Central Asia XX: The Shrinking Aral Sea

I had my doubts about our sightseeing on October 27, 2021.  What could be that interesting about traveling hundreds of miles to see an empty lake with stranded, rusting boats?  However, yet again, we had a fascinating day.  

Professor Kamalov joined us and gave a running commentary on the sights we passed during the 2 ½ hour ride to Moynaq (which is translated into English in various ways--Muynaq, Moynauk, and more.) Water management is critical for Karakalpakstan, since it only receives 10 centimeters of water per year.  The Amu Darya River, which we have crossed several times, and which runs along the border of Turkmenistan and Karakalpakstan, has plenty of water for irrigation, but its waters have been squandered throughout the years.  In Ashgabat, the capital of Turkmenistan, fountains of water run at public buildings 24/7.  The canals leading to farms are not lined, there is little drip irrigation, and thirsty crops are planted—cotton during Soviet times, and now a lot of rice.  The fields have become polluted and salty, and they need to be heavily soaked twice per year to get out enough salt to plant crops.  Professor Kamalov pointed out the white sediment on top of the ground, in many places, which is salt. 

Professor Kamalov said that he is a “pathological optimist”, but that the water problems of Uzbekistan can only be solved by joint state action.  Specifically, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan need to work together to share the water at the western end of the Amu Darya.  I asked Professor Kamalov what his hopes are for Nukus and Karakalpakstan in the next ten to fifteen years.  He said that he hopes his province will attract more industry.  Now it sells agricultural products, but, increasingly, it is building textile manufacturing centers and other businesses which take the country’s natural resources and add value before exporting them.  Ideally, there would be more craft businesses and eventually even high tech.  High tech adds value without an ecological burden.

We stopped, during our ride, to take photos of two camels grazing by the side of the road. 

We also stopped to take photos of a Karakalpak “cowboy”, riding a horse as he herded his cows.  In this part of Central Asia, the people have distinctly Turkic features, like the Mongolians from the steppes.  They have jet black hair, almond-shaped eyes, wide faces, and high cheek bones. 

In Moynaq, we passed many modern apartment buildings and a large, multistory administration building.  In the 1950s and 1960s, when Moynaq was a fishing port on the Aral Sea, it had a population of many thousands.  Now that the Aral Sea has been drained, the population is down to 2,000.  “What are all these buildings for?” I asked.  “The president of our country said to build them.  He wants to look as if he is doing something.  It is the Russian way,” Professor Kamalov said cynically.  “The money for these buildings could have been better spent in developing industry.”  

We visited the museum about the Aral Sea, which included paintings and photographs of the Sea in its heyday, and we watched a documentary, dubbed into English, about the sea and its demise.  The Aral Sea has now been drained into two parts, much smaller than they used to be.  The part in Uzbekistan has the most dire outlook, but the part in Kazakhstan seems to be filling up again.  As Dave, Mike, and I flew back to Istanbul from Tashkent, at one point we could see the blue Kazahstan portion of the Aral Sea from the airplane.

We then walked down among a collection of rusting boats which had been dredged from the sand for the visit of the UN Commissioner, Banh Moon.  It was a great day for all four of us photographers, including Abdu!  

We stopped by a Moslem graveyard on our way back to town, with centuries of graves and a colorful mausoleum at the top of the hill.  “We have lots of monuments in Karakolpakstan,” Professor Kamalov said, “but they are spread out over hundred of kilometers and not all together, as in Khiva.”  Professor Kamalov had a fun sense of humor and told many jokes about the Soviets.  One of my favorites was his description of seven Russians—“There is one worker and six with spoons,” he said.

We had one more delicious dinner at the home of the woman who owned our hotel.  MIR's selection of hotels, speakers, guides, and entertainers is amazing!

After dinner, a mother and sons trio entertained us on local instruments.  One son was an opera singer and the group had won awards at folk art festivals.  

On the morning of October 28, 2021, we visited the Savitsky Museum in Nukus.  I have never before had the luxury of an art expert personally guiding me for three hours through an art exhibit!  The museum housed paintings from the early 1900s through the 1930s which were shunned by Soviet authorities.  The Soviets approved only of "Social Realism", with themes such as the glories of collectivation.  Savitsky, the founder of the museum, found the paintings in Moscow and other Soviet cities, hidden in back rooms and with the widows of the artists, and he brought them by railcar to Nukus for safekeeping.  

 During the “teens” and 1920s, Russia felt the same artistic ferment that the Western world had expressed through Picasso, the Impressionists and Pot-Impressionists, the Cubists, and the Fauves, such as Matisse.  Russian painters organized groups who expressed these new styles, but they were abruptly forbidden from pursuing those types of paintings by a decree of Stalin in 1932.  From then until the advent of Gorbachev in 1985, only Social Realism could be expressed in Soviet paintings.  As our guide pointed out, Soviet Realism is now seen as its own sort of fantasy.

We took an afternoon plane flight back to Tashkent and spent one more night in our beloved, luxury Lotte Hotel.  Unfortunately, we left for the airport to catch our flight to Istanbul the next morning too early for the lavish breakfast buffet!