THE ORATIONS OF CSERTAN OTROK: The Cənazə Üzlük

[Sweet Nerevarine 133]

Ambience Music

 

The following is an account, transcribed and then translated, by Fr. Laurenţiu Popescu-Voiteşti, during his missionary work among the Konchak tribes. Attached are pieces of Konchak art, contextually relevant to the contents of this document. 

     

     

 A TRANSCRIPTION OF THE ORATION OF VALIK SYTZIGAN QAN, CSERTAN OTROK

COLLATED BY FR. POPESCU-VOITESTI WITH AID FROM HIS DRAGOMAN BONIAK

 

9TH OF SIGISMUND'S END, IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1824

 

[A camp, typical of those on the outskirts of Konchak territory]

 

There we stood, far enough away so as to not intrude upon the ongoings of the Konchakian elders, yet close enough to bear witness to the commanding oration of the man they had come to hearken. They seemed to be some way through the conversation and our appearance was in no way harmonious with the beginning of the orator’s words.  He was of a royal clan, the royal clan, so said my esteemed dragoman Boniak. His Cənazə mask shon a striking beam of the sun’s brilliance into my eyes and when I did return my gaze, his eyes, though completely shrouded in darkness, pierced my very being. This is the man I speak of: a great prince of the orient; a man, who even with an unmoving, steel face, betokened his vivid expressions by way of word alone. He spoke the following.

 

How heavy it is for the tin to bear, my brothers, the sight of the qozi straying from the will of Ilah, zafer O'na olsun.

 

[The qozi he refers to are not the young-sheep for which the word directly translates, but the young men of his tribe]

 

 The affair of the Cənnət is wonderous, is it not? Indeed, did the Grand Qadi not say to us ‘All is good which is done by the Cənnət, all that he is given is good.’ All the many tribulations of our tribes have been borne with ebullience, for all that is given to us by Ilah, zafer O’na oslun, is good. 

 

At this, he gestured with an outstretched hand toward the tribesmen who wandered by the far away yurts.

 

They wear the Cənazə üzlük not as a crown; Ilah, zafer O'na olsun, did not reward us as he did Harremin with a crown; the Cənazə üzlük is hot and bothersome; they wear the Cənazə üzlük like a cage, and yet I  am still proud to bear my own. It still brings my heart much pleasure to adorn it in the quiet of my tent, for all that is given to the Cənnət is good. Never shall a man such as this...

 

At which he did gesture dismissively and briefly toward myself.

 

...gode me to besully my tribe’s oath to Ilah, zafer O'na olsun. Yet, I see the qozi go without the Cənazə üzlük for this very reason! Those who call our people Konchak, Khartes, or ljósvány; these people do not understand the penance we bear. 

 

Such an ignorance has indeed befallen our own qozi: led astray in a mere moment by the outsiders for whom we hold no hate, but for whom we are forced to wage inner-Cihat against, for the sake of our oath to  Ilah, zafer O’na oslun. 

 

In the land of the stone yurt, it takes but one moment to break our oath, brothers. A qazi demands the qozi to remove his Cənazə üzlük; we have seen this many times, brothers, many times...  

 

...The qozi yearn to be accepted in these lands, fall astray, long for the gaze of another upon the manglek; not that which was forged by temirci; they wish to be seen in the teri beneath the warmth of the sari. They tell me... The qozi, they tell me:

 

[It should be noted: manglek is the Konchak word for the upper face, they have no such word for the entire face, but this being the holder of the eyes is of importance; a temicri is a steel smith, responsible with the creation of the Cənazə mask; teri is the Konchak word for skin, and is an intimate, powerful word for the horsemen]

 

 ‘Great Otrok… The sari burns too much… Surely Ilah would not mind if I were to forgo üzlük for a little while?’

 

[Sari: sun; also the colour gold]

 

‘Otrok… It is not my burden, it is not my father’s father’s father’s burden to wear üzlük…’

 

At this the crowd of elders descended into a flurry of grumbles, grunts, tuts, and groans; a geriatric opera of discontent.

 

They do not know the great good that  Ilah, zafer O’na oslun has done for our tribes! How is a man to prove himself worthy of Cənnət if he has no struggles? Struggles are a blessing, the üzlük is a blessing. Let us never forget!

 

The small crowd became invigorated by these particular words. Though all far outpacing myself in seniority, they outstretched their arms and celebrated with the energy of younger men. There was, for a brief moment as the fever simmered away, the menace of a few grimaced looks toward myself and my dragoman, the latter of whom some Konchaks had taken to loathing for his service to me. Nevertheless, the orator continued to speak.

 

[Two young Konchaks, depicted without the üzlük.]

So too, I hear, are the sisters led astray! I heard; by way of brother Kül-bey Koten son of Eldechyuk, who had heard from Yarguci Kül-bey Kopti, who himself had heard with good reliability from Kül-bey Chilbuk son of Kza; that a small number of sister of the Kül-bey have taken up husbands from the north and shed their üzlük too! 

 

Shame… Brothers, shame… Surely Ilah, zafer O’na oslun, will see that we, the Cənnət, may set our house in order. 

 

A new age of the Kadaksleri is most certainly upon us, brothers. Surely these times of cihat will test our commitment to Ilah, zafer O’na oslun, and show who among us are truly of the Cənnət. An inner-cihat against the enticement of men who do not share our blessing of sufferance, Maşallah.

 

There was muttered prayer among the elders at this; even those passing by joined in with this ritualistic whispering, despite having looked disinterested, or perhaps avoidant out of respect, prior. There was a great calming of the camp's atmosphere and all at once I felt at ease also. Their foreign tongue was no consolation to me, but their seeming slip into a docile, primitive religiosity certainly put my mind at ease. The orator continued, giving something of a closing prayer.

 

[A depiction of outcast women, walking maskless under the sun]

Rejoice children of AL'IIMAN MUTAHAWIR for you have pillars that will never be broken! zafer O’na oslun, forgive me if I have said anything wrong. zafer O’na oslun, bless all of us, İnşallah. Liberate us from our vices, İnşallah. Sag olun... Salamlar, brothers.

 

 And at this the elders and the orator said their farewells, then left each for their own direction. These esteemed men then began to blend in with the common-denomination of the camp, and fade away from our view among their fellow tribesmen.