The Questions Everyone Asks
When I first began telling people we were moving to Ashgabat Turkmenistan, there were two reactions we received.
Is that a country? Where is it?
or
They immediately imagine something mysterious and profoundly foreign while picturing the opening scene of Aladdin. Complete with sand dunes and magic lamps.
If you’ve ever been curious about what daily life in Turkmenistan actually looks like, this is an ordinary Tuesday from our family’s life in Ashgabat.
What Daily Life in Ashgabat Actually Looks Like
The reality is much less dramatic.
Most days look surprisingly ordinary, just in a different location.
4:45am—Before the City Wakes
Most days for me begin before the sun rises. I opt for an extra early morning to guarantee some quiet time before the day begins. Moms and Dads out there who who know, know. The streets are empty this early and as my coffee brews the rainbow color of the buildings that light up the night begin to shut off one by one.
Coffee
I take my coffee in the kitchen while I check my email and assignments for my Master’s classes. No drip coffee here- just pressed—and it comes with a steep learning curve. But after nearly a year I can say I’ve mastered this skill.
I’ve had to get used to not having sweetened creamer but now, I find that its too sweet for my liking. Foamed whole milk does the trick just fine.
Slowly the sun begins to rise and as it tops the buildings across the street my kitchen is flooded with morning light. The sunrise reflects of all the white marble and it is glorious every morning and in every type of weather I’ve witnessed here.
Then the school-day rush begins. My phone logs it as a “morning walk” but what is really happening is micro-managing of timings and tasks that are honestly astounding in their number.
I wake my son, teenage angst and all, feed him a quick breakfast and get him washed, dressed and out the door to walk his dog.
Food
During the first phase of his waking up, I juggle making his and his sister’s breakfast and then packing all of our lunches. Nothing spectacular, just simple and efficient foods.
The menu is usually some form of a Nutella sandwich or a Biscuit Butter and Jam sandwich (peanut butter is a luxury that is very hard to come by here and “Jelly” just simply doesn’t exist). We pair this with cookies, crackers or pretzels.
On the good days, we get to pack left over dinners from the night before. Something that is truly new and different for us is having a housekeeper. I finally broke down and hired one this last month and my life has changed dramatically for the better. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would have this luxury. She comes three times a week to clean and cook for us. The relief I have from coming home to a clean house cannot be understated. I am so very grateful to her.
Finally, when the kids are fed, cleaned and dressed we tuck Lucky safely inside Drake’s bathroom and head 12 floors down in the elevator to meet our Driver. Americans here are not allowed to drive and women are only allowed to drive after they turn 40 (which is now speeding toward me at the same speed of the plane that brought us here).
Commute
When we first arrived I thought I would never get used to being driven around. I was so used to the independence and the freedom of just being able to jump in the car and drive. No scheduling, just driving. But after just a few weeks my opinion change—I am so very glad I do not have to shoulder the stress of this traffic and the street laws & customs where lanes are just mere “suggestions” and street and building signs don’t exist at all.
Our commute lasts all of 5-7 minuets to the school building where we are let in by guards – a new routine courtesy of the ongoing war. Then we make our way into our gated and marble school with its own real grass courtyard. In the desert, having grass that grows is a bit of a status symbol.
7:30 am—The Part that feels Familiar
The school part of our day is perhaps the most familiar. We all head to my classroom and begin to prepare for our day.
Prep
Last minuet homework checks for Drake. Class prepping for myself. Shortly after we settle in, our Teacher-family friends begin to arrive.
This year we found something I didn’t expect: a community. In two weeks many of these friends will leave for new countries, new schools, and new adventures. But for one year, in a city none of us planned to call home, our lives overlapped.
As the school day begins, much is the same-only under a different name. I teach first grade, called 6yo here. My students and children learn to read & write and about science and “cultural studies” instead of social studies. They go to art, music, library, PE, foreign languages and Technology classes.
They play outside and eat lunch together.
Teach
I have found myself pushed professionally as an international teacher in ways I never considered before. In my previous teaching experiences I might have had 2-3 students who knew another language and maybe one who was an ESL (English as a Second Language). Now EVERY student in my classroom knows at least 2 languages if not 3 or 4. My students speak everything from Malay, Arabic, Russian, Turkmen to Lithuanian. It’s not unusual for one student to answer me in English, another in Russian, and a third to help translate for both.
Our school grounds are magnificent compared to any public school I have seen in American, and many private schools. The class sizes are wonderfully small compared to the US and the expectations for students are higher. I am so very privileged to send my own children to this school. Nothing close to this quality of education would have been possible for them before this move.
At the end of the day though, the teaching is much the same, it is only the setting that is unusual.
4:15pm— The things that took getting used to.
Many of the practicalities of daily life are what stand out as different.
The things you wouldn’t think to consider are the same things that are the most different.
Internet is absurdly cheap, about $15 per month but also heavily restricted. As a bonus though— you begin to refocus on the IRL things in life. It brings you out of your cell phones and back into what is happening all around you.
Transportation
The first time I tried to navigate the bus-systems solo I had no idea where I was going, every building here looks the same. We have learned to navigate public busses and taxis for the first time as we also struggled with a language barrier. The importance of body language cannot be undersold here— particularly when navigating new bus routes or taxies where no one speaks English. I have more than once handed my phone to a taxi driver and called in a favor from a local friend to get me home.
Banking is unique here in Ashgabat as well. It is a cash based society. Ordering food, shopping, clothing delivered and not pre-paying felt very wrong at first. But now it’s almost natural for us. You can order anything you can imagine from Instagram and have it delivered to your home.
Communication
Before we even arrived on this side of the globe, I was most worried about Language barriers. How would we order food? What if we needed help? Directions? Negotiate prices?
Google Translate has been invaluable. So have local friends who are willing to rescue us when translation apps fail. (Aya, I’m looking at you.)
The longer we’ve lived here, the more we’ve realized that daily life isn’t nearly as foreign as we imagined it would be.
People still need food, clothes, and friends. People are still people.
Shopping
Shopping here is very different than what we were used to. Negotiating is not just common but expected. Grocery stores are something akin to competitive sports here. It is NOT to be taken lightly.
My first mistake shopping here came from my southern roots of giving the eldery the right of way.
It felt natural to me, it was expected of me back in Tennessee.
It was a weakness here.
The first time I politely stepped aside for an elderly woman, three other shoppers cut into the space before I could grab what I needed.
Malls here are very reminiscent of malls during the 90s back in the states. People go to the mall not just to shop, but to eat and to socialize. Sometimes you buy nothing at all, you are just there for the experience.
And what an experience they are.
They have VR arcades for the older kids.
Drop and play areas for the younger kids.
There are ziplines and trampoline parks.
And of course…countless dress shops.
Clothing
If there is one thing that stands out about Ashgabat it is their dresses. They come in every color and hue of the rainbow. Pattern and designs you would never imagine.
Simply put— they are georgeous.
And yes— they are long and they are modest. Some of this is due to culture or old religious traditions but no one forces you to cover yourself—its just the smart thing to do. People have been dressing in long flowy dresses for eons here because it is the desert. It keeps the sun off your skin and it gives you airflow. They actually keep you cooler when it is 100+ degrees outside than short-shorts and bikini tops will.
This is an area of American life that I never fully got behind. The hotter it got, the fewer and shorter the clothes got back home. For the very first time in my life— I felt like my sense of style, my preference of long skirts in particular, blended right in with everyone else.
9:00 pm— When Ashgabat comes Alive
The evenings and nights have become my favorite time to be outside. During the day the sun is blinding all on its own. Throw in the reflection off of the all white marble city and it is instant migraine inducing. During the day people stay inside, the curtians are drawn against the sun’s harsh rays.
But the city comes to life at night. As soon as dusk begins to settle in the people crowd the streets. Picnic blankets are laid on every patch of grass you can find. They are eating, talking, socializing. The sweet scent of the mimosa trees that have been baking in the sun all day is dispersed by the finally cool breezes that creep in off the mountains that border Iran.
Everywhere you hear talking and laughing.
Children are racing bicycles and scooters down the streets.
The neon lights of the buildings light up the night.
We have begun taking nightly walks. The kids, I and Lucky gear up and just walk. We stroll the city and talk about our day. We connect in ways that were impossible to us before.
Just Another Tuesday
Life here isn’t what most people imagine.
It wasn’t what I had pictured either.
And it certainly wasn’t anything that was described online. Please, please please—disregard 95% of all YouTube videos you may find on Ashgabat. Most focus on the supposed emptiness and government control while completely ignoring what daily life actually feels like.
Most days aren’t adventures. They are packing lunches, teaching students, finishing homework and reheating coffee for the 3rd time that day.
The difference is simply where those ordinary moments happen.
Somewhere along the way, this experience stopped feeling temporary, stopped being “odd” or “weird”, they became ordinary.
And somehow over the last year, those ordinary moments have become our life.
The Moment I Noticed we had Adapted
Now I know which grocery stores carry the “good meat” and which to avoid. I can hail a taxi and give my address in Russian. I can let my teenage son explore a foreign city and trust he’ll find his way home. My daughter knows our building’s store owner, Omar by name and can pay for her own afterschool treats on her own.
It’s a far cry from our first days here.
The funny thing is I don’t remember exactly when it happened.
There wasn’t some defining moment when everything clicked into place.
We know this isn’t forever.
In another year or two we’ll likely be packing boxes again, learning new streets and new routines somewhere else.
But that doesn’t make this chapter any less real.
For now, in this chapter— this is where life is happening.
It is funny to think that what now feels routine once began with three days of travel, airport floor camps, and a very memorable arrival in Ashgabat.
Read that story in 12 suitcases & The Journey Part II.
I started this blog because I couldn’t find honest accounts of what international teaching and family life abroad actually looked like. Most of what I found was either outdated, incomplete, or skipped over the everyday realities.
That’s why I started sharing ours—one ordinary day at a time.
Ashgabat won’t be our last stop. There are more countries, more lessons, more surprises, and undoubtedly more stories ahead.
If you’re curious about what life overseas actually looks like—the ordinary days as much as the extraordinary ones—subscribe below and join us for the next chapter.
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