The Gate to Hell, Turkmenistan

October 2024

Matt, Mike, and I sat in the backseat of an early 2000’s sedan. Our driver and Andrew, our guide, were in the front two seats. We rode for about four hours, crammed in the backseat, on bumpy roads, full of potholes. Our driver did an excellent job at swerving back and forth to miss them, and we swayed along with the movement. The last hour, the road turned to dirt and we bounced around like popcorn in a kettle.

When we could, we closed our eyes and tried to sleep. We hadn’t sleep the night before, since we had an overnight flight, and spent the entire day touring Ashgabat. I was overwhelmed, in a curious and good way, and it wore me out. But I also didn’t want to miss what was next – the real reason we came to Turkmenistan.

In the middle of Turkmenistan, with nothing surrounding it, lies a gas crater that has been burning for over 50 years. It’s often referred to as The Gate to Hell. Day and night, wind or rain, it burns around the clock. It’s said that 50 some years ago, a worker was drilling for natural gas and the crater collapsed. The worker and all his equipment fell in, and since then, the gas crater has been burning. There’s nowhere else in the world with this phenomenon, and it’s a site to see.

The sun was still up when we turned around a corner and saw the crater at the bottom of a hill. We pulled as close as we could, all got out of the car, and walked towards it. The heat came pouring out at us. It felt like a large campfire as we got closer. We snapped a few photos before Andrew said, “Let’s get going. We’ll come back after dark. It’s much better than. But now, let’s get to camp and have dinner.”

We drive just a few minutes away to a yurt camp where we stayed the night. Andrew showed us our yurt – three cots, one for each us, were positioned in a U-shape. He pointed off in the distance. “Over there are the bathrooms. They are communal and open all night long.” He looked at me and I raised my eyebrows. There was a path but most of the camp was made of desert sand. “If you want, you can just go in the sand over there behind your yurt,” he said.

“Perfect,” I said, thankfully. It felt so…wrong, especially compared to the rigidness we had experienced in the city. But I was thankful that I ‘had permission’ to use the sand instead of making my way over 100 yards in the sand, which would have been virtually impossible.

The three of us each grabbed a beer from the cooler and sat near our yurt, around a card table, while Andrew finished barbequing our dinner. We had chicken and another type of meat – I’m not sure what kind. There were some roasted vegetables also, and all-in-all, it was quite a tasty meal for being in the middle of the desert.

Andrew joined us for dinner and we asked more about him. It felt more relaxed out in the desert, away from the properness of the city. He told us about his girlfriend whom he hoped would be his wife someday. The custom in Turkmenistan is for the male to ask the female’s father for permission to marry. The male then pays the father, usually around $5,000-6,000 USD. In Turkmenistan, there are two wedding events – one for each family. And they are costly. Andrew went on to explain that he couldn’t afford to pay that much for a dowry payment and two wedding events, so his girlfriend and he were hoping to go to Russia soon and marry there.

I was finally starting to experience the people…a little. Andrew, who had seemed emotionless, had a girlfriend. He wanted to have a wife. To have a family. I knew it, that deep down, he was no different than me. He wanted the same things out of life – love, and happiness, and joy.

As soon as the sun started to set, Andrew told us that we needed to get to the crater. “It gets very crowded, so it’s best to get there early for pictures.”

We spent well over an hour walking around the entire crater, taking pictures of this magical hole in the ground that was burning on fire. There weren’t a lot of controls in place to make sure people didn’t fall in, people just respected the edge of the crater. We’d back away and feel the cool desert air, and get closer to feel like marshmallows being roasted.

When we were done with the experience, we drove back to camp. On the way, we saw a small animal in the sand. We asked Andrew what it was and he told us it was a hedgehog. The car stopped, he got out, chased after it like a young schoolboy, finally caught it, and brought it over to the car for us. He was laughing and we were laughing. It was another moment where I saw Andrew’s personality come out, and I appreciated the innocence that came with chasing a hedgehog across the desert sand.

That night, the three of us slept in our clothes and special sleeping bags to keep us warm. There wasn’t electricity in the yurts, and the desert air was cold. Matt and I slept solid, for nearly eight hours. When I woke up, Mike explained that there was a party in the yurt next door, and it went on all night long. “Those Russians really know how to party,” he said, as he explained that they were up until around 5 am.

We made the same drive back to the city that we did on the way there. Bouncy, dirty, and rough. We stopped at a horse farm near the city. The former President adored horses, and they have become a very important part of the Turkmenistan culture. We took a rest in the same hotel before dinner.

We ate at a local pizza restaurant where we each pulled out our cell phones. Maybe there’s WiFi here? we thought. About 20 different connections popped up, and within seconds, they all disappeared. We asked our waitress if there was WiFi, and the response was orchestrated, “It’s not working today.” We were back in the city, and that was evident.

Andrew took us to another memorial near a park. The sun was setting and there was music with people. Finally some people! He explained that there was a festival that night and the locals were all there to celebrate. Mothers pushing strollers, teenagers on bicycles, children running in the streets. It felt so…normal.

I wondered again how much access to other parts of the world these people had. I wondered what their homes looked like. I wondered what they talked about with their families. I wondered so much about their lives. It felt like I was on another planet, and selfishly, I couldn’t wait for my WiFi to start working, so I could know what was going on my world.

How is it possible, that on the same planet, places like this, full of marvel and natural beauty and curiosity can co-exist? We are so disconnected from each other, and yet the chasing of a hedgehog can bring a smile to all of our faces. The chance at falling in love is a dream. The connection, while perhaps the most distance of all, is still there.