"One of the least known and most dangerous sports of modern the Persian world, Buzkashi is played only in Tajikistan and Afghanistan around the festivities of New Ruz, or Persian New Year on March 21st. The sport is played much like Polo, though in place of a ball and mallet there is a sheep carcass and bare hands; not to mention an utter lack of propriety. A few dozen mounted horses participate in the game, their riders all men from the area competing for the spoils of victory; a prize awarded by the city itself, usually a car, cow, or pair of goats. Each man fends for himself; though sometimes alliances are formed by promises of a share in the winnings. The animal carcass must be obtained by a horseman amid the fray of slashing whips, stomping hooves, and an impossible tangle of legs, arms, and limbs and then carried in hand at a gallop to the goal located in a high corner of the packed dirt arena. Men have been known to lose their lives in such a struggle. However, it is not only the players and their mounts whose lives are in peril. An audience of strictly men circles the entire arena, concentrated around the goal; they sit on their haunches ready to spring to their feet and out of the path of the stampeding horses. This is one spectator sport where daydreaming is a dangerous gamble. Myself, one of the only women to attend such an event, was nearly trampled by a wayward set of horses taking a shortcut through the crowd toward the goal. The above demonstrates the moment when the mangled query is dropped by the leading horseman, causing a sudden halt of his pursuers who quickly reach down from their saddles to retrieve the carcass and run it in themselves for victory."Monday, August 10, 2009
Buzkashi
"One of the least known and most dangerous sports of modern the Persian world, Buzkashi is played only in Tajikistan and Afghanistan around the festivities of New Ruz, or Persian New Year on March 21st. The sport is played much like Polo, though in place of a ball and mallet there is a sheep carcass and bare hands; not to mention an utter lack of propriety. A few dozen mounted horses participate in the game, their riders all men from the area competing for the spoils of victory; a prize awarded by the city itself, usually a car, cow, or pair of goats. Each man fends for himself; though sometimes alliances are formed by promises of a share in the winnings. The animal carcass must be obtained by a horseman amid the fray of slashing whips, stomping hooves, and an impossible tangle of legs, arms, and limbs and then carried in hand at a gallop to the goal located in a high corner of the packed dirt arena. Men have been known to lose their lives in such a struggle. However, it is not only the players and their mounts whose lives are in peril. An audience of strictly men circles the entire arena, concentrated around the goal; they sit on their haunches ready to spring to their feet and out of the path of the stampeding horses. This is one spectator sport where daydreaming is a dangerous gamble. Myself, one of the only women to attend such an event, was nearly trampled by a wayward set of horses taking a shortcut through the crowd toward the goal. The above demonstrates the moment when the mangled query is dropped by the leading horseman, causing a sudden halt of his pursuers who quickly reach down from their saddles to retrieve the carcass and run it in themselves for victory."
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I loved hearing you talk about this game-- although I think my Mom was marginally disgusted by the prospect of such a thing. :) I can't imagine a sport such as this one being very quickly adopted into the Western norm.
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