Last year I trekked into the Moroccan Sahara desert on a very trusty camel named Aszu. In the evening, my guide, Jusef, a sixth grade educated Berber nomad, surprisingly fluent in six languages, fixed me a tantalizing chicken tangine. All that it lacked was a glass of wine, unfortunately verboten for Muslims just days before Ramadan. At night we slept under the incredible desert night skies. Never before had I seen so many stars, stretching from one horizon to the other – the stars so bright and numerous, it was difficult to make out the constellations. That was Morocco, a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds, smells, and experiences. From Morocco I traveled on through much of Europe, Russia, Mongolia, China, and finally concluding my trip in Japan. This year's trip will take me to Romania, Ukraine, Georgia, Central Asia, India, Nepal, Southwest China, and Indochina. At times I hope to report back on my experiences and observations, perhaps posting a few pictures and videos that may be of interest. I've posted below a few pictures and videos from some past trips. For my blog on my travels through East Europe check out my blog at http://tallinntovarna.blogspot.com.

I’ve been asking myself lately, is there a theme to all this? Maybe not, but one thing I can say that piques my interest, is the dangerous nexus between religion and politics that engulfs the world today. In Morocco, where the King is both the head of Mosque and State, a Muslim, during Ramadan, can end up in jail for doing nothing more than drinking a glass of water under the scorching daytime heat – his crime, the thirsty Muslim broke the fast. Imams in Morocco claim that such an abhorrent act defies the teachings of God, infringes on the religious liberties of practicing Muslims, and is deserving of serious sanction. Of course, such a violation of an individual’s personal freedom could never happen in America. Or could it? As I write this, the U.S. Catholic Bishops are ferociously attacking President Obama’s Affordable Care Act for requiring institutions to provide birth control under their insurance policies. Like the Imams, the Bishops consider it not just an affront, but an existential threat, to their religious liberties. A poor woman, without the means to support a family, let alone a brutally raped woman, should not expect any sympathy from these Catholic institutions, as they, like their Muslim brothers, are scripturally bound to impose their beliefs on others. Does it matter that no one is telling Muslims that they cannot fast or Catholics that they cannot abstain from sex?

Now that I think of it, I’d like to dedicate this blog to Americans United, a terrific nonpartisan educational organization dedicated to preserving the principle of church-state separation as the only way to ensure religious freedom. Before I move on though, I’d like to share with you this political satire piece I wrote a few months ago when Senator Rick Santorum had a chance of being the Republican nominee. It pretty much sums up my take on what a large segment of the American population would like to see should their wildest dreams come true. Finally, I begin this blog with three postings from last year’s trip just to give you an idea of who I am and what you may or may not come to expect as I embark on this year's trip. If you have something nice to say, I'd love to hear from you.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

On Writing


Pattaya Beach
Mr. Turtle engages in a conversation with one of the local rats you see scampering up and down the palm trees on the beach in Pattaya. “What I really want to be is a writer,” the rat moans to Mr. Turtle. “So, what’s stopping you?” “I don’t have enough experience. I’m only twenty.” “That’s no excuse. I’m ninety and I don’t think my experience counts for squat, but I write anyway.” The rat looks down at the piece of chewing gum in his paw and sadly says, “Nobody will read what I write,” “Does that really matter?” Mr. Turtle sternly replies. “Write for yourself. If you’re writing for others, you will never get started.” “But where will I get the material?” “Hey, look around, observe and listen — your narrative will unfold in front of you. Look at that banyan tree over there, describe it in a sentence and see what happens.” “But I spend my days climbing up and down these darn palm trees and at night don’t have the energy or creativity to do anything else.” “Oh my, take it in small chunks then. Somerset Maugham, you know that British author, wrote just 300 words a day and look at what he accomplished. Anyway, One sentence, well written, is better than reams of bullshit.” “That’s exactly what I’m afraid I’ll end up with, bullshit.” “That’s okay too. You may discover some sweet kernel of truth in all that bullshit. Find it and throw the rest out.” The imagery seems to work. The rat responds, “This truth of yours, it almost sounds like something I can eat.” “It is, almost. For me, it’s the sweet essence of writing.” “And how do you do get at it?” “Write honestly for one thing. Don’t hold back. Don’t be afraid of offending. On a practical level, I want every paragraph to bear a kernel of truth. That’s my objective anyway. Sometimes, I admit, I get hung up on the details or facts of my encounters. They’re important, of course, but I don’t want them to get in the way of the truth.” “Interesting, but I’m not sure it’s something that will work for me. You see, I’d like to write a novel.” “Maybe you’re right, my friend, your challenge then is to come up with a story line, real or imaginary, but once you’ve done that, the rest of what I’ve said still applies. You’re left with peeling away at the truth of that story line. You should remember though, the old saw you’ve probably heard, ‘Don’t tell, show,’ is the best way to get at the truth because following that advice you’re more likely to tap into the power of your readers’ imagination and if you can do that, you’re really onto something.” “Okay, thank you so much Mr. Turtle. I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind, but now I need to get back up this tree. It’s lunch time.”
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