Since the Chornobyl nuclear disaster in April 1986, the area remains a toxic, forbidden wasteland. The zone has become a place for meditation at the edge of geography where you can lose yourself. As with all dangerous places, this terra incognita attracts a wild assortment of adventurers who climb over the barbed wire illegally to witness the aftermath of catastrophe in the flesh. Breaking the law here is a pilgrimage: a metamodern sacred experience that coexists with thrash.

Markiyan Kamysh, whose father worked as an on-site disaster liquidator of Chornobyl, works as a “stalker,” guiding people who dare to venture into the disaster area for thrills. Kamysh tells us about thieves who hide in the abandoned buildings, the policemen who chase them, and the romantic utopists who have built families here, even as deadly toxic waste lingers in the buildings, playgrounds, and streams.