If I had to sum it up in one sentence, Turkmenistan was like one of those really weird dreams, full of things that “kind of make sense,” but also tied together with a string of really bizarre stuff.
Yuliya: Unfortunately we will not be able to support your visa application for this event.
Me: What happened?
Yuliya: We believe that the main purpose of your visit is not business orientated, we believe it is more personal in order to get visa.
Crap. But how did they know? How did they know I wasn’t really an American businessman interested in attending the TurkmenTel conference? I had done the very best I could to present myself as a mover and a shaker in the international telecom industry, but my attempts were futile.
I’d applied online to attend the November 2022 conference in Ashgabat – a meeting of telecommunications company owners and operators around the world. It was seemingly the only way I’d be able to get in; the doors of Turkmenistan still sealed tight since the pandemic. I wasn’t sure if they’d ever open and I was getting stir crazy. To make it worse, it was my very last country…did I really come this far to get stuck at 192?
Well I’m not a quitter and I never take no for an answer. I had to find a way into Turkmenistan. So when I heard that one could get a visa by attending one of a handful of state-sponsored special conferences, I wasted no time signing up. And it wasn’t like I was trying to get into the Turkmenistan Oil and Gas Conference – an industry I had zero experience in. This was a telecommunications conference – that’s literally my business. Not only does my resume scream “telecommunications,” but I even own a small radio broadcast company. I was willing to pay the exorbitant fee for the trade show registration and wouldn’t even gripe about the required three-day quarantine on arrival. Sign me up, take my money…just get me in! But somehow Yuliya–and/or the folks screening applicants–saw right through me. Busted. Access denied. I felt defeated.
Take a Letter, Maria…
In January of 2023, out of sheer desperation, I took pen to paper and pleaded with The President himself for permission to visit. $250 later, my communiqué was on the way to His Excellency in Ashgabat, thanks to DHL. I’ll admit, I had secret dreams of being personally invited to “hang” with President Berdimuhamedow at the palace, perhaps striking up a sort of Dennis Rodman–Kim Jong Un type of friendship…you know, video games, maybe some hoops, watch a little Forensic Files together. We would become best bros, I just know it. I knew it was a one in a million chance, but crazier things have happened. Sadly, no response.
But then, in February 2023, a message from Ben of SAIGA Tours: Turkmenistan was finally opening up. Wait a minute…I sent a letter to The President in January and the country magically opened up in February. Coincidence??? Of course, but it’s fun to think otherwise, yes?
Ben was one of a half-dozen Turkmenistan tour agencies I’d been harassing for a year and a half. I was definitely being a bugaboo, texting every few months, asking for updates. Ben was the first to notify me of the good news. Could it really be happening? This was the best Valentine ever.
Not surprisingly, even though the country was opening, the only way to get a visa was through an approved tour company. I wasted no time getting my documents together. I was not going to miss this opportunity. A few weeks later, I got the glorious news that my visa was approved. Oh my God, this was really happening. I was going to Turkmenistan! I just had no idea the trip would be so magical. I had no idea what was in store.
I’d been searching for my eighth-grade buddy Rafik for over a decade. He was the only close childhood friend that, for some reason, I could not locate on social media. We were such great pals as pre-teens and I fondly remember spending time with him and his dad as a boy. Rafik is Tunisian, and I remember how frustrating it was not being able to find him, especially after my first trip to Tunisia in 2016. As a 13-year old, I couldn’t have even told you which continent Tunisia was on, but now, as a travelling fool, where, oh where was Rafik to hear about my journey to his homeland.
Then, just last year, one day out of the blue, Rafik found me! After receiving a message from him via Instagram, we were on the phone less than 30 seconds later, chatting up a storm. It was like we’d never lost touch. This was the exact Rafik I remember – only he now had a doctorate, a divorce and was a Dad. It was so good reuniting with my homie! And although I’d learn that Rafik was a pretty savvy traveler himself, I did not necessarily believe him when he said he’d love to tag along with me on my next trip. A lot of my friends are quick to tell me they’re game to join me on my next voyage, but when the time comes, it just never happens. I don’t fault them – most “regular” people have no desire to go to Algeria, Comoros, Timor Leste or Transnistria. But what do you know, Rafik surprised me: He said he’d go to Turkmenistan with me, and sure enough, a few weeks later, there he was, meeting me in Istanbul, boarding flight TK3022 to Ashgabat with his old buddy Randy. Crazy that we hadn’t seen each other for 30+ years, and the first place we meet is Turkmenistan. What a guy!
Los Angeles > Istanbul > Ashgabat
It was surreal finally stepping out of the plane and onto the tarmac in Ashgabat. 193…the end! I still kept asking myself, “Was this really happening?” But I wouldn’t actually “count it” until I got that passport stamp and physically passed through immigration. Anything could happen before then – maybe a visa mishap? Maybe my name was in “the system” because I tried to register for that conference last year…or because I sent an “unauthorized” letter to The President? I wasn’t worried, but I still wouldn’t let loose until I actually left the airport. And it would be a while. The mandatory Corona virus test on-arrival and visa issuance would take another two and half hours. It was 2AM and under any normal circumstances I would be totally wiped out – but I was too excited to be tired – I was actually in Turkmenistan! There’s no way I could sleep!
I caught up with Rafik during our wait at the airport and enjoyed my first round of Turkmen people-watching. We met a really sweet, young girl named Bibi, who was from Turkmenistan but had been attending school in Missouri. This was her first trip home in years. She was tremendously welcoming and I remember thinking, if all Turkmen are even half as nice as Bibi is, I’m going to love this place. I hadn’t even left the airport and I was already feeling the warmth of this far away and mysterious nation. Thanks for being so sweet, Bibi – you’re the first official Turkmen I met and made a great impression!
Full disclosure, I’m going to be throwing a lot of random thoughts and facts at you during this blog. And while I’ll do my best to keep everything concise and cohesive, you must know that Turkmenistan is a country that has succeeded in scrambling both my brain and my heart. As one of the most closed-off countries in the world, there was just so much to discover about Turkmenistan, and I’d be lying if I told you I understood everything I experienced. But come with me, stick close, and I’ll do my best to describe what the following six days entailed.
There’s also a lot of stuff I really want to talk about, but won’t. Not here, not now. Most every travel report I write on this website is an uncensored, tell-all, no-holds-barred account of my entire experience. But, as I mentioned, Turkmenistan is already a very “closed” country. They don’t want a lot of press and they can make it very tough to visit. (Semi-) spoiler alert: I want to return to Turkmenistan, badly. So many wonderful experiences–some rare, some beautiful that I will will have to save them for my novel.
If I had to sum it up in one sentence, Turkmenistan was like one of those really weird dreams, full of things that “kind of make sense,” but also tied together with a string of really bizarre stuff. Man, I don’t even know where to start. My thoughts are so jumbled up. How about the hotel?
I picked the Diwan Hotel. It was a giant, fortress of a building, made of marble and glass. The government-owned property is catty-corner to The Presidential Palace, which I’d be warned not to take any photos of, several times. The state hotel was enormous, grand and opulent and there weren’t many people staying there at all.
We’ll get to the good stuff (the local scene), after a recap of the first day’s visit to the monuments and museums…
Livin’ for the City
Batyr would be our tour guide for the week. A pleasant Turkmen, he was up on his Turkmenistan history and geography and would be a nonstop source of knowledge throughout the trip. Our first stop was Memorial Park. While the monuments and statues were impressive, I couldn’t help but wonder where everyone else was. We were the only ones there, in that massive stone complex, except for the military officers and custodians. How surreal. Once again, I felt like I was in a dream. A very, very realistic dream.
Next up, a stop at the world’s biggest indoor Ferris wheel, official name, Alem Cultural and Entertainment Center. We were the only ones there. Besides the two of three employees, who literally had to turn the thing on for us, there was not another soul in sight. This was getting weird. Batyr swore that when this thing opened, the place was packed – a line of people two miles long waiting to ride. But today, not one other person besides our small group was present. This included the giant arcade at the bottom – all those video games and not one player. The machines were turned off. Bizarre.
After our spin, it was over to The Arch of Neutrality. Cool monument. And you guessed it, we were the only people there, too.
After a tasty lunch, it was over to The National Museum a History. This was an enormous complex consisting of three large, multi-story museums. Batyr suggested the middle (main) museum. We could have spent two days seeing everything. Photos were allowed in the museum, except for the political or “Presidential” area – a first floor exhibit with a giant image of President Serdar Berdimuhamedow. This was the only area I actually wanted to take photos of – lots of current-day info and displays, including the story of the national airline. It’s this stuff that interests me the most – the current political and economic story of Turkmenistan. Overall, the museum was really nice – and that’s coming from someone who usually doesn’t enjoy museums. And if you’re wondering how many other people I saw inside that massive museum. Zero is correct.
I was back at the hotel by 5PM and exhausted. I was running on less than three hours sleep and clocking in over 24 hours of non-stop travel behind me. I hit a wall. I told the others in the group (a total of five of us) that I was going to nap and not to wake me. I turned my phone off and slipped into a coma. I was more than annoyed when I was jarred awake from a knock at the door an hour later. It was Rafik and he was ready to hit the town. What can I say? We’re in Turkmenistan! Though initially annoyed, I begrudgingly put on a nice shirt and we were out the door. That obnoxious knock turned out to be one of the best things that could ever happen – the course of this trip, forever changed.
Understand that Turkmenistan is not the easiest place in the world to visit. It can be tough to “get in” and you can not come independently; instead, you must visit as part of a tour, under the supervision of a government approved tour company. Other nations where it’s tough to travel independently include Iran and Bhutan, and North Korea being the strictest. I think that’s it. I bring this up, specifically, because it was my mission to go “off program” during this trip. Sure, the monuments and museums were nice, but I was bound and determined to wander – to get lost in Ashgabat, and hopefully, mix in with the locals. It was something I failed to do in the three aforementioned countries. I had to do better for #193. Tonight was the night. (Full disclosure, doing this [the wandering part] was not against the rules. Our itinerary specifically gave us free time. I was just probably a little more excited about it than most.)
There was one particular moment and visual in Turkmenistan I can never forget – my favorite one of the entire trip – that will be seared into my brain forever. This simple sight made more of an impression on me than any of the towering gold and marble monuments, the ancient ruins or gargantuan and opulent buildings…It was wandering into the central park that very first night. I can’t even tell you why, but there was something about turning the corner, walking under the trees and seeing a small, glowing Ferris wheel 200 feet in front of me. As I walked closer, there were the people! The people I’d missed all day…the Turkmen! Oh, how beautiful they were! The families, and kids, and the ladies – all wearing long, flowing, colorful patterned dresses, heels, and silk scarves on top of their heads. They were enjoying the small carnival rides, eating popcorn and cotton candy and smiling and laughing. I’ve always dreamed of having a time machine and how amazing it would be to be able to travel back to simpler times. This was it! I felt like I was in the 1920s. The hairs on the my arms and the back of my neck stood at attention. It was surreal. It felt like a dream. It was something so simple yet so special. Where am I???
Rafik and I wandered the park like a couple of small kids being let loose at Disneyland for the first time, except the excitement was for the people, not the rides. How could such a simple experience warm my heart so much? 192 countries under my belt, and I hadn’t felt this electric since that first trip to Rio De Janeiro at 26 years old. After that virgin visit to Brasil, I truly felt I could never feel that magic again – that intensity that I felt as a wide-eyed, young, newbie explorer, so out of my element and experiencing so many “firsts…” the kind of unbridled electricity that runs through your blood during your first kiss, that can never be duplicated again. But I was feeling this energy all over again and I will cherish that first night in Ashgabat forever. And it would only get better.
We heard music. Live music. And a choir. As Rafik and I followed the angelic sounds to nearby open window, I wondered if I’d actually died and this was heaven. We approached the window and quietly peered in to witness a choir singing. It was “Victory Day” here in Turkmenistan and they were pulling out all the stops. How did we just stumble upon this – it was straight out of a movie.
We arranged for the same taxi who dropped us off, to pick us up later that night. He was prompt, meeting us on that same corner promptly at 9:30PM, only with an addition this time. The friendly but modest young lady in the front seat was added by our driver as an interpreter – he knew zero English, but she was fluent and would make sure we were taken exactly where we wanted to go. When we arrived at the local bar/lounge, Rafik and I simultaneously spit out, “Would you join us?” She accepted, and five minutes later we were sipping libations with our new Turkmen friend. Our mission of infiltrating the locals had been accomplished in less than twelve hours. What a day! By the end of the night, I could say I made a true, local friend in Turkmenistan. This was an excursion off the program that money couldn’t buy.
Day Two: Ruined
After breakfast at the hotel, we took the 20-minute drive to the ancient ruins of Nisa. Neat stuff and I did enjoy it, but couldn’t want to get back to city life and mill around among the locals again. Ashgabat was calling me. I’d had a taste and now I was hooked.
Back in town, we visited at the enormous and impressive Turkmenbashy Ruhy Mosque. It was one of the nicest mosques I’ve ever visited. Once again, no one there.
Next on the agenda, a quick stop at “The Palace of Happiness.” This was one of the coolest looking buildings in the country and the place Turkmen get married. No one was getting married today, apparently. Not a soul in sight.
Meanwhile, Back at The Ranch…
After the structured stops at the scheduled sites, it was back to town, where we had some free time at a small shopping center. Rafik and I enjoyed popping in and out of the stores, each one showing off their own photo of Serdar Berdimuhamedow above their respective cash registers. I enjoyed the pristine parks and monuments, but adored blending in with local Turkmen life. I hope I didn’t stare too much, but the people-watching in Turkmenistan was some of the finest in the world. These are beautiful humans.
Night Number Two
Rafik and I had arranged to meet our new local friend from last night back at Ashgabat Park. The previous night, another local had invited us back to that same spot to watch his son play music. It was the first word I’d learned in Russian, as the proud father kept telling us Zaftra, zaftra! (Tomorrow, tomorrow!) Well zaftra had come, and here we were – back at the park enjoying a sunset serenade from a group of students and their conductor.
The details of dinner that night will have to wait for my novel (in many years)…but let’s just say we enjoyed a real, home cooked plate of my favorite Central Asian dish, plov. It was a special night for all of us – one that would absolutely cement my love for Turkmenistan.
Today we’d hit the road to spend the night at Turkmenistan’s most famous tourist attraction: Darvaza Gas Crater, a.k.a. the Gates of Hell. But first, a stop at Ashgabat’s biggest shopping mall, Berkarar. We’d stroll the corridors and pop in dozens of shops here, but my favorite spot was the attached grocery store, Kamil Market. I’d later be told this was only where the rich people shopped. Either way, I adored this grocery store, which featured an amazing bakery with an enormous spread of breads, cookies and cakes, and even a lady in the middle of the aisles making fresh flatbread. I could have spent an entire day inside Kamil, but soon, it was time to get on the highway and make the trek out of town.
Gates of Hell
After stocking up with provisions for the night, it was on the road and out of town, leaving the massive sea of white marble buildings and shiny streets behind us. Soon, civilization disappeared and we were now in the wild and barren Turkmen desert. There wasn’t a lot to ooh and ahh at, but I did particularly enjoy the small village we stopped at for gas along the way. It was my first glimpse of a different side of Turkmenistan – a place without the opulence, structure and pristineness of Ashgabat. A small, dusty and simple village, where camels roamed and I witnessed two school girls playing hopscotch across the street. We were hoping we could join them in a game, but the two scurried inside when we approached. I wished we had more time to hang out here in this simple village, but minutes later we were gassed up and ready to go. There was so much more I wanted to see.
The crater was really cool. Rafik and I escaped the group and wandered up a nearby hill to watch the giant, fiery hole at sunset. Back at camp, we made a Turkmen version of s’mores using cookies (graham crackers aren’t a thing here), dark chocolate, and the closest thing to marshmallows we could find from Kamil Market. I did my best to get comfortable in my tent, waking up to a storm hours later. Thankfully, my tent proved to be water-resistant, while others’ weren’t. I guess I’d drawn the lucky straw that night.
There wasn’t a dull moment as we drove back into Ashgabat only to catch a train back out of town. We’d head to Mary, where we’d stay the night and then visit the ruins the next day. It would’ve made more sense to fly to Mary – we were given a choice – but there was something about riding the rails through Turkmenistan. I wanted the full experience, so we would train there and fly back the next day. I actually had one glorious nap on the train – it was so needed! And needless to say, my favorite parts of the journey were the small town whistle stops where I could spy some local action through the window. The people-watching continued to amaze me here. I wanted to stop and spend time in every town we passed.
We arrived in Mary super late and headed straight to bed. I was excited to see what the morning would bring.
The next morning it was up and at ’em to go see the ancient ruins of Merv. The visit there was nice, but why was I so excited to get back to Mary and explore the town?!
Man About Town
After lunch, and excited to be on our own to explore, Leila, Rafik, and I went on a two-hour walking tour of Mary. We passed by and admired the usual grand buildings and monuments to arrive at the local market, where we’d spend the rest of our time and definitely have the most fun. The indoor market was clean and organized and definitely not as chaotic as the usual African and Asian markets, but not as sterile and quiet as the European ones…a great middle ground. It was no surprise what we enjoyed most: conversing with the locals, who seemed to be having as much fun as we were. The afternoon at Mary’s market was probably the most involved we were able to be with locals in public the entire trip – perhaps they don’t see many tourists? Many of the local women went out of their way to talk with us and even asked to take photos – a far cry from some of those African markets where you get yelled at for even just sneaking a selfie. I was falling more and more in love with Turkmenistan by the minute. I would’ve loved another day in Mary, but that evening, we flew back to the capital.
The events of that final night will have to remain a mystery until my forthcoming novel. It was another memorable night with locals back in Ashgabat.
So Many New Friends
All of a sudden, towards the latter part of my trip, I began receiving dozens (if not hundreds) of unsolicited messages through Instagram, from locals in Turkmenistan. They were saying hello, introducing themselves, welcoming me to their country and even inviting me for meals. I soon realized the Instagram account @ashgabattoday had featured a few photos and some text about my visit. I’ve never felt so welcomed anywhere! Thank you, @ashgabattoday!
I was heartbroken this was my last day here, but elated it was an entirely “free” day in Ashgabat. Rafik and I spent the day combing the streets of the city, taking our time to literally stop and smell the roses – they plant rosebushes on the sidewalks and medians here! It was nice to be able to meander at our own pace and really take in the details of such an incredibly beautiful and odd city. We did our fair share of walking and used local taxis for the longer distances. I would’ve loved to try and figure out the local bus system, but we didn’t have the time – definitely a goal for the next trip here.
I was told Ashgabat had a book store featuring many titles about Turkmenistan’s “great leader,” and I definitely wanted in on this! Buying propaganda materials (books, posters, t-shirts, etc.) celebrating these quirky countries’ “glorious” leaders is always top on my list. They really do make the best souvenirs and mementos. I was given a general direction to the bookstore, however, after arriving in the area, Rafik and I couldn’t quite locate the shop. Through an open window of the university building, we asked two female students on lunch break if they could tell us how to get to the bookstore. Before you know it, we were being let into and through the locked doors of the school and ushered down the hallway past very curious students and faculty. Local infiltration challenge completed!
It didn’t take too long to realize our query about the “bookstore” had gotten lost in translation, as we were brought to the University’s library. No one in the immediate vicinity spoke much English – or at least they didn’t show it. Rafik and I kind of just stood there and looked around – excited to be inside a real live Turkmen University library, but also trying to play it cool and not set off any alarm bells. We mostly attracted curious looks and a few smiles, except for one, big, mean lady behind the desk – who wasted no time picking up the phone and quickly calling “someone.” I had no idea who she called and what she was saying, but I’d seen enough movies to tell by her expression that it was probably something along the lines of, “Hey security – two foreigners have breached the library…they need to be removed, immediately!” We took that as our cue to leave and scurried out of there before the police arrived. It would not have been prudent to stick around and wear out our welcome. Back out on the streets, once we were far enough away, Rafik and I giggled like school children who’d just stolen a cookie. What tourists get a backdoor tour of the national university?! Such good times! We finally found the bookstore, where I loaded up on way too many thick, heavy books about “The leader.” I would’ve bought more if I had more room in my luggage. These books were amazing!
We headed to another mall and wandered through it for a couple hours, ending up at an arcade where we showed the Turkmens how us Americans ruled at air hockey, before taking a spin on the indoor bumper cars. Once again, there were not many humans roaming the aisles whatsoever. I couldn’t help but wonder how in the world this mall and these business survive. How do they stay open? Make it make sense.
Every Last Detail
I was constantly impressed with the endless attention to detail and immaculate infrastructure that was Ashgabat. The streets literally sparkled. The bus stops, street lamps and billboards all looked like something you’d see at Disney World. In fact, did you know that only three colors of vehicles are allowed in the capital? Your vehicle must be either white, gold/champagne or silver. You won’t see any blue, red or green cars anywhere in Ashgabat. Cars must be clean at all times as well. Have an orange car and want to drive into the city? It simple won’t happen. Wild, right? There are a bunch of other “interesting” rules and laws in Turkmenistan, which can be easily Googled. Go down the rabbit hole, it’ll be worth it, I assure you.
The Elephant in the Room
As unorganized as this blog is, with its hodgepodge of meandering thoughts throughout its paragraphs, I guess now should be the part for some “societal” thoughts. Like my radio show, I do my very best to keep this website and my blogs “politics”-free. There is enough division and bickering all over our social media feeds every second of every day, and I refuse to add any more. After all, I’m not going to change anyone’s mind. And as I mentioned in the beginning of this article, I strongly wish to return to Turkmenistan, so it certainly wouldn’t be wise to inject political commentary. Now, that being said, I would be completely remiss if I didn’t comment (and compliment, really), on what I observed to be one of the cleanest and safest areas in the world, with some of the most beautiful and respectful human beings I’ve ever come in contact with. I realize I spent less than one week here, as a guest. My viewpoint is certainly slanted. But here are some of the things I absolutely loved about Turkmenistan…
The streets were immaculate. No litter, no graffiti, no homeless, no beggars, no one causing problems. Come to think of it, I don’t even remember hearing a car horn. People were very well dressed and extremely well mannered. Everyone I talked to was super respectful. There was an old-fashioned air of modesty and humility in every direction I looked – from the way people dressed and carried themselves in public, to what I watched and listened to on TV and radio. The whole experience felt like a throwback to simpler times – the era before “sex, drugs and rock and roll” took over. I’m sure I sound like my Dad here, but the scenes I saw and the vibes I experienced made me feel like I’d been transported to another time, long, long ago. I felt there was a great sense of national pride here. I also witnessed “law and order.” I got the feeling you don’t screw around in Turkmenistan – that lawlessness is not tolerated here. In other words, all of the great things we once had as a nation – these all seemed alive and well in Turkmenistan today. But at what price do all these things come? Something to think about.
The first president even wrote a book to live by: The Ruhnama. I haven’t read it (yet), but it’s mandatory reading for all Turkmen and is apparently a set of guidelines and rules to live by.
I’ve done a lot of thinking about our (American) society, in general, since my trip to Turkmenistan and have come to a few conclusions. I believe a good society is one that has a healthy mix of both personal rights (including expression) and law and order. A society that leans to the extreme either way can’t last. I’ve had to re-write this paragraph a dozen times, as I never want to come off as self-righteous or preachy – or cram any of my political ideals down my readers’ throats; but I can’t say I’m happy about what’s been happening in this country (US) for the last few years: seeing all of the crime that goes unpunished, the flood of homelessness on our city streets and the decrease in moral standards and decency in everyday culture from music to social media. I’m not here to stand on my soapbox and tell you right from wrong – but I will tell you I certainly did get a much different idea of society in just six short days in Turkmenistan. I’d be a fool to think I’m an expert on any of this, however as a traveler who visits places with his eyes and ears wide open, those were my impressions and observations of life in Turkmenistan…and I really liked it. It was refreshing. Could I very naïve? Sure. Did I love the beauty I saw and experienced in Turkmenistan. Yes.
So Long, Turkmenistan
I spent my last few hours roaming the streets of Ashgabat with Rafik and our new local friend. I just had to make one more shopping trip at Kamil Market, to bring some sweets home before our final dinner and goodbye. I left late that evening with a sort of sadness in my heart that I hadn’t felt since leaving Brasil that first time in 2002. It was a feeling of immense gratitude for the experiences I’d taken in, mixed with a sorrow, even a feeling of loss: leaving such a wonderful place and not knowing when I might return.
I was so overwhelmed with happiness and appreciation that my final country had turned out to be one of my top three. What were the chances, especially knowing that I didn’t plan for Turkmenistan to be #193? What if Cameroon was my last? How lucky am I?! But now I am stuck with the feeling of saudade – the only word that can truly describe what my heart is going through…saudade is an un-translatable Portuguêse word that can be at closest described as “a feeling of longing, melancholy, or nostalgia.” And just like I would return to Brasil to visit again, and then later to live – the seed has been planted in my heart and head for a return to Turkmenistan. For once you have saudade for something, there’s no turning back…it’s a switch not easily turned off.
Attention: Any Government Official in Turkmenistan
I love your country! Contact me if you need a radio or TV host in Ashgabat, a guest speaker, or just want to hang out with a fun dude who adores your vibes! Thanks for having me and I hope to come back soon.