Turkmenistan, a country that continues to baffle us, is a testament to the resilience of its people. Despite a government that instills fear, where public socializing is a risk, high school girls face mandatory virginity tests at school, and corruption is rampant, the Turkmen people's innate kindness and hospitality shine through. Wherever we found ourselves, the people were welcoming and friendly. We explored this vast country with an open mind and a willingness to engage - but we couldn’t help feeling discouraged for the people we met along the way.
Picking up where I left off in the last blog post, our ongoing travels took us from the Darwaza Gas Crater to Dashoguz City, where we embarked on an overnight train back to Ashgabat. But not before we marveled at the holy site of Kunya Urgench, a UNESCO Heritage Site that houses several small mosques, temples, and the world’s tallest minaret. This structure has withstood the test of time, surviving brutal wars (including a battle with Ghengis Khan) and earthquakes for millennia.
Upon our arrival, we noticed a family of four dressed in traditional attire. We learned from our guide that the older couple, probably the young man’s parents, were there to witness the young couple praying for a first child. We watched from a distance as they circled the buildings, pausing to kiss the walls and pray at specific intervals, a ritual that spoke volumes about their faith and traditions.
Our observations led us to a unique Turkmen custom. The young woman we saw had drawn the edge of her headscarf across her mouth, not in the style of a Hajib but holding it with her hand as a barrier against speaking out loud. Our guide, Natalia, explained that in many tribes, a young wife can only speak directly to her in-laws once she bears a child. She may discreetly talk to her husband, who determines what he will 'translate' to his parents. And even after childbirth, communication is limited. This was a fascinating insight into the customs of Turkmenistan.
In the very modern city of Dashoguz, we stopped at a restaurant for the best meal of the trip! The Baytown Grill would have been right at home in Southern California. Once again, this country is hard to fathom.
We enjoyed a leisurely meal since we had plenty of time to get to the station and settle into the spacious overnight cabin we would share with Natalia. It was a good thing we got along so well, and we would gladly forgive her for any mishaps along the way - because the overnight train plan came off the tracks.
We arrived for a 7:20 pm departure and dragged our bags to what we thought was our sleeper car. Or what would have been our car if we’d caught the 6:00 pm train - apparently the one we were booked on. Somewhere along the line, the train times on our itinerary had been changed, but because cell service in Turkmenistan is curtailed, Natalia wasn’t updated. When we tried to board, the conductor looked at our tickets and gave us a firm “Nyet ."The car (and the train) was fully booked. This wasn’t good. But after a few minutes of clandestine negotiation with the station master, Natalia returned all smiles and invited us to climb aboard. We would have a “slight change in accommodations," in a good way, in that we would have a double-berth cabin for ourselves. Natalia was vague on where she would be bunking down.
We did notice our new cabin looked a little “lived in” with some personal effects around and a rumpled bottom bunk - but we were happy to be heading back to Ashgabat. Once again, a bottle of red wine, my purloined wine glasses, fat doner kababs for dinner, and coconut Bounty Bars for dessert helped the situation.
Soon, Natalia joined us in our crowded quarters and explained what had happened. When she realized we had missed our original train reservation, she went into “Turkmen Mode” to see how she could mitigate the situation—a.k.a. how much she would have to pay to get her tourists on this train!
We will never know, but it must have been significant since the conductor gave up his private cabin and slept on the floor (I know because I had to step over him at 4:00 am on the way to the loo) and we also had access to his private bathroom. It turned out that Natalia slept sitting upright in the next car with other train staff.
When we arrived in Ashgabat almost 13 hours later, we joined the throngs of passengers trying to get off the train and across several tracks to the main road - some used the narrow stairs and the overpass, others just streamed across the tracks and climbed up the other side! Our new driver extracted us from the crowd and whisked us away.
Oddly, we had breakfast at the gargantuan Wedding Palace (also known as The Palace of Somber Events). It's not your usual breakfast venue, that’s for sure. And once again, we were the only guests in a vast dining room. This glitzy tribute to holy matrimony is one of the most iconic of Ashgabat's monuments. It holds at least half a dozen wedding venues (one of which can hold 1,000 guests), shops, and catering facilities. We dined here because the owner of our tour company, Owadan Tourism has the catering rights to this place.
After breakfast, we were scheduled to visit a few sites in Ashgabat, including the National Museum, Ancient Nissa, and the Turkmenbashi Mosque. However, Natalia got a call from Owadan's “Headquarters” and was directed to bring us straight to the office after breakfast. We were both nervous—Natalia because she was sure the train incident had been reported, and us because our final payment hadn’t gone through. Luckily, the boss just wanted to meet The Senior Nomads and show off his operation.
We had a cordial visit, with poor Natalia as the nervous translator. We discovered that his company, Owadan Tourism, does business with MIR Travel out of Seattle, our hometown. He is one of just three tour operators in Turkmenistan - a privilege he takes seriously and no doubt “nurtures” continually. There is a small museum in the office where we tried on traditional garb and had some photo ops. Neither the train episode or the lingering payment came up. Eventually, the money made it into their bank!
From there, we toured the National Museum with a very robotic guide. You were not going to get this woman off script. The content was carefully curated for visitors, and anything that didn’t glorify the republic, past or present, was not on display. However, there were plenty of interesting relics, including dinosaur footprints!
Next up was Ancient Nisa, a Parthian Fortress from the 3rd Century B.C. It is a UNESCO Heritage site, but there is no signage or explanation, so again, it took a stretch of imagination to picture in its former glory. The highlight was Natalia and our driver surprising us in the parking lot with cake and a Coca-Cola toast for our 45th Wedding Anniversary.
We had just enough time to stop at the Turkmenbashi Ruhy Mosque and Mausoleum—supposedly the largest mosque in Central Asia. It was stunning, of course, but other than guards and gardeners, there was not another soul in sight. We were still determining if we could enter when a kind guard unlocked the door. The interior was sedate but dazzling, with a dome that was an intricate kaleidoscope of blues and gold tile work.
Then, we were off to catch a flight to Turkmenbashi City on the Caspian Sea. Now that we’d recovered from our middle-of-the-night arrival, we could appreciate both the exterior and interior of one of the most beautiful airports in the world/places-to-visit/ashgabat-and-around/ashgabat-international-airport.
The flight to Turkmanbashi was easy. We would spend the night at a hotel and be ready for an early morning 250-mile drive to the Yangikala Canyons. We met a few fellow travelers traveling with our tour company at breakfast. We met them at stops along the way, including a small village where the locals insisted we dance at a feast and take pictures. Once we all reached the canyon, we enjoyed a communal lunch.
The vast landscape was spectacular and stretched for 15 miles. The coral-colored walls and sea creature fossils indicate it was once part of the ocean. Very few Turkmen have seen this natural wonder, and we appreciated the chance to experience it—but we didn’t stay long. We were leaving for the Gozli-Ata Pilgrim Site and then on to the city of Kyzylarwat. The rest of the group was camping overnight in the canyon. It was cold and windy up there, and we were still feeling the effects of our Yurt stay, so we were thankful our itinerary included a hotel, regardless of the quality.
Gozli-ata is one of Turkmenistan's most important religious destinations; our visit there was another highlight. A modest mosque houses a relic from the 14th-century Sufi teacher Gozli-Ata (All-Seeing Father), and many people make the trek to worship and bury loved ones in the rambling, windswept burial grounds. This was a very eerie but spiritual place.
We learned some of the customs around funerals and burials in this country. As Natalia told it, the deceased is wrapped in colorful cloth shortly after death and carried into the cemetery on two long planks. They are buried in the ground or entombed, and the planks are left behind. Instead of flowers, at least at this site, mourners tie colorful headscarves to the grave marker and then carefully back away - never turn your back on a new grave! Turkmen usually don’t return to visit the gravesite of loved ones.
If you like long car trips on variegated road surfaces, with the occasional camel caravan or herds of goats for distraction, Turkmenistan could be your country! Our drive back to Ashgabat for one final night took over eight hours. Along the way we stopped at Nokhur Village, which is located high in the mountains (and perhaps where Noah parked his ark). It is famous for woven silk fabrics and also for its relative independence from the oppressive government—maybe because it is an ultra-conservative enclave.
The best part of our return journey was a bountiful grilled lunch at Kow-Ata Underground Lake. We could have climbed 800 stairs to the sulfur-infused waters for a swim. Or not.
Instead, we were entertained by a boisterous wedding party that pulled in for photo ops and cold beverages. The cars were ornately decorated, and the attendees were, too. The bride was covered in a 65-pound heavily embroidered "gown” and a headdress with thick fringe that hid her face. She would wear this the entire day—and it was hot!
Finally, we were on the home stretch, and the roads improved exponentially as we approached Ashgabat. About five miles out, we pulled over and had the car washed by one of dozens of young men with buckets and sponges along the roadside. Remember, you cannot enter the capital city with a dirty car. And that car better be white!
We asked Natalia if we could swing by and see the marble-encased Ferris Wheel before we were dropped off at the hotel. Of all the monuments, this one fascinated me the most. Why would you spend millions of dollars creating a Ferris Wheel where the view is obstructed? To get in the Guinness Book of World Records for building the world's tallest indoor Ferris wheel, of course! And that pretty much summarizes the mentality of the men behind the marble curtain.
We are so glad we visited this quirky, politically incorrect, and hard-to-fathom country where we met many delightful people.
However, we are equally happy to be sitting in our comfortable rental home in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, where we can contemplate it unrestricted. I appreciate that you made it to the end of this long post! Gracias.
Thanks for following along,
Debbie and Michael Campbell
The Senior Nomads