The good news first – I have arrived safely back in Zurich! Having spent a couple of weeks in a totally different world, the last two days of which in a completely surreal town called Ashgabat, it is tough getting used to the good old routine. Zurich and Ashgabat are complete antipodes…but one thing after the other.

Ben and I made our way into Turkmenistan from Bukhara only four days ago. Just like the crossing from Kazahkstan into Uzbekistan, we encountered a very different country with very distinct people. From the border, we went straight to Mary, a town in Eastern Turkmenistan. The heat was quite a burden at first, especially since we had gotten up very early in order to meet our driver at the border on time.

Mary is the administrational center of that part of Turkmenistan. Except for a bunch of old Soviet appartment blocks and large roads, there is little of interest. However, we found a nice little bar in the center of town, where we had a few beers to chill out in the evening. A very friendly waitress and the relaxed atmosphere kept us ordering one beer after the next…

The next morning, we again got up before sunrise in order to visit the ancient ruins of Gonur. A Russian scientist discovered this site in the 1970s. It is believed to harbor the remains of the fifth ancient civilization that dates back a few thousand years. After well over two hours of a bumpy ride through the desert in a 4×4, we arrived at the site and took a tour led by a knowledgable local guide. The ruins actually consist of mud brick and are thus subject to constant erosion. Littered across the site were clay mugs and bones, which are left over from holy ceremonies.

Leaving the ancient town of Merv as a destination for another trip, we left for Ashgabat in the afternoon. The roughly 400 kilometers of desert road took us a good four and a half hours. At numerous checkpoints, friendly guards noted down our details in large textbooks. Police were friendly and often eager to leaf through our foreign passports. Surprisingly, most of the area to both sides of the road was actually green. The Karakum canal, a massive 1100 km ditch, is the reason for this phenomenon, allowing the people to grow cotton, vegetables and, above all, watermelons.

Ashagabat turned out as weird as expected – huge, empty and full of monuments and new buildings. To me, it resembled Las Vegas, although without people. Large parks, numerous water fountains and, of course, tons of
portraits and statues of Turkmenbashi, the local dictator. Ben and I were often the only admirers of these bizarre sites. Locals were only to be seen watering the many trees or as part of wedding parties taking pictures in front of the most well-known monuments.

We wandered around town all of Saturday. The highlight was certainly our visit of the “Arch of Neutrality”, on the top of which sits the golden statue of Turkmenbashi, which revolves with the sunlight (see picture). In the afternoon, we took the opportunity and jumped into the refreshing pool of our hotel. We actually stayed in one of the state-owned places a little outside of town, which again resembled Las Vegas. A strip of theme hotels, all supposedly designed and inaugurated by Turkmenbashi, sits on the edge of town, just across from the President’s state-of-the-art cardiological center (Turkmenbashi has had a bypass surgery a while back).

Ben left very early on Sunday to catch his plane to the town of Turkmenbashi at the Caspain Sea, from where he was supposed to take the ferry to Baku. Myself, I checked out the city bazaar in the morning, which is apparently one of the biggest in Central Asia. However, I was disappointed, as pretty much all of the items on sale were car parts, clothes, fruit, etc. I didn’t find a lot of very distinct things, but maybe I didn’t look hard enough…

Anyhow, the time had come to leave this surreal place. Luckily, I wasn’t all on my own. Together with a stranded Italian girl, whose travel agency had forgotten to get the appropriate visa for onward travel to Iran, I made my way to Turkmenbashi airport. After a $25 exit fee and a couple of beers, we stepped on LH 613 to Frankfurt. Ironically, the almost-empty plane stopped in Baku, but I didn’t see Ben there, who was presumably still on a rusty ferry in the middle of the Caspian Sea.

Just a very quick update from Ashgabad – where Sven and I arrived yesterday evening – after a tour-de-force through Eastern Turkmenistan. It’s all fairly weird and needs some proper writing as you can imagine. Hence, just to inform the interested reader: We’re safe, healthy and more or less sane. I will fly to Turkmenbashi tomorrow morning, whereas Sven can take a day off as he’ll leave Central Asia for Europe tomorrow night.

It happened three times before this trip started, and now the fourth one burst on the way from Samarkand to Bukhara, right before reaching Navoi. Luckily, nothing happened. We just had to exchange tyres under star-clear sky.

The trip by taxi was fairly tiring – before deciding for the car we desperately tried to jump on a bus. All of them though were overcrowded, not a single place left for us. I am taking tons of pictures here, and hope to post some of them when I am sitting on a neat computer, maybe in Baku. It’s a damn-beautiful city.

We’ll leave for Turkmenistan the day after tomorrow, hopefully meeting our guide at the border. David in Almaty set up a small tour and organised some special destinations for the two of us. Good to know Berliners around the globe, it always pays off!

The last night in Tashkent had to be celebrated with a dinner on Broadway, the local strip – a weird mixture of county fair, mall and open-air bar. Roaring Russian techno music reverberated from every single restaurant and filled the air with cacophony.

It was fairly difficult to have a proper conversation as our diner had been interrupted by half a dozen rose sellers, human-size Mickey Mouse and Garfield figures posing for a photo, and bellydancers, the latter being the most pleasant of them all.

The bill amounted to more than $15, for Tashkent a Ritz-like figure. One of the more expensive items showed to be musika. What a scam. After all though, we had a great chat with Aliya about her home in Karakalpakstan and some future projects.

To quickly get back to the hotel we picked a cab, whose driver once has been a remarkably successful boxer (3rd in World Championship, Asian Champion, SU Champion…). Just like so many of our acquaintances, he had connections in Germany and visited Hamburg and Berlin during his boxing career.

Once having had a bright outlook for the future, the collapse of the Soviet Union often stood for a deep fall on the career ladder. So, these often well-educated people have to fill such simple jobs (if even) like driving a taxi to make ends meet.

Unlike any of the other mornings, Ben jumped out of the bed at the first sound of the alarm clock at 5:40. The reason behind this inhumane wake-up time was our ambitious plan to catch the 7 o’clock train to Samarkand – once a fable Silk Road oasis.

This special tourist train, which goes by the name ‘The Registan’, is outfitted with very comfortable seats and included breakfast service. In addition, other services may have also been available, as Ben’s brief conversation with a stewardness left us guessing for the rest of the day.

While a novice English-speaking service-staff asked us – after some sentences of cordial but disinterested chit-chat – to continue the conversation in a private room, her older colleague subtly moved her head with an inviting gesture.

In terms of friendliness and charme, after all though, the Uzbek train staff beats the German counterpart by miles.

As we arrived in Samarkand around noon, we found a very relaxed athmosphere. Though also dominated by numerous Soviet-style buildings, the city is undergoing a major transformation. Construction sites are everywhere and so far, only a small part of the town’s center has been converted into a pedestrian zone.

Deprived of fast-food for the past week or so, we couln’t contain ourselves and tried a local ‘Big Mac’ version, which was indeed much tastier than the original.

And then came the ruins. Very spectacular.

We have left the relative familiarity of Almaty a couple of days ago and have made our way to Tashkent, Uzbekistan. The 14 hour bus ride was more or less comfortable, despite the screening of several third class movies that lasted until about three o’clock in the morning.

Crossing the border from Kazakhstan into Uzbekistan was a piece of cake by all standards, no hassles and friendly people helping us out. Just one borderguard had jokingly asked us about our present for him, a demand that Ben rebuked by claiming that we had just forgotten to bring it!

Tashkent is Central Asia’s largest metropolis and way different than Almaty. Due to the massive earthquake that flattened the city in the 1960s, the communists were given the unique chance to build the eptiome of a Soviet city. Thus, the boulevards of Tashkent are even wider than those in Almaty and virtually all of the buildings have been constructed over the past fourty years. The Soviet charm of colossal landmarks mingles in an interesting way with newly built shopping centers, office buildings and other commercial space. In additional, a good dozen of different monuments can be found, the most recent one paying tribute to the independence of Uzbekistan and to the victims of Stalinist oppression.

Ben’s local contact, Aliya, has been showing us around town for the past couple of days. She a law student at the university and has spent a year in the US as an exchange student. Thanks to her, we have been able to delve into the local culture much more than regular tourists. Contrary to the Kazakhs, the Uzbeks appear to me a tad friendlier still, which may owe to the fact that they are not as materialistic as their northern neighbors yet. We have had great chats with policemen checking our passports and, thank God, have not felt threatened once yet. Our Russian is slowly improving, which shall be of advantage as we head on to Samarkand on our own tomorrow.

People in Almaty will have noticed the huge PR-campaign of a new youth movement called ‘Kaisar’. Its yellow posters are everywhere, and you see people sticking new ones every day. Their website is also up and running, though unfortunately in Russian and Kazakh only.

The Almaty Herald had an interesting story about them in its last issue, but unfortunately, the website is offline. I’ll post an excert here, soon. My host Aidar tells me that they seem to be fairly pro-government, but not simply of the marionette kind. They strive to unite the Kazakhstani youth regardless of their education and origins. Hence, it is explicitely no sole student organisation.

Many people here hold the view that Kaisar is just another try of the government to prevent any colour-like scenarios for Kazakhstan. Viewing the Kyrgyz organisation KelKel with suspicion, the foundation of Kaisar is seen as a preemptive strike against any such endeavours in Kazakhstan.

Their funding seems to be significant, as they must have spent thousands of dollars for their promotional material. Funding remains an interesting question in relation to youth organisations. While KelKel has survived the first months of its activities and even the revolution without any major private donation, Yox Azerbaijan has issued a pledge for donations on their website amid the heated pre-election phase.

Interesting times here in Almaty. Aidar and I took Sven’s arrival as a good opportunity to catch up with a proper sightseeing tour. We first took the bus up to Medeu, walked up around 800 steps to the dam and enjoyed some fresh air up there. We also had a look at Respublika Alangy, a wide boulevard lined by the former White House, the City Parliament, and a nice freedom statue – making the grand city walk complete. I can’t wait for my shashlik.

Almaty is a city minted by materialism, the dollar is ideology, big cars and swank new and fenced off buildings its incarnation. In contrast to that, attending a mass in the Zenkov-Cathedral in Panfilov Park makes you feel being in a very special and spiritual place.

Tomorrow is our last day in Kazakhstan – we’ll take an overnight bus to the Uzbek border. It will be a helluva ride, taking some 18 hours. So, we should be in Tashkent by early Wednesday evening. I’ll try to post some pictures by then.

Hey, just a quick note that I arrived safe and well in Almaty. Sven joined me yesterday, and on Tuesday, the two of us will take the train towards Tashkent, a tiring 25-hour-ride. There, we’ll meet with some Thinking-East friends, and surely, this will develop into a more extensive entry in this blog.

Today has been filled with the most extensive Kazakh bishbermak-feast I ever attended… It took 5 hours in total and left me nothing but stuffed.. More later.

Marcus Bensmann, known to the reader of The Registan and the like through his critical take on Dr. Akiner’s Andijon report, has written an interesting article in today’s TAZ. Contrary to the US, that has to vacate K2 (Karshi-Khanabad) within the next six months, Germany seems to keep relations warm and regularly donates medical equipment to the Uzbek armed forces. Well worth a read (if you can understand Deutsch).

News regarding my upcoming voyage through Central Asia. My itinerary will be: Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Azerbaijan, Georgia – from where I am going to head back to Berlin on the 10th of September. Exciting. A whole month of travelling…