I was told that there are three significant events in an Uzbek person’s life: when one is born, when one is married, and when one bears children. Luckily, I will be able to witness first hand, an Uzbek wedding – from the inside. My host-brother’s “to’y” (wedding) will take place next Tuesday. Preparations have already been proceeding apace, and I will be part of the whirlwind of activities leading up to, and after the big event.
What surprised me about this wedding is that I had not even heard about him getting married until about two weeks ago, when my host-sisters kept mentioning “huddo hollassa” (god willing) we will have a wedding for my brother in two weeks. I thought, hmmmm, I must be translating incorrectly or they must be joking – he doesn’t even have a girlfriend. Well, I guess I wasn’t listening attentively enough during cultural training when they told us that most marriages in Uzbekistan are arranged. Apparently, my host-parents had arranged with the bride-to-be’s parents that she and my host-brother will get married some time in May. Back in March, my host-brother had gone to Ferghana to meet his proposed future-wife for the first time, after which he consented to the wishes of his parents and agreed to marry her. He won’t even get to see her again until their wedding day. He is 27 and she is 18.
Uzbek women are expected to get married around the age of 18 or 19. If she is 20 years or older and not married, there is a lot of social pressure on her and the family. The neighbors will “mish-mish” (gossip) about how ‘old’ she is getting and why her parents haven’t married her off yet. Girls begin to get proposals from boys’ families at 18, and if she refuses too many boys, then they will stop calling on her and she is less likely to get married at all. At some point, the parents will pressure and force a marriage on a girl who is getting too ‘old’. And right after they are married, the girl is expected to conceive the first born within a year!
Once married, tradition dictates that the “keilin” (sister/daughter-in-law; wife) goes to live with the husband’s family. The keilin is typically the wife of the eldest son, as younger boys move out of the house with their wives. From my observation in two previous host-families, the keilin essentially becomes the house-slave. She is expected to do everything – before anyone has to ask for it to be done. Sisters will sometimes help, but the pressure is on her to perform and the responsibility is hers no matter who else is around to lend a hand. Most keilins are not allowed to continue with their studies, or to work. The two keilins in my old host-families rarely left the house. The mother-in-law is often the one that goes to market, and the husband or father-in-law takes care of whatever else is needed outside of the home. The keilin is always “oi-da” (at home).
Of course, as Uzbekistan modernizes there are exceptions to what I have just described above. As a matter of fact, there have always been exceptions to this among the Russians in Uzbekistan, for reasons of their differences in religious and ethic heritage, in addition to their more ‘westernized’ culture. However, this tradition is still very prominent among the majority of the population and poses a huge chasm between modern Uzbek girls and their families today. I assume that most of them concede due to familial and societal pressure, and that some of them adjust, take root as their mothers had done in their new lives. But I get the feeling that some girls are beginning to assert themselves, say ‘no’, continue their education, go out to work, and pave the way for their daughters to never have to do the same. Indeed, I have been able to observe this rift with tradition first hand – having been a sympathetic ear to several keilins, a confidant to a girl who only wants to marry for love, a colleague to strong, independent women at my NGO, and a tutor to a thirteen year old girl who wants to conquer the world. I’m proud to have known all of them for their strength, courage and determination, and look forward to the difference they will make in the lives of the next generation of Uzbek women.
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