Salt Traces is asking you: do you have a seashell somewhere nearby?

Do you have a seashell somewhere nearby? Could you put it close to your ear? Did somebody already tell you that you would hear the sound of sea waves if you did that? This is more or less the place this newsletter comes from, not directly from the sea but from intense memories of it- from sensorial experiences that arise when you reminisce about the sea. It also comes from memories of juicy, sweet, crunchy red watermelon bites accompanied by some white cheese wraps. Or from wanting to buy that corn sold on the shore, but your mum not trusting the cleanliness of it… that longing for corn, the existence of which is only in someone’s announcement. The seller passes you by and disappears on the horizon… There are so many memories of the sea entangled with the food, not only the food that comes from the sea directly but also the food eaten on its shores. Most interestingly!! how much one salts their pasta is correlated with the salinity levels of the sea in the vicinity of the area one has had a chance to grow up. Did you know? We didn’t, but came to discover after we came back from the sea in Athens when we were thinking of how to name our collective. So this a speculative fact from one of the chefs that we follow, but it also became a relevant storyline for us and shaped our decision to name the collective Salt Traces. Salt- the grain in which the sea and food meet.

This newsletter and research is a journey of four women who grew up on the shores of the Caspian Sea. We aim to start a research project with the Caspian Sea and create a community of artists and researchers with whom we could expand into exploring the impact of climate change on other water bodies through stories of food and communities living nearby.

So far the Caspian Sea and communities around it have been interwoven with the narratives around oil. But climate change, decreasing levels of the sea, and extinction of sea species drew our attention to this sea with a new glance. We believe there are many more stories to unravel about this unique water body, which is the largest lake on Earth. The Caspian holds significant value for the communities that live around it with a diverse range of cultural, ethnic, and linguistic backgrounds, that are reflected in their cuisine. With this project, we aim to create a space for discussion and reflection on climate change and its impact on daily life through an exploration of food recipes, and daily eating habits. Food is capable of opening up new venues for discussions around the underexplored topic of climate change and its impacts on the communities in the area. Through creating shared connections with food, we hope to also look at how the ingredients we use have altered as a result of climate change. 

Growing up on the shores of the Caspian, we have mapped out some similar but also different patterns in our perception of the sea which we will share in this newsletter interwoven with narratives from research findings. The main commonality in our perception of the sea is that looking at our childhood we would associate her with warm summer memories in which food would be central: we would go to the beach with watermelon and white cheese and enjoy delicious snacks after swimming. When away from the sea, we would get hyped when we would find out there is some caviar decorating lavish tables for weddings, which has now become a delicacy attainable only for a few. Unfortunately, growing up, our relationship with the Caspian has changed. With oil tankers annually dumping tons of pollutants into the water, the entry of waste from factories, the release of urban and rural wastewater, and other harmful human interventions have turned the Caspian into a water body that we exploit, bringing it into almost a state of collapse.

In the backdrop of all these thoughts a quote from Haitian-Canadian writer Dany Laferrière resonated very strongly with us: the sea is the greatest living space on our planet, yet we turn our backs on it every day. Via this project, we will attempt to face the sea, and to face it not only as four of us but by bringing stories from fishermen, inhabitants of the Caspian’s immediate vicinity, researchers and scientists working on relevant subjects, and memories of our own, our families and friends. This newsletter will also be an invitation to think along with us and revoke your memories of the sea or any water body that you relate to the most. 

The newsletter will come to you every quarter or so with updates from our research process and some poetic reflections. We promise to keep light but also insightful - subscribe and become part of this participatory research journey.