Possible Conference

Currently debating if I want to write a proposal for this conference. I think I'd write about how travel writing explores the unexpected recognition of ones own "Americanness" though comparison an american gaze that occurs with a comparison to the "other"...hmmmmmm

http://call-for-papers.sas.upenn.edu/node/48529

Travel with Zora Neale Hurston

Still taking forever to post blogs, but here is my most recent article on taking a literature themed trip. This one is on taking a Zora Neale Hurston trip around Florida much like Alice Walker did. Enjoy!

http://www.examiner.com/article/taking-a-zora-neale-hurston-themed-trip?cid=db_articles

Travel narratives by women

Read my article for the examiner about books women might consider reading when everyone is telling them to stay home because travel is "unsafe" for women. I'm finishing up the Lost Girls this week (my reading schedule was derailed this week because of work) and I am also planning a piece on how to take a Hunger Games themed trip and a discovering Zora trip. See you soon!

Anne of Green Gables Travel

Hello blog world! Sorry I have been MIA, but I have been writing about travel themed trip and guides on examiner.com. There will be a blog post soon about the book the lost girls and "gutsy" women of travel, but in the mean time, I thought you might all enjoy my examiner article about taking an Anne of Green Gables themed trip. Take a look at the article [click on the word article to get to the website] and let me know what you think. I will also be doing one soon about taking a Zora Neale Hurston inspired trip so stay tuned!

Women of Color in Travel Films

Excellent question...

http://urbantravelgirl.com/2010/08/27/why-don%E2%80%99t-films-about-traveling-or-moving-abroad-ever-feature-black-women/

Go Girl Magazine

Want to read stories of women who travel? Check out this cool travel blog I found! http://www.travelgogirl.com/

From the "About Us"section of the blog:

"Go Girl Magazine (http://www.travelgogirl.com) is a fresh new take on the global perspective of adventurous, independent women. We officially launched on October 1, 2009. We first began as a travel blog to document the stories of women that travel independently. Not only is it difficult to travel alone in many countries as a woman, but it is nearly impossible in others. Social and cultural norms make a woman’s experience different wherever she goes and Go Girl wanted to document that. We advocated for the bus hoppers, the backpackers, the fruit cart-riders and the women who weren’t afraid to experience the world first-hand.Though our beginnings focused almost exclusively on travel, Go Girl has naturally blossomed into a community of globally engaged women. Some of us travel; others do not. Yet one thing still holds true- wherever we are in the world, our experiences and our perspectives as women are unique" -- Beth Santos

Enjoy! 

Moving Moms

"She [Buchi Emecheta] writes her novel in bits and pieces while her children are still asleep or not so quietly playing" - Alice Walker

Alice Walker’s essay “A Writer Because of, Not in Spite of, Her Children” from her collection In Search of Our Mothers' Gardens considers the relationship between children and women’s ability to write or work. She describes how she had trouble understanding Buchi Emecheta’s dedication in her novel Second Class Citizen: 

“To my dear children, Florence, Sylvester, Christy and Alice, without whose sweet background noises this book would not have been written” (67).

I admit that like Walker I have trouble understanding the idea that a child’s “noises” would facilitate the writing process. Children are often socially viewed as a heavy responsibility in which mother’s must sacrifice themselves and their dreams for their children, and by extension experience a loss of self. A women’s identity becomes “mother” and little else as all other identity markers become connected to motherhood (working mom, soccer mom, super mom, etc.). Despite having read Walker’s article years ago, I admit that I still had trouble viewing motherhood separate from terms of self-sacrifice. I didn’t really believe that mother’s could be mothers and still follow creative pursuits—let alone vigorously travel. That's changed though. For some time now I've been working almost exclusively with mothers in the mentoring program I manage. During our events, I've seen our their capacity to work while their children gurgle, fuss, play, and even scream. Just the other night at one of our evening events, after an entire day of working and coming home to a fussy child, this mother managed to still complete our creative writing project while simultaneously caring for her son. Not only did she complete the assignment, but also managed to engage her peers I detailed critical thought. It was an amalgamation of these thoughts, readings, and interactions that made me so thrilled when I saw a considerable amount of stories by women traveling abroad with their children.

In Laura Fokkena’s essay “Watching Them Grow Up” she discusses how having a child changed the way she traveled in Egypt: “Despite my marriage to Bassel, an Egyptian I’d met during my first trip, my status as a khawagayya (a foreigner) had always superseded any other claim I might make about my identity. This time, my American passport was secondary. My main role was that of wife, young mother, and grieving daughter-in-law” (121). The role of mother to an Egyptian child enriches Fokkena’s experience in Cairo. While she is still an outsider in many ways, having her daughter grants her privileges in a society that values her first as a mother. More importantly however, in traveling with her daughter the author is asked to re-imagine motherhood and the role children play in the lives of adults. At one point, Fokkena insists they should move into their own place since they are staying in Egypt for a while longer. Her husband resists, but she maintains that Rakaya is a burden on the older women of the family. What she comes to understand though is Egyptian views on children differ from her own American perspective: “Children keep you company. They’re not a burden. All of my husband’s female relatives were professionals, but work was secondary to their duties as daughter, mother, sister, wife. The same was true for men…” (128). The roles of women mesh together as opposed to compete against each other.

http://www.hipmama.com/

It’s essential to consider though that these roles can be fluidly integrated because parenting is the responsibility of the community and not just the father and the mother. Instead of a mother having the “double shift,” all the women and men share in the responsibility at various levels: “In Egypt, taking care of the baby was a shared endeavor. Auntie Zuzu encouraged me to use my newfound free time to study, and I did. Despite all the upheaval, I managed to finish two research projects…” (126). Traveling with her daughter becomes an experience of self-reflection, growth, and allows Fakkema to see the value of a community of women. In the end, her daughter doesn’t keep her from traveling or working, but in fact enables her to have a more complex and rich experience in Egypt.

In her essay “Conversation’s in Denmark,” Lesley-Ann Brown (like Fakkema) describes how traveling with her son enables her participation in a community of mothers. Brown starts by describing how the racial tensions in Denmark make her feel uncomfortable as an African American woman, but she connects to a group of women (some Denmark natives and other’s are not) whose discussions range from race relations in Denmark, parenting in America versus parenting in Denmark, universal healthcare, gender roles, and more. Brown suggests that had it not been for her son and the mothers, she would have had difficulty navigating Danish culture. Like Fokkena, she also describes how childcare is more of a community effort: “When I first arrived, she [friend] was always there to take me around the city, and when I was pregnant, she used to accompany me to the doctor when Benjamin was unable to. She even baby-sat Kai so that I could write” (256). Again, in this instance, having a child while traveling improves the experience as opposed to preventing her ability to travel.

Lesley-Ann Brown's Blog 

This is what I most enjoy about these essays—they provide an alternative view to the responsibilities of parenting from the normative conversations about motherhood. They help the reader view motherhood as a role that not only enhances ones life, but also encourages spaces of feminist discourse and collaborative communities of women. These women don’t travel despite their children, but with their children.

Flamenco, Feminism, and Fado: My Ultimate Opportunity

“There is so much about my fate that I cannot control, but other things do fall under the jurisdiction. I can decide how I spend my time, whom I interact with, whom I share my body and life and money and energy with. I can select what I can read and eat and study. I can choose how I'm going to regard unfortunate circumstances in my life-whether I will see them as curses or opportunities. I can choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. And most of all, I can choose my thoughts.” 

–Elizabeth Gilbert

During my first post I mentioned my current restlessness for travel. Well, that same feeling is what fuelled my desire to sign up for weeknight night Flamenco classes. I may currently be unable to control my in-itinerant status, but I can choose how I spend my time in the interim. I have been interested for some time, but it’s the first time I’ve been able to actually sign up. My relationship with flamenco currently ranges from excitement to momentous self-loathing to guilt for lack of practice, which inevitably leads to deeper self-loathing. It turns out I am deeply terrible thus far, but I think my abysmal learning pace is perfect as it forces me into a position discomfort I find essential for growth as I discussed in my previous post. I also need to learn patience…really I need to learn to be more patient with myself. I insist then on learning flamenco even if it means I take the beginners class multiple times (hopefully extra weekday practices with a friend will save me from too many beginners classes).

I know that the real problem is I have to practice more, so without an ounce of the romanticized impromptuness one imagines as part of the flamenco style, I have taken to writing down the steps (typical student mindset on my part) immediately after leaving class so I don’t forget how to practice the steps. This week the dance was as follows:

-       Instructor Sings: La la la la ley ley ley la…

o      Right foot stomp with right arm extended outward

o      Left foot stomp with left arm extended outward

o      Arms up while right foot goes over left foot for 360 turn

o      Four side hip swing stomps to the right ending with left toe tap

o      Four side hip swing stomps to the left ending with right toe tap

o      Four side hip swing stomps to the right (no toe)

o      Two slow hip sways while turning into a circle followed by four quick hip sways followed by two slow hip sways (having done a 360 turn to the front in the process)

o      Stomp left leg with right leg extended out while doing torso arm swing towards the left

o      Stomp right leg with left leg extended with torso arm swing towards the right

o      Arms extended and come down—right foot stomp followed by left foot stomp (have no idea if this part is right…so maybe this part will include some improvisation on my part)

o      Stomp right leg followed by left leg shoe shuffle to the right followed by right heel tap and left heel tap. While doing the foot work, right arm is extended above (supported from back—must do this correctly) and is brought down to meet the left leg as it comes up.

o      Stomp left leg followed by right leg shoe shuffle to the left followed by left heel tap and right heel tap. While doing the footwork, left arm is extended above and is brought down to meet the right leg as it comes up.

§       Note: These two moves are alternated as you go in a circular motion of 8 counts—hitting all 8 corners of the room.

o      Last step for now—end with right foot stomp followed by left foot moving across the floor in a semi circle and then two small foot taps (right then left)

Just reading my own post makes me want to break into a nervous sweat, but what I most enjoy about the class is how the instructor insists on empowering the way women view their bodies through flamenco dance. Each class she tells us her students not to be shy with flamenco. We have to be “divas” and “embrace our sexuality” as beautiful women. “Don’t be afraid to push your chest out—this is no time to be modest” or “don’t be afraid to be sexy women!” I’m not sure flamenco will cure my restlessness, but maybe it’s actually a feminist undertaking that will encourage me to have further awareness of the politics and location of my own body. 

I wonder what it would be like to learn something new abroad? I read Eat, Pray, Love last summer while traveling (much better than the movie by the way) and I remember having a learning purpose for each place seemed to help the author adjust in each location. In Italy she took Italian language classes, in India she learned techniques to develop her own spirituality, and in Bali she had sessions with the medicine man on attaining balance. Most importantly though her choices in what she learned involved some prep time while she was still residing in the states. Before going to Italy for the first part of her trip, Gilbert describes how she had learned some Italian before taking more advanced course in Italy. Maybe this is the ultimate positive way to view my flamenco class—this is just the first step to get me ready until I can take classes and learn advanced flamenco in Spain. In that case, next order of business is to find a Portuguese language class so I can spend some glorious months in Lisbon. Better yet, maybe I can learn how to play Fado…actually this may be a bit less realistic seeing as currently don’t know how to play a instrument…Portuguese it is!

Texts Used:

Gilbert, Elizabeth. Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia. New York: Penguin Audio, 2006. Print.

Travel and Location of Self

“The true artist will use her creativity to find a way, to carve the time, to claim the kitchen table, a library carrel, if a room of her own is not possible. She will use subterfuge if necessary, write poems in her recipe book, give up sleeping time or social time, and write.” –Judith Ortiz Cofer

Feminist scholars consistently discuss the politics of location. From Woolf’s observations on financial freedom (with the end goal being writing location), to Adrianne Rich’s musings on the construction of the body as location, to Cofer’s insistence that women create their own writing space—well more like demand it. It’s not that strange then to see connections between travel writing and feminism. I wonder how Virginia Woolf would have felt about women and travel writing? The women who tell these stories don’t exactly always have a room of their own—although they generally have a financial freedom that allows them to travel. But what does it mean for these women writers that travel is marked with constant disorientation, mishaps, and general instability? Can you still create excellent work under these circumstances?

Interesting enough several of the stories in the collection Expat: Women’s True Tales of Life Abroad focus on the lack of a familiarity and how to create a “room of one’s own” or “home” abroad in order to adapt and flourish. These stories discuss the quest for stability (or search for familiar location). The writing comes from that place of discomfort and not in the achievement of location stability.

Some of the most interesting stories to this effect are ones about the desire for everyday comforts. Kate Baldus’s story “First, the Blanket” explains her first week living in Bangladesh and her inability to navigate the city to buy a blanket so she could sleep through the unexpected 50 degree nights: “The stress of a new job, a new home, and life in a new country made me forget all my reasons for coming to Bangladesh in the first place. For a moment I wanted to run back to California, but I convinced myself that I would be okay if only I could get a blanket” (186). A co-worker finally takes her into the city to find a blanket to Baldus’s simultaneous joy and dismay. Stricken with fear at the unfamiliar rickshaw bicycles and assaulted by unfamiliar smells—Baldus remains tense the entire first ride, but always maintaining her focus on the blanket. In this case, it is seemingly her singular focus on this one element (the need of a blanket) that enables her to continue challenging herself to engage in situation that makes her uncomfortable—more importantly though it is her discomfort that inspires her to write.

In some instances the desire for comfort relates directly to a feeling of Americaness. In Adrienne Rich’s “Notes toward a Politics of Location” Rich discusses how her travels have forced an awareness of her American values and identity: “It was in reading poems by contemporary Cuban women that I began to experience the meaning of North America as a location…I traveled then to Nicaragua…under the hills of the Nicaragua-Honduras border, I could physically feel the weight of the United States of North America…” (233). While Rich is referring to the global politics of being American, the realization is similar to Emily Wise Miller’s desire for American popular culture in her story “Jean-Claude Van Damn That was a Good Movie.” Miller describes how in the US she was very picky about the films she watched, sometimes going “months without seeing anything” instead of dealing with “sugaric” films (81). However, when she moves to Italy she finds that the isolation of living in another country produces what she terms the “SLOB: a Sucka Living O’Broad” phenomenon (82). While her story if definitely humorous, it also touches on a need for familiar spaces in order to have the comfort needed for daily functions, such as writing. The travel also forces her to come to terms with her Americaness—a sense of longing that enables her to reexamine her identity and self-awareness: “Maybe it’s my instinct for survival, an innate willingness to adapt to new situations (I can dry my laundry on the line and dodge speeding scooters when I cross the street); for the time I live abroad, I am just happy to put my critical faculties on occasional pause for a dose of home on the big screen” (88). 

Maybe the real challenge for authors is being forced into situations of discomfort that act as catalysts for self-reflection. That profound writing comes from an amalgamation of rest and unrest. While I agree with Woolf that too many barriers stifle creative spirit, too few barriers prevent necessary moments of self-reflection that make possible the moments of “subterfuge” Cofer advocates.

This conflict of experiences reminds me a bit of my move from Florida to DC. When I traveled outside the US it made sense to me that I would feel like an outsider looking in, but the transient status of tourist meant that my “foreigner” standing failed to bother me. I did confront my Americaness, and while useful for my own self-reflection, it didn’t surprise me. What surprised me more was how much I felt like an outsider when moving to DC. I knew I would miss my loved ones and that I’d have difficulty adapting (I’ve never excelled at dealing with extreme change), but I was surprised at how “different” I suddenly felt. The differences between Florida and DC culture are both extreme and subtle. I felt the outsider status, but in my own country—who knew!

As much as I’m learning to enjoy parts of DC more and more, it has been difficult adjusting the change. While some fantastic new friends have made it easier, it is still odd to imagine that I am part of a Florida culture. Instead of coming face-to-face with my Americaness—I have had to negotiate my Floridianess. Everyday here I meet people who don’t know how to swim, who have never heard of Jimmy Buffet, who have never had to worry about water restrictions, who have never had a colada or tasted guava, who have never been to Disney World, who think it is inappropriate for women to wear shorts above knee length (COME ON PEOPLE! It is freaking hot outside!), who are not familiar with the delicate nature of Caribbean politics, who think that my wearing cowboy boots with my summer dress is “odd” spring behavior, and who have never eaten a fantastic Florida avocado instead of those ikkky small ones at the supermarket.

On the other end, everyday here leads me to new discoveries and experiences. From how to eat Maryland crabs (very VERY different from eating snow crabs considering it has parts that if you eat it could kill you) to how to drive a 15 passenger van on snowy streets in a city full of narrow streets and one way alley ways (identifying one way streets still seem to be a challenge for me). I may not be an expat in the traditional sense, but I do feel the disorientation of a complete shift in lifestyle—and I have the privileges of knowing the language and laws (which often the expats in these stories do not)! I can’t even imagine how these feeling of isolation are amplified by more extreme factors. All in all, I do experience the discomforts and newness that enable my continual self-reflection and push me into a novel understanding of where I am in this world. Maybe this is why travel narratives have been so perfect for me as of late. I don’t know what this means for my writing yet, but for now this is the kitchen table I’ve claimed to explore the possibilities.  

Texts Used for this Post:

De, Tessan Christina Henry. Expat: Women's True Tales of Life Abroad. New York, NY: Seal, 2002. Print.

Gilbert, Sandra M., and Susan Gubar. Feminist Literary Theory and Criticism: A Norton Reader. New York: W.W. Norton, 2007. Print.

Kallet, Marilyn, and Judith Ortiz Cofer. Sleeping with One Eye Open: Women Writers and the Art of Survival. Athens: University of Georgia, 1999. Print.

I have been binging on women’s travel narratives and with each story am just blown away by the women who write them. I was lucky enough to happen upon one collection and then sought others out with rabid hunger. Why? Because I have an unprecedented and insatiable desire to travel, but I am currently locked in place for of a variety of reasons. I am living a feminist “dream” life. I moved to Washington, DC recently because my partner was accepted to a top program here. I work with women at a local non-profit and I am involved in various activist projects, but I can’t seem to shake my restlessness.

So this blog may have a two-fold purpose—first taking a look at women’s travel narratives and second unpacking my own restlessness that fueled this project. I am amazed by the stories of these women who managed to travel alone when everyone said it was too “dangerous” or better yet became expats. I hope to explore women’s stories of travel from a feminist perspective and in the process possibly explore a bit of myself.