撒玛尔罕《撒拉尔:舌尖上的词语密码》

Flames burn with an intensity and destructiveness that is universally known. Yet, in the lives of the Salars, the word "Otkama" (a metaphorical term in their language meaning "like a flame") transforms fire into dazzling beauty, clean elegance, an expression of hatred, and a sharp sword.

One autumn, I drove to Xinhua for my cousin's housewarming celebration. The land of the Salars lies at the foot of the small Jishi Mountain on the edge of the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau. Here, the Yellow River, originating from the Bayan Har Mountains, rushes down like galloping horses, with manes flying and hooves kicking, roaring and spilling over. The Salars live on both sides of this river. Like most rural northern households, their villages are earth-wood structures facing south, warm in winter and cool in summer, spacious and bright, beloved by the Salars.

On that day, many gathered to celebrate the new home. Relatives of similar age discussed the latest house’s foundation, the dozens of flower troughs, and the carpenters' carving skills in the yard. Thumbs raised in admiration, voices exclaimed, "Otkama, Otkama." This word, familiar from childhood, was used whenever men saw something beautiful or praiseworthy. This praise, neither exaggerated nor overly modest, has been passed down from our ancestors like a refreshing summer spring. They say it when admiring a beautiful woman, a stunning landscape, excellent craftsmanship, houses and bridges, even a sharp knife or a lofty mountain. Everything beautiful or angular is always associated with flames.

"What is the word 'Otkama' really?" I wondered. Where does it originate? A sense of inexplicable confusion welled up in me like a mystery.

At another wedding, young men deliver gifts and recite the "Nikah" (Salar wedding vows), discussing the bride's beauty, with "Otkama" bursting from their lips. Observing their expressions when they utter this word reveals overflowing happiness, envy from the heart, unique shyness, and a mysterious understanding, all blooming on their faces. A complex, uncontrollable, youthful passion radiates from their eyes and mouths.

The flame that springs from the lips, "Otkama," has always burned high in human history, illuminating the path of every nation since ancient times. In Greek mythology, Zeus sought revenge against Prometheus for refusing to spread fire to humans, attempting to keep them in darkness. Prometheus cleverly found a fennel stalk, reached it into the sun's chariot, and brought the flickering flame back to the world, benefiting humanity. Ancient Turks believed that fire was the creation of the god of all things and the embodiment of their ancestors' strength. They saw fire as a sacred power that protected humanity's survival and reproduction. When Xuanzang passed through the Western Regions in the early 7th century, he recorded, "The king and the people do not believe in Buddhism, but worship fire," documenting the Turks' fire worship. The Mongols believed all things are purified by fire, passing gifts between two fires to indicate purification and avoid evil. Kazakhs sprinkle butter or mutton fat into a stove during weddings, taking flames as a sign of good luck. Tajiks light reeds at festival entrances, singing praises to the fire and dancing fire dances.

Fire brings light and heat to humanity. The god of light, happiness, purity, and kindness is the source of strength that dispels darkness and evil. To the Salars, fire is the purest, most beautiful gaze, the spring that cleanses all dirt, the beautiful and dignified bride, and the sharp hatred and anger that devours and destroys in a fury.

When a tall, fashionable woman with flowing long hair and a blush of shyness leaps gracefully from an alleyway, covering her mouth with a veil, young men exclaim, "Ah, such a fiery woman!" This flame is beautiful, chaste, youthful, a passionate leopard leaping into a man's heart, a refreshing spring nourishing his soul, or a longed-for drizzle of rain, a pursuit of desire. When encountering a well-crafted, skillfully sculpted house, men say, "A fiery house." This flame is dignified and admirable, praising the artisan's craftsmanship and the owner's elaborate design and hard work.

The Salar people admire a sharp knife blade as a flame and describe a man's hateful, angry gaze as a spraying flame. Faced with intractable problems, they say they hold a flame in their palms. When disaster strikes, or disputes arise, they say someone has a flame lit on their head, a form of mockery in the daily lives of Kazakh, Tajik, and Uyghur groups.

Yes, it is related to the Turks and ancient Turkic people.

I recall the distant history, and the story of the Salar ancestors must begin from Samarkand, the heart of the Eurasian continent.

The history of Samarkand traces back to the 5th century BC when Sogdian merchants built it into a splendid capital. The Sogdians infused Samarkand with brilliant culture and art, believing in Zoroastrianism and worshipping fire. They carved vivid art into murals, gradually embedding their beliefs and culture into the surrounding ethnic groups. The Salar people's respect for fire is deeply connected to Sogdian influence. Whether the Salar ancestors worshipped fire or not, Zoroastrianism spiritually influenced them.

We often gathered in alleyways at night as a child to play games. After dinner, the lead child would sing an ancient folk song: "Little friends, come quickly, today's players will get a pair of shoes, tomorrow's players will get a pair of socks, come quickly..." We collected tree branches or dry grass and rags, piled them together, set them on fire, and jumped over the flames. Alternatively, we started a bonfire on the threshing ground, gathering to tell stories and sing ballads about migration, heroes, love, and fire. Afterwards, we stood in front of the kang (a traditional heated bed) to be smoked by the fire, driving away evil spirits before entering the house to sleep. This thousand-year-old rule was a contract with fire that the Salar remembered from childhood.

Fire was also used to drive away evil spirits and call back souls. I once witnessed an exorcism. A classmate started screaming hysterically after bringing back oily cake and meat from a relative. Her mother quickly lit rags and old shoes and smoked her face while chanting scriptures, saying, "A little smoke will make her better." Indeed, she recovered the next day. I also experienced soul-calling. As a pale, thin child, my grandmother lit my worn-out clothes, chanted, and dragged the smoking rags to my kang. She said, "Only when the soul returns can you grow stronger."

The Salar people never discard food or sustenance into sacred flames, seeing it as blasphemy and disrespect. They never urinate or pour unclean things into the fire, as it's considered contempt for fire and pollution of cleanliness. To the Salar people, fire is always clean and pure. It burns away sin, evil thoughts, and the most beautiful cognition and wishes into poetic dreams and ideal realms, referring to the most beautiful things as "Otkama."

Otkama is the cleanest word in the Salar language.