Oregon Trail Dysentery in Turkmenistan: A Cautionary Tale

Oct 11

Oct 11 Oregon Trail Dysentery in Turkmenistan: A Cautionary Tale

Part Five of a Five Country Central Asia Tour.

Turkmenistan is fucking nuts. A strongly worded way to begin this post, but there isn’t any other way to put it. This country is a sharp departure from normal into KA-RAZY TOWN. It’s the last stop we have on our trip through central Asia, and it seems we saved the craziest for last. And on top of that, dysentery.

We have a lot to cover.

Turkmenistan is a county flush with oil and gas money, and it’s ruled by a megalomaniac who’s only slightly less insane than the megalomanic he assumed power from. It’s closed off from the world more than almost any other country, with the exception of North Korea, which currently sets the standard for isolated crazy nation-states. Freedoms of almost all kinds are limited, and critics of the regime are subject to arrest and torture. Internet? That shit is locked down, even tighter than Iran according to Mike, who was able to circumvent the controls in that country easy enough. Not so here: social media is nonexistent and searches filtered and screened. And on top of that, no Pokemon Go. The horror! You’ll generally need an invitation to get a visa, which we did through our tour company (the primary reason we booked with an agency). You’re allowed to poke around in the Capital, Ashgabat, on your own, but leaving the city requires permission.

We crossed into Turkmenistan through the Farap border checkpoint, unfortunately getting in just behind a group of Chinese tourist. What should have been a 20 minute process stretched out into almost two hours. We bounced from one official to another, getting stamps, pieces of paper, paying fees that mysteriously appeared, all while elbowing and forcing yourself through a bristling crowd of other travelers. This is also one of those countries that charges you fees in U.S. dollars, and requires exact change – a little fact the subcontractor who managed our Turkmenistan tour failed to mention. Here we were lucky, as we had exchanged dollars with a Chinese tourist while crossing through the Uzbek side of the border. It’s a process that involved two ‘taxis’ – that also only take dollars - and plenty of walking in the hot sun. Have you ever been yelled at in Turkmen by a driver who doesn’t want to take local currency, while your guide translates the driver’s rage into English? It’s fun.

Up to this point, our guides have been great, but our luck had to run out at some point I supposed. Yduz was pleasant enough, but was a guide in the same way I’m a guide when someone asks for directions and point down the road and say “that way”. She did the bare minimum, offered only factoids of information about various monuments, but nothing insightful or particularly helpful. She left us alone for much of the border negotiation process, when we really needed her to be an advocate, but finally through, we headed to our first stop outside of the city Mary. After what felt like fifteen different checkpoints (where our driver was pulled out each time and passport, travel documents, and prostate inspected) and a stop at a rest area with an outhouse bathroom straight from the 1700’s, we reached the Ancient Merv UNESCO heritage site. Another stop on the silk road, this complex had a few reconstructed structures, but most were left pretty much as-is. What had been a sprawling city was now a handful of brick features slowly dissolving into mud. It was a refreshing change of pace from the ‘ancient’ buildings in Uzbekistan that had been recently remodeled. After a tour of the complex, we headed to Mary for a short evening flight to the capital.

Ashgabat is a dictators playground, a totalitarian Disney. Remember how I said I find it endearing when buildings or shops are shaped like the thing they sale? Well shit, this place has kind of ruined that for me. The national dental care clinic? Shaped like a giant tooth. The airport? A giant eagle (two of them). Ministry of oil? An oil rig, and a giant lighter. The central bank? Has a giant coin on it. It comes across as juvenile and ridiculous. The city is covered in white marble because that’s what the ruler, Gurbanguly Berdimuhamedow, feels is a lucky color. This is also the same guy who:

· Banned black cars from import and makes everyone who owns a black car paint it a different color.

· Banned Women from driving as “most women cause all the wrecks”.

· Fakes playing guitar on national TV, and stars in rap video with his son.

· Had a giant golden statue of himself riding a horse commissions and built.

· Makes people SCRUB THE STREETS OF THE CITY BY HAND. The actual asphalt. The road are literally squeaky clean, almost sterile, no speck of dirt or trash anywhere, and cars squeal all over them like they are filming another Fast and the Furious here.

· Forces any car or bike coming in from the desert to be washed spotless.

· Covers all the buildings in bright neon lights

· Has stray dogs and cats killed in the city via round-ups and poisoned food traps.

Their Great Leader Shredding the Guitar.

Still, despite the insanity, we saw what we could around the city. Various monuments, parks, statues, state propaganda pieces and the like are all a short drive or walk through the city. Every building and store had portraits of the President prominently displayed (it’s the law). Despite supposedly having a million or so people, the city often feels deserted, with not enough people or cars on the streets to justify the gargantuan amount of white marble residential towers that line the roads. If they spoke English, you could ask any of the soldiers posted on street corners and public places for directions, but they don’t, so don’t bother.

I admit though to missing out on an afternoon portion of the tour because , thanks to something I ate, or touched, my stomach attempted to forcefully leave my body via the basement door, if you know what I mean. It’s not uncommon for me to get sick on trips: I have the intestinal constitution of someone raised in a sterile bubble. But this, this was quite a show. It knocked me out for a good 24 hours, tested the flow capacity of my hotel bathroom, and led to more than a few sweaty-lipped dashes to various toilets around the city while out. Solids and liquids evacuated my body faster than a Florida beach town in the face of a category 5 hurricane. It was rough, and exhausting, and miserable, but nothing was going to keep me from seeing the main attraction the following day, the Darvaza gas crater. After a quick stop at the local pharmacy, where I loaded up on antibiotics and other various potions,I was feeling better and we headed out into the desert.

There are three craters, all man made by the Soviets. Two are just stewing mud pits, but the third was deliberately set ablaze to burn off excess methane in the hope that drilling for natural gas could go forward. It was supposed to burn for a couple weeks, but it’s been lighting up the desert since 1971. It’s a surreal experience: camping in the Karakum desert next to what looks like a burning gateway to hell, while camels stroll though the camp looking for snacks. I wouldn’t say it alone would be worth the trip, but it’s damn close for sure.

DARVAZA GAS CRATER

Our last night had us having our first decent meal (Coffee House, if god help you you’re ever here) and walking through a surprisingly nice park we stumbled upon. The park gave us our first glimpse into what felt like a normal life here with kids and adults playing, riding rides, eating cotton candy, and generally having a large time. A little pocket of warmth and heart, surrounded by harsh marble sterility.

Almost everywhere I have been to has something to offer, some reason to recommend going, something to see or do that justifies expending the resources – mainly time and money – to get there. But Turkmenistan? Skip it. Unless you’re a journalist (they probably won’t let you in anyways) or on a mission to get dysentery (possibly typhoid, according to Martha), don’t go. The country, not necessarily all the people exactly, but the state itself, scams you out of dollars, squeezes you with an artificially poor exchange rate, corals you into a sterilized capital city, and offers you almost nothing in return for your effort. Well, there is a giant rocket ship shaped thermometer in the city. Two, in fact.

We fly out tomorrow in the early morning, and I don’t think we will be looking back.

How we got here: Farap Border crossing then a flight on Turkmenistan Airways from Mary to Ashgabat.

Where we stayed: The Gran Turkmen Hotel. An aging hotel that wasn’t the least bit grand, and offers the worst breakfast we had on trip.

What we did: Darvaza Gas Crater, National Museum, Tomb of Ahmad Sanjar, Ancient Merv, Independence Park, Russian Bazaar, Nissa heritage site, Anau Horse Stables, Various monuments and sites around the city.