3.5 stars
Expectations are everything. For a self-published Peace Corps memoir,* this is great! I liked it a good bit, though it’s not one I expect many people would want to go out of their way to read.
Tranum, who has also worked as a journalist, spent about two years in Turkmenistan as a Peace Corps volunteer in 2004-2006. He was officially assigned to teach health classes, but quickly found all his duties and initiatives bound up in red tape; the totalitarian government exercises a high level of control over everything (simply driving around required constantly presenting documents at checkpoints) and seemed to want him there more as a PR statement of legitimacy than to do any actual work. This book chronicles his attempts to get something done, his life with several host families (he eventually transfers from an urban to a rural posting, resulting in much better quality of life), and some travels around the country.
And it’s an interesting book. Turkmenistan is little-known to most outsiders, a lightly-populated petrostate still struggling to find its way after the fall of the Soviet Union; between the decline of the Silk Road in the late middle ages and the late 19th century Russian conquest, its people largely lived traditional nomadic or subsistence agricultural lives. It’s not as poor as many countries featured in Peace Corps memoirs (the others I’ve read were all set in destitute rural areas in Africa), but the absurdly imposing bureaucracy plus government corruption makes it near impossible to get ahead. In trying to accomplish anything, Tranum finds himself harassed by the secret police (though they’re usually polite about it)! But I had the sense that his having some cultural—or perhaps economic—common ground, around basic things like what a home is and how it is used, expecting to have a job or small business rather than exclusively farming, etc., made it easier for Tranum to build friendships than for volunteers in some other places.
So it’s a nice on-the-ground view of a little-known country, and I appreciated that Tranum has also researched Turkmenistan’s history, which he weaves into the text. His stories are interesting, and the short chapters make it easy to dip in and out; I found reading about 30 pages a day to be the right pace. As befits a journalist, the writing is solid: besides having a bit more than its share of typos, there’s nothing about it that screams “self-published” and it’s quite similar to the other Peace Corps memoirs I’ve read. I empathized with Tranum’s difficult position and appreciated his self-awareness and his willingness to engage with and listen to those around him. His forging ahead with weaving a carpet despite the discouragement around doing women’s work was also cool.
Not a mind-blowing book, but a solid read. A fun Easter egg for me was that a relative of mine, who is no longer living, visited Turkmenistan roughly around the same time as the author, and I recognized her descriptions of the capital city in Tranum’s. Huge imposing architecture but creepily empty, it sounds like more a vanity piece for the then president-for-life than anything else.
* Peace Corps memoirs get a bit of a bad rap, I suspect because it’s the rare subgenre disproportionately read by people who don’t actually like it: many people read these books only because of their own Peace Corps affiliation. Personally, I have none. It was the first self-published book I’ve ever read, to my knowledge, and for that reason carefully chosen.