man has lived all his life in the stifling, infernal city. And what for? To earn the money for the single cell in a huge beehive? He has never seen a sunrise, nor heard the murmur of a brook, nor breathed the scent of grasses. He has lived a life of an office zombie or a dutiful workaholic, and what’s he got out of it? Only senility, illnesses, infirmity and death. NO!!! Our ancestors lived much better lives. They were a lot cleverer than us!!!”
His thoughts were interrupted by Kudai Kam’s voice:
“Looked around?” he asked with feeling.
“Yeah, I’m looking around little by little,” Saosh was startled a bit. “You’ve let me in for the first time.”
“The time has come,” Kudai Kam once again looked at the young man with his piercing eyes which made him feel uneasy. “You’re tired from your trip. Sit down by the fire. Have some food. And in the evening we’ll prepare the sweat lodge.”
