One for the Road: Unrooted Childhoods

by Kelly Amabile on

This book has been out for several years, but I noticed that one of the editors, Nina Sichel, recently did an event about the book in Alexandria, VA. It sounds like a fascinating collection of stories, some written by well-known travel writers, so it seemed like a good one to share here:

Unrooted Childhoods: Memoirs of Growing Up Global is an anthology of personal essays about the experiences of those who grew up without ever feeling grounded in one place. Authors such as Isabelle Allende, Pico Iyer, Tara Bahrampour, Pat Conroy and Sara Taber share tales from their lives as traveling children. As sons and daughters of diplomats, missionaries, educators and military personal, their lives were influenced by the varied locations and cultures that shaped their childhoods.

Nina is teaching a series of memoir writing workshops beginning later this month. Born in the U.S. and raised in Venezuela, she is a writer, former editor and ESL teacher. Her work has appeared in The American Journal of Nursing, Among Worlds, International Educator, and elsewhere.

Summer Jaunt: Girl Scout Founder’s Birthplace

by Jamie Rhein on

Lately, I’ve been asking folks where they are going for the summer. One of my friends and her daughter are heading to Savannah, Georgia with the daughter’s Girl Scout troop. I was about her daughter’s age when my Girl Scout troop did the same thing. I still have my Daisy pin to prove it. You can only get one of these if you go to Juliette Gordon Low’s birthplace. Visiting the place where Juliette Low, the founder of the Girl Scouts, was born is a trip worth taking whether you are a Girl Scout, were a Girl Scout, know a Girl Scout or ever bought Girl Scout cookies.

The home where she grew up is a restored, 19th century house filled with family belongings. Besides having the distinction of being linked to the Girl Scouts, this was the first house in Savanah to open as a house museum. It’s also part of the Pioneers in Preservation tour. There are two others. Andrew Low House was the family home of Juliette Low’s husband and one of the places she lived as an adult. The other house, the Davenport House Museum was to be destroyed until rescued by a group of women keen on preserving Savanah’s history. These aren’t the only historic places, the city if filled with them. Here is a link to other Savannah attractions.

Learn About Cultures’ Cultural Guides

by Willy Volk on

Learn About Cultures produces downloadable books that detail the important cultural “dos and don’ts” you should be aware of before embarking on an international trip. Designed with both the business and leisure traveler in mind, the books — covering 16 of the world’s “most popular” travel destinations — are filled with information ranging from business dress to dining etiquette, from negotiation strategies to gift-giving protocols.

If you’re interested, you can see a sample of the China guide (PDF). Each Culture Guide-To-Go is only $19.95; order three or more at a time, and get a 10% discount.

They also produces a few broader “global guides to etiquette,” which cover entire continents. Interestingly, these books, sold through Amazon, are nearly half the price of the click-n-print PDF versions available for download.

A Canadian in Beijing: Floating at Bloody Sunday

by Ember Swift on

Bloody Sunday worried me when I first heard about it. I thought it might be a hardcore women’s event that discussed menstruation and girl power, which to be honest is not for me. I mean, I’ve ‘been there, done that’ and it’s no longer my speed. No offence to all the blood sisters out there who are currently reclaiming their bodies, self-worth and sisterhood; it’s wonderful to experience this kind of transition and learning, especially about patriarchy and empowerment. For me, time passed and now I look back on that time in my life, raise my fist in solidarity and realize I’ve moved on. No crime in that. Part of that very movement is thanks to the empowerment, so credit given where credit is due.

Now, along a different empowerment path, this monthly event is about connecting the arts community here in Beijing. A woman named Pauline organizes the night along with several friends and volunteers. She works full-time in the gallery district of Beijing and is interested in combining arts media together to form alternative gathering spaces in this city. Pauline is from Belgium and she has lived here for many years and so she is very connected to the ex-pat community. We met through my friend Sarah (who I told you about in this blog.)

Anyway, Pauline asked me if I wanted to take part in May’s “Bloody Sunday” event and I agreed to play some songs. This month, it took place in the beautiful Ritan Park ??????????? at the Stone Boat Café, a small restaurant set on the water across a small bridge. It was built about twenty years ago to replicate the traditional structures often built into the water as permanent boat-shaped entertainment spots. (I spoke about a famous one of these structures when I visited the Summer Palace.) Ritan Park itself was built in the year 1530 and is one of the oldest parks in the city. I was told that it once served as an altar site where the emperor made sacrificial offerings to the sun god. By the time I learned that, it was too dark to go exploring. Maybe next time.

I arrived in the early evening to do a sound check and, of course, nothing was ready. I had brought my Chinese textbooks, however, and I was thrilled to sit on the restaurant’s patio working on my reading comprehension while the sound system was slowly assembled on the outdoor platform that would double as the evening stage. I sat right next to the water’s edge and intermittently lifted my head to peer over the railing at the families fishing or laughing as they sat on the rocks around the small lake. I even watched one man successfully pull in a large fish. I have no idea what kind of fish it was but I did notice that he took it home with him, smiling proudly. All in all, everyone here seemed peaceful and the energy was infectious. I felt my muscles relax when I hadn’t even realized I’d been tense.

I sipped tea, translated a text, eventually had some dinner at a very leisurely pace and then it was time for me to plug in my guitar and test the levels. Everything worked out fine and I sat back down again and chatted with the strangers that had taken up residence at my table. It was more of a communal table, really, since there were perhaps eight possible seats (an estimate considering two sides were benches built into the stone boat’s “deck”) and so several people came and went, almost wholly non-Chinese but from various countries. English was our common language.

Some other individuals arrived from the organizing committee and began to pull a large sheet between two trees on the shore. These were the people in charge of programming visuals for the night. As the sun slipped out of the sky, their images lit up the area and gathered a crowd of Chinese migrant workers and Sunday park-goers who gathered on the rocks and watched the silent film clips for several hours as though hypnotized. They were hypnotic, I must admit, and coupled with the music that was spinning by several dj’s including NARA (whose mixes were exquisite), they became hard to ignore.

When it came time for my set, a few of my school friends suddenly appeared to support me and I was grateful. The small area that I was facing was otherwise filled with strangers, so seeing some familiar faces was a treat. Behind me just a few paces was the water and this platform had no railing. I’m sure it was beautiful to see from the perspective of the audience, but I had visions of falling backwards with a splash and electrocution. . . and so I mostly stuck to the microphone and didn’t look behind me!

My voice carried to the tables and chairs on the shore as well, but the performance was really directed at this small area on the restaurant’s patio. The visuals continued throughout my set as well and I occasionally found my eyes pulled to watch while I sang as though I were simultaneously in two different roles: performer and audience. I had to consciously pull myself back and focus on what I was doing because the images were so compelling!

When my set was finished, (and it was very casual and consisted of both English and Chinese – quick spontaneous translations on my part – considering the very mixed audience), I walked around the site more and discovered a brilliant display of items for “exchange.” This was a pile of items that anyone could take, like a free garage sale. People were sorting through the clothing and sifting through smaller items and I’m not sure if much was taken and given a new home, but I love the concept. There was no expectation to actually “exchange” item for item, but the idea of giving away things to others is always positive, both for the person who is minimizing their possessions and for the person who is happy to acquire something new. In this way, it’s a “win-win” exchange, so aptly named.

The best feature of this restaurant was its upstairs room that truly resembled an enclosed upper deck and/or sleeping cabin in a mid-sized leisure craft. Climbing the super steep stairs was also interesting (treacherous?!) and when I got to the top, I found a young man sitting cross-legged on a couch directly facing the stairs who was offering tarot card readings. I asked how much he charged and he told me (with a French accent) that it was 100 kuai. I answered him in French that I’d be happy to have a reading if he’d take a barter of one CD. He smiled and agreed. I sat down to a fairly accurate description of my current life by a complete stranger. I do love a good fortune and this one was fairly encouraging.

I slipped him a CD later on in the evening by ascending the stairs enough to show my head above the landing and then extending a CD through the railings. I leaned it against the chair within my reach. He was in the process of giving someone else a reading and he smiled at me quietly and nodded. Another exchange.

I left the Bloody Sunday event feeling relaxed and smooth, as though the whole event had been a giant reefer for my spirit. I don’t smoke, but this kind of event felt the way I have heard friends describe that feeling; I sort of floated away into the dark night air of the park. I fell asleep soundly that night and dreamt colourful dreams filled with water and travel and painted rafters.

I felt fortunate.

Mis-Guides: Guidebooks of the Future?

by Willy Volk on

What happens when a group of artists produce a guide book? You get something that looks a lot like a Mis-Guide. Rather than telling you where to go and what to see, a Mis-Guide gives you the tools to see a city or environment in a whole new way.

Each Mis-Guide suggests a series of walks and points of observation and contemplation. Unlike an ordinary guide book, it is guided by “the practice of mytho-geography, which places the fictional, fanciful, fragile and personal on equal terms with ‘factual’, municipal history.” Huh?

If you’re thinking a bit literally right now, some of the tips found in the books include:

  • Start at your door and take pictures of 26 objects, one for each letter of the alphabet.
  • Borrow a dog from a friend and let it take you for a walk.
  • Walk along a river with a friend but do it from opposite sides, while maintaining contact (through sight, sound, flares, etc.) the entire time.
  • Still confused? Check out some sample pages from either the Courtauld or the Exeter Mis-Guide.

Okay, so it’s all a bit esoteric, but the point is that there are numerous ways to shake a person out of the same-old hum-drum way of seeing a city. You don’t HAVE to hit all the sites or sample all the recommended dishes. You can have a very meaningful experience exploring quiet streets in a new and exciting way.

Are these the guidebooks of the future? I hope so.