Nestled in the northeastern corner of Turkey, Artvin is a hidden gem where lush green mountains meet the Black Sea. This region, often overshadowed by Istanbul’s glamour or Cappadocia’s fairy chimneys, is a cultural microcosm reflecting Turkey’s rich heritage while grappling with modern global issues. From climate change to cultural preservation, Artvin’s story is one of resilience, adaptation, and timeless traditions.
Artvin’s culture is a mosaic of influences—Laz, Georgian, Hemshin, and Turkish communities have coexisted here for centuries. This diversity is palpable in everything from language to cuisine. The Laz people, for instance, still speak their native tongue, Lazuri, while Georgian influences linger in the region’s iconic stone bridges and churches.
The horon, a fast-paced circle dance, is Artvin’s cultural signature. Accompanied by the kemençe (a three-stringed fiddle), the horon isn’t just entertainment—it’s a communal ritual. In a world increasingly dominated by digital isolation, Artvin’s dance circles remind us of the power of human connection.
Artvin’s pristine landscapes are under siege. Rising temperatures and erratic rainfall threaten its famed tea plantations and hazelnut groves. The Kaçkar Mountains, once snow-capped year-round, now face shorter winters, disrupting local ecosystems. Farmers, who’ve relied on predictable seasons for generations, are now experimenting with drought-resistant crops—a quiet revolution in these ancient hills.
The construction of hydroelectric dams along the Çoruh River has sparked fierce debate. Proponents argue for clean energy and jobs; opponents warn of ecological disaster and cultural erasure. Villages like Yusufeli have been partially submerged, forcing relocations. The tension mirrors global dilemmas: How do we balance development with heritage?
The Black Sea’s hamsi (anchovies) are Artvin’s culinary crown jewel. Traditionally fried or baked in cornbread, this humble fish is now gaining international fame. Yet, overfishing and pollution loom. Local NGOs are promoting sustainable practices, turning hamsi into a symbol of both tradition and environmental stewardship.
In a world obsessed with fast food, Artvin’s kuymak (a cheesy cornmeal dish) and muhlama (a buttery fondue-like meal) are testaments to slow, deliberate cooking. Farmers’ markets here reject plastic packaging, favoring reusable baskets—a small but radical act in Turkey’s fight against plastic waste.
Instagram has discovered Artvin. The Şavşat Karagöl (Black Lake) now draws crowds, but locals worry about "overtourism." Unlike Antalya’s resorts, Artvin’s charm lies in its authenticity. Community-led ecotourism projects aim to protect this delicate balance, offering homestays and guided hikes that respect the land.
Young Artvinlis are leveraging technology to preserve their culture. Apps teaching Lazuri, YouTube channels documenting folk songs, and Instagram pages showcasing traditional weaving techniques are bridging generations. In a globalized world, these digital archives are modern-day lifelines for endangered traditions.
Artvin’s story is still being written—a dance between old and new, local and global. Its challenges are universal, but so is its lesson: Culture isn’t static. It breathes, adapts, and endures.