Turkmenistan

Turkmenistan is as if split into two realities, the first is about the history of the region and the people who live here. If you’re not a fan of history or anthropology, it’s not that Turkmenistan won’t be captivating, but of the seven days spent touring in Turkmenistan, ruins was a part of five days, and four were primarily ruins. I revelled in it, seeing the remnants of the wealth and downfall that followed the rise and fall of the Silk Road. How nomads conquered the desert, and how this country, now one of the least known in the world, was once home to some of the foremost cities and cultures of the world even if it wasn’t known as Turkmenistan. [Nisa, near Ashgabat](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nisa,_Turkmenistan), was an early capital of the [Parthian Empire](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parthian_empire), [Konye-Urgench](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Konye-Urgench) was once the capital of the [Achaemenid Empire](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Achaemenid), and [Merv](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merv) was in important city in several empires and Arab dynasties.

The other reality of Turkmenistan is the regime, a dictatorship that’s all show, and certainly carries out that line as long as you stay in the capital, Ashgabat. On arrival to a pompous looking soviet-style looking airport clad in thick slabs of smooth white marble, we were told that it’s *only* the temporary airport and will remain so until the main one is rebuilt, having been torn down to be made even more spectacular for the 2017 Asian Games (it’s a “thing” in Turkmenistan, tearing down buildings and rebuilding them in a more spectacular fashion). It sets the mood though, everything here is covered in white marble: Government buildings, the presidential palace, the vast amounts of private buildings for government workers, bus stops (all with a sealed room for A/C of course), even the city ferris wheel, naturally the largest in the world, just like the marble fountains, marble memorials, monuments, and just about everything that can be made to look impressive to a self-deceiving regime.

My encounters with true Turkmens were for the most part short: Simple communications with market vendors, a stop on the roadside with a family and friends out picking cotton, buying a large watermelon from a local boy, other visitors to religious sites, curious locals at the Darvaza crater (more on that soon), two shy local English teachers at an airport, and the (obligatory) guide. I’d be lying if I said that I got to understand the locals, or what their experience of living under such a dictatorship is like, but what I did meet was jovial people wary of foreigners (on suspicion of being journalists, threatening in the country with the 3rd least free press, barely ahead of North Korea and Eritrea). We stopped somewhere between Dashogouz and Konye-Urgench, by a cotton field, and after our guide ensured the locals that I’m not a journalist, we stayed for a while. Though I couldn’t talk to them, they opened up significantly when they learned that I’m not a journalist, and particularly when the youngest of the family, Artyk at nearly three, took a particular liking to me. Pretty soon they were showing me how to pick cotton, and the children were posing for photos, shouting to their friends to come and join us. Again, I can’t really comment on quality of life or freedom of thought, but it was a happy family that I met, who waved at our car until we were out of sight. It must be a hard job, hunched over all day long in the fierce sun, though I hope and expect that as you improve at cotton picking, that it hurts less and less (I never saw any of them wincing, as I did frequently). I will say though, that the mother of the family seemed like a fiercely strong person (that’s her in the top photo of this post), always keeping an eye on everyone, taking care of Artyk, making sure everyone pick properly, interrogated our guide, and was the first to let me take her photo after Artyk started climbing up my leg.

At the same time as the crazy government and the lovely people, all excavations, including the UN World Heritage sites, desperately lack funding with several excavations having come to a standstill entirely. This ties into the government and the national identity, as the two presidents since independence have continually tried to revive a national feeling tied into the country’s glorious past, publishing many works, and doing many, many photoshoots in traditional garb either in yurts or on Akhal-Teke horses (a national symbol), but spending the money on self-aggrandising projects (including their pockets), without the substance of slow-moving and less visible projects like archeology. The agricultural sector is suffering from a drought; most of Turkmenistan is desert and not arable, but during the soviet rule, the channels feeding the Aral Sea were redirected to water Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan, with disastrous consequences for the Aral Sea (it’s almost entirely gone, it was once one of the largest lakes in the world). With the water of the Aral Sea gone, the water that still flows into Turkmenistan is incredible saline (which is *not* good for crops), severely limiting the output of Turkmenistan’s agricultural sector, food and cash crops both. What about the marble though, does the quarrying create local jobs? No, all the marble is imported from Europe, just to get the right colour, sort of like in Apple Stores (Apple’s yearly revenue is ~4 times higher than Turkmenistan’s GDP, and Apple’s total market capitalisation is ~14 times higher). Don’t come here for the food either, it’s a mixture of Turkish food (Turkey generally is the ideal that Turkmenistan seems to strive for, economically and culturally) and Central Asian food, which can be very delicious in moderation as it’s rather monotonous; it’s just that the food here isn’t all that particular to Turkmenistan, I had much the same food in Xinjiang, except for the terrible bread they serve here (unlike in Xinjiang).

Turkmenistan *can* be a fascinating place, particularly if you *are* a history nut. The ruins are spectacular and the Silk Road almost comes alive in a way, that I never experienced in China where the ruins are either gone or over-touristed; here the ruins poke out of the sand, are excavated carefully and slowly, no kitsch restaurants, no fences to keep you at a distance; the ruins are genuine, and you’re allowed to get very close, in fact, nothing is stopping you from touching the ruins (indeed our guide told us horror stories about tourists breaking things thousands of years old). Ruins aside, I’d also come here solely for the strange and weird sights of Ashgabat and Darvaza, the first being the marble clad capital, so clean it puts Singapore to shame (you are obligated under law, to clean/wash your car before you enter the city), and the second being a large crater in the middle of the Karakum desert, the remains of where a gas mine collapsed in 1971 and the leaking gas was intentionally set on fire, and has been burning ever since.

The crater is an awe to behold, once your car goes over the last sand dune and down the last stretch, the most immediate change is a hole 65 metres across and 35 metres deep in the middle of the great flat planes of nowhere, where *something* ought to be, instead there’s a strange black hole, as if a great mouth had opened from below the sand<. The second impressions is an overwhelming smell of sulphur, much like rotting eggs, which you’ll realise is the only smell around here. If you walk far enough away from the hole, there’s no other smell, no diesel, asphalt, petrol, food, or other smells common to most places in Turkmenistan. If you turn around and walk closer to the hole, the wind starts picking up. The fire burns off so much oxygen that air is always rushing in to fill up the hole, creating a constant wind from all directions towards the hole, pulling it in like a central force of gravity. And finally, at the edge of the hole, the heat and the crackling of the fire surpasses all other perceptions for the first 30 seconds, after which the sulphur smell and the wind swell back into your mind, for an explosion of sensory input. It’s an overpowering experience, namely because it’s a new type of experience, the closest I remember is standing on the top of an active volcano, and that was not really anything like this, the volcano was sort of what I expected, whereas the crater is such a sudden and unexpected assault on the senses, even if you know what you’re headed to. Pitching your tent for a night’s sleep in the desert (at a safe distance due to the gas), the crater goes from being a *very* large hole on fire, to being a glowing crater, emanating a red light into the clear sky, surrounded by the penetrating darkness of a bare desert, a long way away from civilisation (except for a cup of tea brewed over a campfire).

I’ve touched briefly upon the ruins of Turkmenistan, mentioning [Nisa](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nisa,_Turkmenistan), [Konye-Urgench](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Konye-Urgench), and [Merv](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merv), which are the chief and primary sites, both in the quality of the findings, the historical significance of the sites, and the international recognition (they’re all on UNESCO’s list, and merit a special entrance fee). But my favourite site was [Gonur Depe](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gonur_Depe), a 4500 year old Bronze Age site, contested as one of the birthplaces of [Zoroastranism](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zoroastrian), the ground littered with pieces of pottery, originating from the many kilns at the site, all covered on the inside with 4500 year old slag, a byproduct from glazing pottery. Because Turkmenistan see such few tourists, and because even fewer go to a “minor” site like Gonur Depe, the archeological diggings are not covered up, and found items are not rushed away. Instead it felt like entering a workplace, where our guide brought the place to life, showing us ashes and charred rocks in ancient fire-pits that hadn’t been lit for millennia, how the ancient cisterns still underground, worked, and the graves in the necropolis next to the main site. Gonur Depe was abandoned for thousands of years, before being rediscovered circa 1990. This Bronze Age city died a slow death, as the river gradually moved farther and farther away, which is why it’s now found in the middle of the desert; an off-road drive on sand, along small streams, past wildly growing plants and bushes, with the occasional glimpse of desert animals.

Going to Turkmenistan is sort of like going to Myanmar, North Korea and many other dictatorships. When you go you’re (hopefully) aware that you’re supporting an oppressive regime, and that it’s not possible to visit without supporting it, though you can minimise your support in some countries (such as avoiding large government hotels and restaurants in Myanmar), and when you speak positively of your visit you’re encouraging other people to visit; this is exactly why [Aung San Suu Kyi](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aung_San_Suu_Kyi) once advised against tourists visiting Myanmar. If you can reconcile yourself with that, and you’re willing to learn more about a country or a culture, when you do go you have to be accepting of the country once you’re there, and not to harass the guide who will often have to push the country’s dogma. It seems minor, but no matter where we went our guide would constantly point everything out to the point of interrupting himself, because he had to point everything out, even when driving on a road we had driven down previously.

All this to say: The country is exceedingly interesting, particularly if you’re a history buff, as the greatness of this country lies firmly in its past. Even if you’re not a fan of history, the country has experiences to offer, such as the Darvaza crater and Ashgabat, which can easily fill the three days that an easy-to-get Transit Visa lasts, very useful as a side trip from Uzbekistan, Iran, or Azerbaijan (and potentially, Afghanistan). Be prepared, it’s unlike what you’ve seen before, and while Ashgabat may draw in some tourists, that’s exactly the point of it. But that’s not the whole story, like visiting North Korea, a big part of the story of my coming here, is a curiosity of seeing countries that are “apart” for some reason or another; it’s not like cracking a mystery, but more about seeing people that live in a different reality.
When this article can come across as negative, it’s because it’s easier to describe the what’s wrong with the country, than it is to describe the captivating aspects of Turkmenistan. While the ruins of the deserts, Darvaza, and Ashgabat are all extraordinary sights; all the things that are wrong with the country are equally interesting to experience, though more in a tragic vein. The only thing I would have wished for to be different was the bread (truly terrible).

*An interesting note**: The only marble construction in Ashgabat that’s actually decidedly beautiful, is the national headquarters of the French construction company, Bouygues, overseeing the marble constructions in the country. The rest range from ostentatious to Soviet, either ornamented to an extreme degree, or made solely from 90 degree angles, making faux pas at an imperial style.