of the oven. It turns out that in the hassle he forgot to change the names of the people who he wrote down as having different nationalities. “Hey, what kind of Eskimo is that? What kind of Shurshit?” Shouted the employees of the department, completely drowning out Sepentai. The dzhigits, whose names were called out by him, were there with their wives, children, and other relatives. And when one of them was called a Shurshit, another an Eskimo, and the third a Pashto, not to mention other people, their wives made an incredible noise. “Hey, comrade opraulaish*!” Shouted the wife of the proclaimed Shurshit, Temirbek. “You will not disgrace my husband like that, not only is he not a Shurshit, but he has never seen one in his entire life. He is a Kazakh! And not only is he a Kazakh, but his great-grandfathers are Otrar Konrats who fought with Genghis Khan, within the Konrats are the Kulshygash, within the Kulshygash are the Taz, within the Taz are the Bori, within the…” “You shouldn’t divide the Kazakhs into clans and tribes like that,” the bewildered Pashat muttered out of place, biting his reddened lips. But then the wife of the Eskimo and the wife of the Pashto, raised their voices at once, and the solemn meeting turned into a noisy gathering. The chairman of the collective farm, realizing that this noise and uproar could last forever, stepped forward: “Patience, comrades, patience!” He raised his hand. “Let the named comrades come forward, and we will see with our own eyes who they really are. “They are the department workers we see every day. Why should they come forward?” “Let them step forward anyway. Jzhigits, where are you? Come on, come forward!” And when the Eskimo, Sagyntai, the Pashto, Ergeshbai and the Shurshit, Temirbek, came to the centre of the circle, the people burst into uncontrollable laughter. “Traitors!” One tipsy Jzhigit shook his fist at them. “They sold their nationality for thirty coins. But me, I stepped down, I said: ‘Even if I have to be unemployed and collect beetles in the steppe for the rest of my life, I will still remain a Kazakh.’ But now we saw with our own eyes what we heard! And I was wondering what this all was about, and now I know, why these men smiled so widely that their
*opraulaish – a corrupted/misleading manager]