Do You Research the Places You Write About?

Blog #12, November 28, 2020

Someone asked me, "Do you research the places you write about?"

Yes, but after I have been there. I work from real life threaded with strands of fanciful imagination to weave a story. I write about places I have visited. One's experiences and understandings, attitudes, and approaches to life distill travel elements in a personal way. You and I may go to the exact same place at the exact same time and perceive it entirely differently. That's what makes life so interesting.

I first understood this phenomenon when talking to my four siblings. We grew up together and shared the same story ostensibly, yet each person's remembrances and understandings of our shared history vary, sometimes a lot. Magnify that by people you don't know, and you have a plethora of realities. But you can only be true to your perceptions. We're hardwired that way, for better or worse.

Yes, I have traveled a lot, roughing it mostly. Those with gypsy hearts will understand the thrill of that, the raw experience it offers. I need to know about other cultures, peoples' beliefs, customs, religious/spiritual orientations, art, and cuisine, but more than that, I want to witness the grand scheme, the design that makes us both different and the same.

I feel we, humans, are far more alike than different. Only "fear of the other" separates us. It causes a cloud to pass over our common humanity and cast a shadow of misunderstanding on our human family and our responsibility for other life forms and for the earth itself. Travel provides multiple lessons in equality and respect that push me to examine myself.

In my writing, even though it's magical realism fantasy, I rely on my travel journals to keep the experiences fresh. Then I research various details and aspects that seem pertinent to the storyline. So, I guess you would say I have a fusion approach.

In Cup of the Shining Sun, the main character, Askara, travels to Greece, Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan, the north of India, and returns home to California. The cup's legend travels more widely, but the pivotal plot point had to do with Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia in 1974. I had a letter of introduction to meet his nephew at Jubilee Palace in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia's capital. I never met his nephew, who was away, but I sat with my fellow traveler Sarah in the garden and saw the emperor speak to a visiting official. Selassie was a petite man with a gigantic presence and a 3,000-year heritage, being the descendant of the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon. He made a profound impression on me in those few minutes.

I was oblivious to the political situation at that time, but Sarah and I were likely the last foreign travelers to see him, as she later informed me. The diplomatic corps had been recalled, unbeknownst to us. We did notice the local people seemed very happy to see us. I assumed they were, by nature, joyous and generous.

Looking back, I wonder if we inadvertently gave them a feeling of normalcy in a turbulent time. Tourists were still around. Rumors of impending revolt must have been everywhere. Neither Sarah nor I spoke any of the many languages, nor did we read Amharic, which left us to pantomime to communicate with the people and enjoy village life since we did not stay in the capital long. It proved to be a challenging trip in ways, lack of food, hitchhiking on lorries, riding buses that broke down, and a near-fatal encounter, which I included in the book with little amendment, but that's what makes roughing-it travel an adventure. I hope it makes for an exciting story for you to read, especially during our virus-induced era of travel restrictions.