Let off Steam, Kazakh-Style

A play in two acts and six scenes

Main characters:

Komekbay is a farmworker, 44 to 45 years old.

Rysty is Komekbay’s wife, 42 to 43 years old.

Zibash is a young woman, saleswoman, about 35 years old.

Yermek is Komekbay’s neighbor, about 45 to 46 years old.

Alaydar is Komekbay’s classmate.

Zhanaydar is Alaydar’s son, a student of the 4^>th grade.

The district police officer, about 32 to 33 years old.

Act first

Scene No. 1

Afternoon. Komekbay comes back home from work. He strides, enters the porch of his old house, built of mudbrick, with a gray slate roof, heavily corroded by the sun and wind and having holes in some places. While crossing the threshold of the corridor, he accidentally kicks the samovar pipe, which was behind the door, and nearly falls down. The pipe flies several meters aside with a tin roar. The corridor hasn’t been tidied up today and it shows: there are two or three plastic washbasins of different sizes here and there, a crumpled water can with gobs of dirt on its sides, various shoes for going to the yard are scattered randomly. And the house that looks like this makes Komekbay, who is already irritated, even angrier. He can barely hold back from raging.

Komekbay. Why haven’t you tidied up yet?! And it’s always the same story. It’s like mayhem here! Total mess! Yrysty! Yrysty! I’m talking to you!.. Yrysty!

Komekbay leaves his shoes in the corridor, enters the inside of the house. The God-given Komekbay’s wife, Yrysty, lies on the sofa in the front room. Her face is slightly swollen, a colorful silk kerchief slid a little from the woman’s head to her neck.

Rysty. What happened?

Komekbay. Where have you been?

Rysty. What do you mean? I’ve been at home. I’ve just lain down to take a nap…

Komekbay. Eee, you’re always sleepy, you just can’t get enough sleep! Sleep is all you need. It’s already evening. When will have dinner?! Put the kettle on at least! Come over here, we need to talk…

Rysty. Alright, alright, say what you want to say…

Komekbay. Come closer, I said!..

Rysty. Oybay*, for God’s sake, I’m here!..

[*Oybay is an interjection of discontent.]

Komekbay. That’s it. We’re moving! Start to pack up. I’m fed up with this Kentup- Shitsville… the devil take it!.. We won’t stay here for another minute!..

Rysty. What are you talking about? Winter is coming, there will be frost soon!

Komekbay. What frost, a-a? It’s only the second of November today!..

Rysty. So what?! December will come with blizzards before you know it. It’s winter! Don’t you think so?!

Komekbay, who was hanging his jacket on the coatrack at that time, gets wide-eyed and casts a meaningful look at the woman.

Komekbay. When will you quit this stupid habit you have? As soon as I start a serious conversation, you start opposing me at once. You simply can’t act otherwise! Anyway!! Who is the man in this house – me or you?

Rysty. Oybay, you, of course, you are the man! What happened? Can you explain it so I could understand?!..

Pause. Komekbay catches his breath, goes all limp a little, steps up to the korpe * on the tor, sits downtailor fashion, sticking out his chest.

[*Korpe is Kazakh style blanket]

Komekbay. Is there any kozhe*?

[*Kozhe is cooled rice soup with kefir]

Rysty goes to the closet, pours rice kozhe from an enamel bucket into a bowl and brings it to her husband. When she gives a bowl to her husband, she keeps rolling her eyes, and carefully looks into her husband’s pupils, as if trying to find out something.