An autumn of vows

Kumusi Yesdawulti grew up with the whisper of the wind across Qiongkushitai, a pastoral village hidden in the depths of the Tianshan Mountains in Tekes county, Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region.

The vast expanse of the prairie was her playground, a boundless companion throughout childhood. After graduating from the Turpan Vocational Technical College, she returned to her hometown of Tekes. It was there, in 2024, that she met Bukehan Yelszi, a young man whose life was intertwined with the rhythm of hoofbeats through his work with a horse trekking service for tourists.

Though a man of the new generation, Yelszi's soul is rooted in the old ways — attentive, hardworking and deeply devoted to home and family. It was this blend of strength and gentleness that won Yesdawulti's heart, and their love story began to unfold against the backdrop of the majestic grasslands.

They chose to marry in autumn in the traditional way this year, when the air is crisp and the land painted in shades of amber and gold. The wedding was to be a journey, starting from Yesdawulti's family home in the winter pasture, and culminating in Yelszi's home village, a traditional wedding celebration stretching across the very land that shaped them.

The morning air was chilly and scented with earth and distant snow. Inside her home, the bride changed into a vibrant red gown. Her relatives and friends helped her fasten her delicate silver jewelry and placed upon her head an elaborately embroidered cap.

Then came the ritual of the bride's weeping. The elder relatives gathered around her, their voices rising in melodic lament — songs of sorrow at her leaving, interwoven with blessings for her new life.

When it was time to leave, her elder brother led a horse, its bridle adorned with tassels and silver. He helped his younger sister onto the saddle, and with him walking steadfastly beside her, she began her journey away from her childhood home.

The steed carried her, a splash of red against the boundless green and gold, for a short, symbolic distance. Then, in a seamless blend of epochs, she dismounted and stepped into a wedding car, its windows decorated with flowing ribbons and flowers, ready to carry her the rest of the way to her new life.

By midday, they wound their way into the groom's village. They were greeted by a joyous, moving symphony. Three musicians — one with a dombra (a two-stringed plucked instrument), one with an accordion, and one with a guitar — walked ahead, their instruments creating a unique harmony of nomadic melody and modern chords. They sang welcoming songs, escorting Yesdawulti on foot to the courtyard of Yelszi's home.

As dusk fell, a modern outdoor wedding ensued in a nearby forest park. The couple shared champagne, danced beneath the trees, and celebrated with family, friends, and even curious visitors drawn by the music and laughter. Joy lingered long into the night, warm and unbroken.

"With horses and automobiles, the wedding is really special and lively," the bride smiles.