Muynaq and Aral Sea: A Journey Through Time and Sound
The Road Less Traveled: Finding STIHIA in the Heart of Muynaq
During my travels through Uzbekistan, I was fortunate to discover the electronic music festival STIHIA, which happens annually in Muynaq, a town in the western Uzbekistan I had been keen to visit. The timing couldn’t have been better—it coincided perfectly with my plans to explore the country. I adjusted my travel route to ensure I didn’t miss this opportunity and boarded a night train from Samarkand to Urgench. There, I faced the typical taxi hassles at the station, where drivers offer inflated prices. It’s a frustrating but familiar part of the journey, and although I’m often exhausted from the long rides and heavy backpack, I love the thrill of haggling for a local price—it always makes the adventure more authentic and fun!
From Urgench, it was a six-hour drive to Muynaq, which required switching cars three times. The cars were devoid of air conditioning, so we endured the scorching heat with nothing but open windows. Waiting for the car to fill up with passengers in the oppressive heat was hellish, but it was also a part of the adventure—and a way to save around 80 euros (on a months-long backpacking adventure, that’s quite a meaningful saving).
Muynaq was wrapped in an air of mystery from the moment I arrived. Accommodation was difficult to find and book online, and contacting local owners was a challenge due to language barriers, with most speaking Russian, Uzbek, or the local Karakalpak dialect. Despite these hurdles, I eventually booked a room at a local guesthouse called Hotel Muynaq, which turned out to be more of a hostel. Initially, I was disappointed by the lack of privacy, but I soon changed my perspective. The vibe with the other 4 boys and 2 girls reminded me of high school trips and summer camps, and we all bonded over our shared excitement for the festival.
Sipping on a refreshing traditional Uzbek fermented milk drink as the sun blazes at 35 degrees
The group was a mix of professionals and city-dwellers from Tashkent, Almaty, Bishkek, Dushanbe, and even travelers from Europe and beyond. Mek, a girl from Bukhara with an Iranian background, a unique neo-punk fashion style, and a sense of humor that gelled well with mine, was an incredible festival buddy, and we built a strong connection over the four days at the festival. Zhanar, another girl from Almaty in Kazachstan, an inspiring and passionate artist explored the grounds with us and we later met in Khiva for a sunrise stroll through the old town after the festival. For many, STIHIA has become an unmissable event—a community that transcends borders.
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The Heart of Muynaq: Music, Art, and Ecology
As the days passed, I began to understand that the STIHIA festival was not just about music—it was also a platform to raise awareness about Muynaq’s history, the Aral Sea disaster, and the broader environmental crisis. The festival draws attention to the ecological devastation of the region and, through art, music, and storytelling, urges people to reflect on the human impact on nature.
Aerial view of the ship cemetery in Muynaq
Muynaq’s most powerful symbol of this catastrophe is the once-thriving Aral Sea, which has shrunk dramatically over the past few decades due to the aggressive irrigation systems built by the Russians for the cotton industry, turning much of the surrounding land into a toxic desert. The location of the festival itself was haunting—set against a ship cemetery, where rusting vessels serve as a chilling reminder of the past. These decaying ships were part of the region's once-vibrant maritime economy, now stranded in the desert, with no sea to float them. It made for a dramatic backdrop to the festival's alternative music stage, where experimental musicians performed until sunrise, with the eerie glow of lights attracting moths and insects that fluttered around like chemical particles in the air.
The ship graveyard provided a fantastic backdrop for the alternative music stage
A particularly moving moment came when a group of British anthropology students from Oxford University premiered their award-winning sustainable film Amu Darya: River to a missing sea — a powerful portrayal of what Muynaq used to be: a fishing town on the Aral Sea’s edge. Through interviews with elderly locals, they captured stories of a bygone era when the sea was a source of life and joy. They spoke to people including a 90-year-old writer who remembered swimming daily in the sea, competing with local boys, and old fishermen who once reveled in the sound and sight of the waves. Their interviews also touched on the tragic environmental impact: the toxic chemicals flowing from upstream affecting the health and fertility of the local population. It’s hard to believe that a place once brimming with life is now in the middle of a vast desert. Yet, despite the overwhelming sadness, the people of Muynaq remain resilient and attached to their land, unable to imagine living anywhere else.
Nukus Museum of Art: A Hidden Gem of Central Asia
While in the area, I also visited the Nukus Musem of Art, located about three hours southeast of Muynaq. I had heard about the gallery from a fellow festival-goer and was eager to explore the Savitsky collections. The Guardian refers to this museum as 'The Lost Louvre of Uzbekistan' and provides an elaborate view of what can be found there. (Personally, I would take the somewhat negative sentiment of this article with a pinch of salt. Travelers who choose to visit do not look for the infrastructure of the developed world but seek adventure.)
V. Ufimcev (1905–1968): Tea Party; Unknown Author: Aral Sea
The gallery featured several pieces on the Aral Sea, including stunning landscape paintings that captured the sea's former grandeur and its cultural significance to the region. There were also works that depicted the nomadic lifestyle, the tradition of tea-drinking, and the exchange of goods—powerful reminders of a culture and way of life that has been irrevocably altered by environmental disaster.
J. Izantaev (1943 – 2009): Courtyard; N. Kashina (1886 – 1977): Wash
U. Saparov (1943 – 2008): Rest
My personal favorite—a gentle reminder to pause and rest. In those moments, we can find joy in the little things and feel deeply connected to nature.
The Aral Sea: A Stark Warning for the Future
Visiting the Aral Sea left me with an Armageddon-like sense of eeriness. The desolate landscape felt like something out of an apocalypse, a grim reminder of how far humanity can push the limits of nature. The ecological catastrophe is a stark example of what happens when commercial interests and short-term solutions take precedence over long-term environmental sustainability. The drying up of the Aral Sea has not only altered the lives of Muynaq’s residents, but also serves as a global warning. If we don’t take environmental protection seriously, we risk repeating this tragedy on an even larger scale.
A parched seabed layered with salt; a canyon sculpted by the desiccated Aral Sea
As I write this article under the stars, in a tent near the Fann Mountains on my way to Alaudin Lake, I’m reminded of how precious and fragile nature is. This beautiful landscape, with its snowy peaks, juniper trees, and pristine lakes, stands in stark contrast to the desolation of the Aral Sea. Nature gives us everything we need and it’s our responsibility to protect it.
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STIHIA Festival: More Than Just Music
The STIHIA festival stands out because it not only brings together talented artists from around Central Asia and beyond, but it also fosters a sense of community and social awareness. The local attendance was especially heartening—people of all ages, from traditional women in their regional attire to youth eager to embrace the vitality of life. For many in Muynaq, the festival was a rare burst of energy, a chance to interact with outsiders and showcase their region’s resilience.
While some locals, like a doctor I met, were critical of the festival, viewing it as a disruption to their quiet lives, many others saw it as an opportunity for growth. The influx of visitors brings much-needed economic benefits, as locals provide accommodation, food, and services to festival-goers. Beyond the economic boost, the festival allows Muynaq to share its story with the world and invites others to learn from the mistakes of the past.
A Nod to the DJs and Future Festivals
I also want to give a special mention to the talented DJs who performed at the festival (REM AKA, SAO, Yoldosh Music, Mari Breslavets, isl, Sabine, Xyarim, Tshunk, The Lipsky borthers from Simple Symmetry, and others). Their dedication to building a local electronic music culture is inspiring, especially in a region where this genre is still relatively underappreciated. Their performances were exceptional, and I look forward to experiencing their sets again at future festivals. Speaking of which, I also learned from SAO, a cool DJ from Bishkek whom I shared a ride and laughter from Nukus to Khiva, about Kolfest, an electronic music festival held annually in July at Issyk-Kul Lake in Kyrgyzstan, as well as an arts and music festival being organized in Artuch, Fann Mountains, next year. These events, focused on local culture and the underground scene, deserve more attention and could help draw a new wave of travelers interested in more authentic, meaningful experiences.
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From the rhythms of STIHIA to the eerie silence of Muynaq, the sounds have left a lasting impression. Keep exploring, keep discovering, and keep wandering!
Always in Wonder Loop,
Mirka