WE HAVE BEEN IN CENTRAL ASIA FOR SEVEN WEEKS and have visited five countries familiar to travelers on the Silk Route but very much off the modern tourist trail — former Soviet republics whose names may reflect their ethnic populations but whose borders were determined by the whim of Uncle Joe Stalin. Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Turkmenistan are all Muslim countries. Each has its own language with Russian the lingua franca and all but Turkmenistan use the Cyrillic alphabet.
We have traveled from arctic Astana to the desert of Gonur, from the modern Tashkent and Ashgebad to the desolation of Darwaza, from killing time in snowy Bishkek to the Navruz celebration in Khiva. We took an elected a guided trip in Uzbekistan and a mandatory one in Turkmenistan but had no trouble traveling on our own the rest of the time. We have time-traveled with Alexander the Great, Marco Polo, the rise of Islam, the hoards of Chingiss Khan and the terror of Timur, often within sight of Iran and Afghanistan.
Ashgebad by night
The “peaceful ‘Stans” are much more developed than we had imagined. The Soviets (aka Bolsheviks) have been gone for 25 years but their influence can be seen everywhere, especially in uber-bureaucratic Turkmenistan. They also left their language and their mistakes. Cotton may be the cash crop in Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan but the destruction of the Aral Sea is a high price to pay. The Darwaza gas crater is a glowing reminder that oil and natural gas rule today’s economies.
Midnight at the Darwaza Gas Crater
Language and strange food aside, the people have been wonderful. We still have our issues with airport cabbies but everyone else has been friendly and helpful with the exception of the bureaucratic Turkmen. Few are camera shy and many ask to pose with us. We have run into several European tour groups, Italians, French and Germans by the sound of things, but few North Americans. I usually ask them why they came here and have been amazed by the responses — the Canadian ambassador to Kazakhstan and his family, Bo of 182 countries, the Canadian/American women documentary crew, and a few American petroleum workers on busman’s holiday. And, of course, us Vagabonds.
