楚门的世界 – 阿什哈巴德

我步步为营地走在一个离奇怪诞的城市里，身穿制服的警察和士兵，仅次于街上的路灯，街上的摄像机和中央监控系统，也仅次于路上的告示牌，而最耐人寻味的是，尼亚佐夫永垂不“死”的金色雕像，竟仅次于城里一座接着一座犹如卖弄奢华的所谓纪念碑！若把中亚的朝鲜标签在这个谜一般神秘的内陆国家上，立竿见影的国家形象马上收效，但她不为人知的一国之都，或许无法呼之欲出。

是的，我说的是位于中亚的土库曼斯坦，以及她光怪陆离的首都 – 阿什哈巴德(Aşhgabat)。

阿什哈巴德 – 白色大理石之城

自1991年苏联解体而独立后，土库曼政府决定把阿什哈巴德打造成世界上独一无二的白色大理石之城。作为一座年轻的城市，阿什哈巴德市内所有新颖的建筑物，都一律由法国建筑大师所设计，建筑物表面均被清一色产于伊朗的白色大理石所覆盖，在炎阳的照耀下，整座城市显得异常的洁白明亮，非常耀眼夺目。

除了钟情于白色城市，水城也是土库曼政府对如何铸造阿什哈巴德这座绿洲城市所展示的突发奇想，市内主要的建筑物前、广场上、公园里甚至交通圈与街道旁，都设置了造型各异的喷泉，花园、草坪和蓄水池比比皆是，对于水的浪漫遐想，久居沙漠的土库曼人实现得格外的具体与豪放，土库曼政府欲把一个位于卡拉库姆沙漠(Karakum Desert)的城市打造成一座名副其实的白色水城，无疑是一项疯狂的城市工程。

公园，喷水池和尼亚佐夫金色的肖像是阿什哈巴德一贯的城市配套

萨帕尔穆拉特•尼亚佐夫(Saparmurat Niyazov)是已故土库曼之父，乃土库曼第一任总统，喜欢以“土库曼巴希(Türkmenbaşhy)”自居，阿什哈巴德这座自我恭贺的浮夸城市，正是出自这位堪称土库曼永远的总统的手里。在位时的尼亚佐夫大肆鼓吹个人崇拜主义，阿什哈巴德市内都装满了他的金色雕像，各式各样离奇古怪令人匪夷所思的建筑工程划破了城里的天际线，尼亚佐夫自恋的地步，看来已到了自我神化的境界。

我走入人迹寥寥的国家图书馆，从架子上拿了一本由尼亚佐夫撰写的《鲁赫纳玛》(《Ruhnama》) 来阅读。这本外表看来和《可兰经》非常相似的国书，被土库曼政府奉为民族的灵魂之书，是每一个国民必读的课本，里头叙述了尼亚佐夫版本的土库曼斯坦，内容从历史、文化、精神、道德、价值观到国家的中立主义，据说历史的部分较偏向神话与修正主义，西方学者把它视为尼亚佐夫向人民洗脑的经书。

伫立在地震博物馆上的纪念碑，构思据说源自突厥民族的一个古老传说

我走在阿什哈巴德的市中心内，独立广场上竖立着一座地震纪念碑，让人忍不住顿足观望。纪念碑分为上下两部分，上半部是一座以青铜打造的公牛像，公牛头顶上顶着一个皲裂的地球，裂开的地壳上有一个女子双手擎着一个小孩(儿时的尼亚佐夫)，整幅设计构想据说源自突厥(Turks)民族的一个古老传说: 地球是由一头巨牛驮着，女子与小孩象征着永恒和人类的延续；纪念碑下半部是一间地震博物馆，主要展出一些于1948年发生在阿什哈巴德的大地震的照片，入口处的墙上挂着一个壁钟，时针指着1点12分 – 当年地震发生的时间，当年里氏9级的大地震在一夜之间把阿什哈巴德夷为平地，也一并带走了尼亚佐夫的母亲和两位哥哥，顿时把这位“伟大”的总统变为孤儿。

我脚下所踩着的土地，以及周遭任何一栋建筑物，都是地震过后以滚滚的黑色金钱重建过来的。土库曼拥有非常丰富的油气资源，以石油工业立国，油甚至比水还要便宜，而且全民的水电费也获得政府相当可观的津贴，但豪华私邸和名贵跑车不见得像因石油而暴富的邻国般出现在繁华的市中心，国富民穷的现象，在曾经躲藏在社会主义底下的国家尤其显著。

阿什哈巴德市郊的“乐高之园”，远处正是从市中心移植过来的中立门

走出乏人问津的地震博物馆，发现一座采用火箭造型的中立门(Arch of Neutrality)大大咧咧地耸立在喷水池旁，怪怪地代表着土库曼斯坦作为中立国的身份。突兀的门塔高75米，顶端耸立着一尊尼亚佐夫总统的金色雕像，每天风雨不改地随着太阳的方向旋转，下半部的三个支撑脚则分别代表着土库曼三个最重要的基础 – 中立、独立和民族团结。

尼亚佐夫总统于1995年向外宣布中立政策，并在同年12月12号的联合国大会上获得185个成员国一致同意，赋予土库曼斯坦永久中立国的地位。为了纪念这一个历史性的日子，土库曼政府还把每年的12月12号定为中立日，以展示对世界的友好态度。设计浮夸的中立门，如今不知何故已被土库曼政府拆毁，然后重建在市郊一处，随心所欲的城市规划让人不敢恭维。

辉煌亮丽的独立柱，其实更像是一支巨形搋子

不是代表这个就是象征那个的所谓纪念碑，在视觉上制造了前所未有的冲击

在阿什哈巴德市郊以南，则矗立着一尊象征土库曼作为一个独立主权国家的独立柱，塔基是一座展示土库曼传统民族服饰的博物馆，塔基上方的塔柱高达91米，象征土库曼在1991年所获得的独立。设计别具一格的独立柱高高地伫立在站满民族英雄雕像的公园中央，热情奔放的喷水池在一旁默默加持，整幅画面虽然充斥着浓浓的超现实主义，却也颇有中流砥柱的况味。

我无法揣测设计师那种既疯狂又另类的创意思维，因为在我贫穷的想象力里，那一座又一座劳民伤财的“天空之柱”，更像是一支又一支的巨形搋子，日以继夜地在大地上吸吮着蕴藏在地底下的黑色液体，不但壅塞了原本应该全民共享的财富，也疏通不了外人心中对这个国家百思不得其解的种种疑团。

中立与独立，原来只不过是这个国家美丽的幌子。

巨大生动的民族英雄雕像后，是一栋又一栋不见得栉比鳞次的白色高楼

根据官方统计资料，阿什哈巴德住有100万人，我在最繁忙的时段站在最繁忙的街道上，却感觉不到这一数目的规模，整个城市安静得让人不自在。我向路边的便利店买了一瓶中亚特有的碳酸苏打水来解渴，然后自个儿在城市里漫无目的地闲逛，较后因为误闯富丽堂皇金顶加冕的总统府范围而被驻守在那里的安全部队近乎歇斯底里地吆喝谩骂，枪口甚至还不时对准我的脑袋，我当场被吓得不知所措，下意识地犹如囚犯般双手举起跪在地上，告诉他我不是恐怖分子。我突然想起曾经有一个就读于阿什哈巴德的土耳其大学生向我这么形容: “在这里，你可以非常安全地在街上散步，根本不用担心治安问题，这里到处都是警察和士兵。”

蓬松的传统羊皮高帽(Telpek)，是土库曼男人爱不释手的帽子

蓄着胡子的土库曼男人偶尔会在不繁忙的街上漫步，他们喜欢穿着一身东方式的传统长袍和巨大宽松的裤子，头顶上总会戴着一顶黑色灰色或褐色的传统羊皮高帽，据说具有冬暖夏凉的作用，土库曼人脱离游牧民族的生活也不过是上几代的事；频频出现在街上的土库曼女人，则喜欢以一身传统的民族服装示人，无论是配有头饰和发饰的头巾，色彩艳丽的上衣，还是精心绣制的纱笼，抑或是长及足踝的连衫纱裙，他们都一律以五颜六色的衣料来缝制，仿佛愈鲜艳愈美丽，印证了土库曼女人钟情于色彩的美丽信仰。男人们设计简单色彩暗沉的传统服装，与女人们鲜艳夺目的传统服饰，在太阳底下形成了强烈的对比，他们每天川行在以浮夸建筑为背景的大街小巷里，虽然毫不相称，却意外地成为了阿什哈巴德另一道吸引人们目光的风景线。

托库奇卡巴扎 – 中亚最富色彩的有盖巴扎

把传统民族服装当成日常服饰来穿戴的土库曼女人，是阿什哈巴德另一道引人入胜的风景线

距离阿什哈巴德8公里的托库奇卡巴扎(Tolkuchka Bazaar)，是中亚规模对大的市场，每逢周六周日早上，来自四面八方的土库曼人纷纷涌入这个匍匐在大漠上的大巴扎，巴扎里排满了上千种商品，从蔬菜水果鱼类水产到头巾布匹纱笼地毯大袍和羊皮高帽，再从各式传统小吃到金饰银饰铜饰和电子器材，应有尽有也无奇不有，诺大的巴扎里，身穿传统民族服装的土库曼女人鱼贯而入并穿梭在不同的区域里，为原本只有规模可言的巴扎增添了绚丽斑斓的色彩，让人眼前为之一亮。

把传统民族服装当着日常服饰来穿戴，在不断高喊革新的今天已属难能可贵，更何况是在干旱难耐酷暑逼人的烈日当空下，土库曼民族对传统的由衷热爱，无不以他们与生俱来的民族自豪感挂钩，这种发自内心油然而生的自豪感，已远远把他们的政府不断以华而不实的城市工程来自我吹擂的自豪感给抛在九霄云外。

已形同废墟的梅尔夫(Merv)古城，一度是古丝绸之路的重要驿站，如今被列为土库曼的世界文化遗产 

土库曼斯坦不但是个诡异的国家，还是个让人难以认识及适应的国家，对外来者尤其存有提防之心。土库曼并不怎么欢迎游客的到来，采取排外政策的政府总会想尽办法限制入境游客的数量和他们去的地方。我以过境签证从伊朗入境土库曼，在来到阿什哈巴德欲入住市内的酒店时，却因为被柜台人员以狐疑的眼光拒绝而被迫露宿街头，而在露宿街头后又被声名狼藉的警察谩骂驱赶。这里似乎没有人会因为你是外国人而笑脸相待，或特别照顾你。然而，这一切并没有让我断定土库曼人仇外与不友善，对于外来者，他们只是不习惯，我愿意相信，中亚人的善良和热情是隐藏不张扬的，一旦楚门的世界被打破，游牧民族的憨厚与纯朴自然盛情绽放。

State Historical and Cultural Park ‘Ancient Merv’

Note: State Historical and Cultural Park ‘Ancient Merv’ is one of the UNESCO World Heritage Site (Cultural Site) inscribed in 1999.

Tolkuchka Bazaar

Note: Tolkuchka Bazaar is reputedly the most exotic bazaar in Central Asia. See the photo and you won't doubt it.

Bring It On

I never expect traveling in Turkmenistan by ‘smartly’utilizing its relatively costly transit visa would be so eventful. 

First night I slept on the street; second night in a park; third night on the street again and forth night managed to squeeze myself in a private Turkmen homestay without prior permission from the owner.

The series of unfortunate event began when I arrived at the Iran/Turkmenistan border at Bajgiran. The formality at the Iranian side of the border was straightforward but not at the Turkmenistan side. It took me almost 3 hours of killing time and burning cigarette before the green light shone on me. First, the border closed for lunch when I arrived, then I have to pay $12 for the bizarre hologram entry card to get in the country even though I had paid for the visa. But then Turkmens were always given the priority despite the long queue I was in with other Iranians and Turkishs. When all the onerous formalities were eventually over, there is a 25 km of no-man’s land welcoming me forth. Smart minivan wanted an outrageous $15 for the mere 25 km ride. There is only one reason to explain this – they still have to pay for the bribe to the custom. At the Turkmen lower border gate, private car(there isn’t any taxi!) wanted 10 Manat to take you to Ashgabat, a mere 10 km away, but the thing is they will only take one passenger in a single ride. That means no sharing. The helpful Turkish guy who tried to help me by sharing the ride couldn’t do anything except waving good bye and good luck to me.       

After half an hour, I got down from a BMW in front of a hotel. There are more than 100 rooms there but the blonde unfriendly Turkmen lady in the reception told me it was full. Of course it didn’t make sense. OK! So I walked to the second hotel in my list, around 3 km away. It’s a homestay. It took me 4 hours of asking, searching, locating and backtracking on foot before realizing that the neighborhood had been demolished, allegedly to give way to Niyazor’s another fancy redevelopment. OK! Fine! I was so thirsty, hungry and exhausted that I sat on the roadside kerb in front of a grocery shop, eating plain bread and drinking Coke. Yaya…I was helpless. I failed to figure out what to do next. Then I decided to try my luck in the downtown, another 3 km away. Oh, God! Finally there is a hotel which was willing to take me but they wanted $30! I’m not going to pay $30 to sleep. I can sleep on my own. Then I walked to the last hotel in my list, another 3 km away only to get the response ‘We are busy’. Damn it. It was already 9.30pm. Then the idea of sleeping in the train station suddenly popped out from my mind. It’s another 2-km walk and I had to hurry as rumor has it that there is a curfew at 11.00pm in the capital city of Ashgabat. Foreigners are always the target. OK, great! The train station was locked up when I was there. So I ended up stranded on a bench in a roundabout right in front of the train station, helplessly, before succumbing to the exhaust. Luckier than worst, no registration is necessary for those traveling on a transit visa.         

The second night saw me being driven out by the Turkmenistan’s notorious police when I tried to sleep at the same spot. It’s indeed a good spot, with relatively ‘clean’ bench beside a garbage bin and a fountain just 3 m away to cool down the intense heat, if you can take in the traffic noise as parts of the musical fountain. I think I was addicted to sleep on the street.  OK! So the police blew the whistle and yelled at me frantically because I didn’t understand what he said(though I could tell from his yell) and apparently I was trying to sleep there as my body was lying on the bench and was bare-footed. I lied to him, saying that I was just relaxing and reading(In fact, I was reading some notes about Turkmenbashi and his version of Turkmenistan’s Al-Quran – the Ruhnama) I had to raise up both my hands in the act of surrendering to halt his yelling. He asked for my passport and drove me away like a dog(not me, he is the barking dog!). So it took me some purnishing efforts before I could locate another 'good' spot to end my day. Damn to those idiot Turkmen strangers who never threw sympathy on me except to wake me up everytime they passed by just to ask for cigarette! Didn't they see a foreigner lying on a dirty rotten wooden bench who needs help? Oh ya! The first time I was yelled hysterically by the police is when I was walking along a row of Niyazor’s marble-white vertical post-modern buildings on my way to the State Bank of Foreign Affairs, the only bank in Turkmenistan which accepts international withdrawal. I thought there was a bombing or something that could have made them acting so fussy and hysterical. I had to raise up both my hands just to show them I'm not a terrorist but a humble tourist. I almost had to drop my knee to beg for mercy. My money is just enough for Iran but was far from enough for Central Asia countries. I never expect I will make my way here. The last time I withdrew money was in Azerbaijan. I salute to myself for being able to survive without any withdrawal for 2 months. And to my surprise and disappointment(well, may be not as I should expect the worst, I’m in the Niyazorland of Turkmenistan), they refused to let me cash the money(There isn’t any ATM machine, you have to deal with them over the counter), claiming that I was using a stolen card as there isn’t any printed name on my ATM card. Hahahahaha…today is really not my day. No…no…no…perhaps I shouldn’t come to Turkmenistan.

After seeing all those lavish golden statues and ostentatious monumental parks allegedly belongs to surrealism, I decided to leave Ashgabat to Mary on a night train. I was worrying about getting a place to sleep if I took a day train or marshrutka. I thought I was smart. The boiling train dropped me in Mary at 2.30am. Damn it. So, another night on the street.

The main reason I came to Mary is to visit the ancient Merv. I have mentioned that I’m not going to just bypass this country like other travelers do considering the amount of money I had paid. So first, I took a bus to the dusty town of Bairam Ali, before making my way there, on foot. I had to walk for 4 km to reach the edge of the site, only to realize that the site is too huge to cover on foot. Again, under the scorching hot sun, I was in an ill-fated way to explore the site, which is totally in ruins. It wasn’t until I almost get dehydrated and succumbed to the savannah-like desert that I realized all the efforts were proved to be too silly and unworthy. There is nothing too see except some stones and sand ruins. Damn it. I thought I was young and energetic but in fact, I’m getting older and have shown signs of aging.

OK! So I paid a lot for the visa; bore with the unnecessary ponderous bureaucracy; suffered the unbearable arid climate; slept on the street; driven away by the police like a dog; almost get myself killed in the desert; …all for what? Am I traveling or self-torturing?

If you are reading this and can’t help getting frowned of why I was doing those, there is only one simple reason to explain all – This is part of the travel experience. This is how a country shows its courtesy and this is how I learn a country.

Sorry guys, traveling is not merely for fun for me. I’m a serious(if not silly) traveler.

Having gone through all these, I told myself there will be nothing which can hold me back. Whatever it takes, I’ll take it. Bring it on!

                         

Note: 1 Manat ≈ RM 1

The Niyazorland of Turkmenistan

The numbers of police in Ashgabat are only second to the numbers of its bus stop; the numbers of stationed army are only second to the numbers of its lamp pole; the numbers of CCTV and camera are only second to its street sign; the numbers of golden statue of Saparmurat Niyazor, Turkmenistan’s former(if not forever) president, are only second to the numbers of his ostentatious ‘plunger-like’ monuments, fountain and marble-white post-Soviet buildings erected in his self-congratulatory city of Ashgabat. 

The golden statue of Niyazor is everywhere

Plunger, plunger and plunger!

Lavish Park + Monument

Marble-white post-Soviet buildings

While white-beard Turkmen men in their big traditional brown or black hat were not difficult to spot, Turkmen women are easily seen walking on the street in their ankle-length very colorful dresses and headscarves, both taking the lavish and swanky buildings as their backdrops, yet seemingly not assorted with those.