Discover the surprising journey of a language learner who started with children's tales and uncovered the rich nuances of a beautiful tongue. From playful debates over beloved characters ...

Of course, I wanted to start with a favorite novel, such as "Blood and Sweat" by Abidzhamil Nurpeisov, but unfortunately, by the time I reached the age of forty-three, I only knew about two hundred words in the Kazakh language, so I had to begin with the simplest children's tales.

Gradually, I progressed to small newspaper articles, and I always read aloud to practice my spoken language. Often, colleagues or close friends gather around me, sometimes debating words that leave me in doubt, confusion, or admiration, assisting me in my desire to learn the language.

I remember when I first started my "career as a Kazakh-speaking Russian lady," I read the tale "Kolobok" from a children's book that featured the story in both Russian and Kazakh. One of my colleagues was indignant that Kolobok was referred to as Baurysak in the book.

– "Tоқаш" is the correct term! – she was sure.

I specifically checked the dictionary, where the word "тоқаш" translated to Russian as pretzel, bagel, bun, flatbread, and loaf. I just couldn’t imagine Kolobok as a pretzel. So he remained Baurysak for me. The next day, I watched an educational video for preschoolers online, and there the teacher referred to the fairy tale character as Тоқаш. Well, what a surprise!

Life in Kazakh-language content gradually became more interesting for me. I remember when I worked at a city newspaper in Kyzylorda, five editors and journalists tried to explain to me how to say correctly – "tünge qaray tamak ishmeymin" or "tünge qaray tamak zhemeymin." It turns out the first option is correct, and there’s a whole philosophy behind it. The Kazakh word "жеу" is not the same as the Russian word "кушать," which means to consume food. The word "жеу" should be used when referring to food that needs to be chewed. Meanwhile, tamak ishu is a whole ritual when dishes are accompanied by beverages during lunch or dinner. In a good Kazakh family, a leisurely evening meal typically starts with a bowl of tea and ends with it as well.

Sometimes my understanding of the Kazakh language was turned upside down when I discovered that one object or phenomenon could be called by different names. How can something so simple have several names? For instance, the Russian word "микрорайон," which I often encountered in Kazakh-language press, was referred to as "шағын аудан," "микроаудан," "ықшам аудан," and "мөлтек аудан." Which one is the correct name?

By the way, those around me always support my desire to know more, although, of course, when you're over fifty, your memory capabilities diminish.

– You know, when I leave classes, my speech apparatus hurts, – one colleague confessed to me, who decided to take language courses at the age of 50. – Some phrases are so hard to grasp. But I learned to pronounce the longest word in the Kazakh language – "қанағаттан-дырылмағандықтарыңыздан," as well as the most difficult one – "залалсыздандыру," and I’m very proud of myself.

I was also very pleased with myself when I discovered a remarkable feature of the Kazakh language. Kazakhs are people of delicate emotional organization, as they have so many words for love. They talk about love not only with the familiar term "махаббат," known throughout the Turkic world, but also with words like "сүйіспендік," "сүйіспеншілік," "әуестік," "ынтықтық," "нәпсі," "ғашықтық," "іңкәрлік," and "құмарлық."

And of course, I was shocked by the term of endearment "бауырым." What does the liver have to do with it?! What a gastronomic mix! A familiar philologist explained that in Kazakh philosophy, the liver is akin to the heart for a Slavic person. Russians say "my dear heart," while Kazakhs say "бауырым."

– Moreover, during the times of great wars, the liver was considered the most vulnerable spot of a warrior, – my acquaintance told me. – A wound from a spear or arrow to the liver was always fatal. And our dear ones are our vulnerable links. No matter how tough a person may be, they always have a "бауырым" – a very dear relative or a close friend.

What I find very appealing is that there are very few swear words in the Kazakh language. Once, I bought a dictionary for professionals at a flea market, which collected swear words and spicy phrases used by people in 67 English-speaking countries. This dictionary was three centimeters thick. As someone who wants to speak Kazakh correctly, including in non-standard situations, I started looking for sources that would tell me about obscene or at least spicy Kazakh words. It turns out there is no separate dictionary for such expressions at all. On the Internet, there’s a handful of popular articles for tourists in the series "how Kazakhs swear." They provide about twelve phrases as examples. In Wikipedia, the section on "Kazakh obscene vocabulary" lists only nine words. How delightful it is to study a language that has practically no profanity…