At the Bottom of the Pit
Zsolt, a local ranger, stands in an 11.5-meter-deep dry wildlife trough in the middle of the ‘Sand Ridges’. The groundwater level drops by about half a meter every year.
At the Bottom of the Pit
Zsolt, a local ranger, stands in an 11.5-meter-deep dry wildlife trough in the middle of the ‘Sand Ridges’. The groundwater level drops by about half a meter every year.
“Water Guardians” Resisting Climate Collapse on the Hungarian Great Plain
2024-2026
The Hungarian Great Plain was once a land shaped by water—rivers, wetlands, and fertile soils sustaining generations. Over the past century, it has been radically transformed: rivers straightened, marshes drained, and water diverted through canal systems designed to control the landscape. These interventions have made the region one of the most vulnerable to climate change in Hungary.
Today, the Great Plain is drying. Groundwater levels are falling, droughts are intensifying, and sudden rainfall disappears as quickly as it arrives. In the Danube–Tisza Sand Ridge, where more than 600,000 people live, water scarcity is no longer an abstract threat but a daily reality.
Yet many people remain.
Bound to the land by memory, identity, and a deep-rooted sense of independence, they continue to live on homesteads that once held value across generations. For them, leaving is not simply a decision—it is almost unimaginable.
Among them are the Water Guardians: local farmers and volunteers who respond to the crisis through small, deliberate acts. By blocking channels and retaining water, they attempt to slow its disappearance and restore balance to the land. Their interventions are modest in scale, yet they offer a form of resistance—an alternative to a system that has long drained the landscape. Their goal is simple: to gain time and life before it's too late.
This project explores the intersection of environmental change and human resilience, reflecting on the fragile relationship between water, land, and those who choose to stay.
According to legend, the ancestors of the Hungarians migrated and eventually settled in the heart of the Great Hungarian Plain, driven partly by the promise of a dream and partly by climatic pressures — recurring droughts and food shortages — that forced them to abandon their nomadic way of life. In those times, the fertile lands, rich in water and wildlife and crossed by two great rivers, offered favorable conditions for life and growth and for the emergence of agricultural and pastoral ways of life. Yet, because of its geographical position, the region and its people have been struck many times by the storms of history. The homesteads and farmlands were plundered by nomadic tribes or seized by political powers serving their own interests. The world of the farmsteads came to an end after World War II, when Stalinist state socialism and nearly fifty years of Soviet occupation forced radical change. Peasants were driven — often by force — into collective farms; their lands were nationalized, exhausted under industrial agriculture, and later fragmented and dispersed during the political transition of the late 1980s. The Great Plain, which covers more than two-thirds of the country, has been continuously reshaped to suit human needs. Rivers were straightened and confined between dikes and sluices; marshes were drained; waters were diverted through canal networks. The combined effect of these interventions has made the Great Plain the area most exposed to climate change in Hungary today. As life on the farmsteads becomes increasingly difficult and offers little perspective, most young people now seek their future in the cities. Among the rural population, rates of suicide and alcoholism in middle and old age are among the highest in Europe.
The lands and homesteads that once held value across generations are losing their worth, while the region — responsible for nearly 80 percent of the country’s total agricultural output — is moving steadily toward desertification and ecological collapse. Climate forecasts predict that between 2050 and 2100, the area will become entirely unsuitable for farming. With deteriorating economic prospects, collapsing infrastructure, depopulating villages, and worsening climatic conditions, the Great Plain is turning into a place of dreamers and solitaries — a metaphor for a slowly vanishing Eden. Adaptability, struggle, willpower, endurance, and humanity — even under harsh and rapidly changing circumstances. It is a remembrance of water and of the most intimate relationship between water and humankind. The people who still live here are bound by this connection: to nature, to the desire for self-reliance, and to the search for freedom. Solitude, unfulfilled dreams, lost and reborn hopes, the will to live, and the constant cycle of struggle, birth, and death shape them just as the Desolate Plain does — a land that has never been gentle with its inhabitants. Narrowing, yet still offering both refuge from the technocratic world and a space for freedom, it endures. The pride forged in independence and perseverance, and the defiance of time and the elements, have sunk deep roots. Those born here often remain, even as the land dries out completely. For the people of the Great Plain, the center of the world is their small patch of earth — their homestead. To them, the idea of living elsewhere, otherwise, or differently is almost unimaginable.