What is travel literature by Shelley Hopkins

What is travel literature?

I was in a real estate seminar recently, in which the motivational speaker liked to have audience participation.  He would ask the audience questions and expect us to raise our hands for our choices.  He was doing this, without calling on anyone, just asking, for example, who would like to have a million dollars or a huge 8 bedroom house, and then wait and look to see who would raise their hands.  I don’t enjoy these kinds of seminars, but I was there for my husband.  The speaker asked, “who here would say that real estate is your passion?” and most of the listeners raised their hands.  Then he asked, “Who would say that something else is your passion?” I, and a few others raised our hands, and this man called on me to tell what my passion was.  I wasn’t expecting this and I stammered, “um, well, travel, hiking and um, books, I guess.” 

“Where do you want to travel, be specific?”

“Umm, maybe Latin American countries, I would love to tour across South America.”  How could I pick just one place, so quickly and in front of all these strangers who were here to learn about their business, not my travel plans?

“OK, and books, what do you like to read?” He asked.

“Travel literature,” I answered.  He paused, looked at me strangely and said, “Well, I suppose that makes sense.”  The idea of travel literature seemed to confuse and bore him, but luckily he moved on to other people and topics.

I thought about his reaction, and realized he probably thought that by travel literature I was saying I enjoyed reading guidebooks.  He was imagining me sitting in my chair curled up with a guidebook of France, or of Costa Rica.  Guide books are useful in planning a trip, I can see the names of restaurants, relative cost, location and hours that they are open, but this is not exciting reading.  Pouring over the lists of museums found in San Jose can be useful, but this is not the kind of riveting reading I was thinking of.  Travel Literature is the stories and adventures and relationships made during a persons travel.  These stories are usually fact, but can have some fiction woven in to the narrative.  Sometimes they are pure fiction, but give off the sense of moving through a space, growing and experiencing new cultures. 

Travel Literature can include geography and cultures, but it also includes philosophy, religion, and experiences through the eyes of the traveler and also through the various people he meets.  When John Steinbach traveled around the United States in the 1950’s he was recording a section of our history that cannot be understood easily by those of us that were not there.  He met Canadian migrant workers in the northeast, and he witnessed the hatred of angry parents against school integration in New Orleans. 

I have read many books about people walking or biking across our country, and the one fact that sticks out is how friendly and helpful people were in each of the states crossed.  We learn about true experiences that help to shape our view of our own countrymen.  When the adventures take place in more exotic locales, we see the vast differences in cultures that can explain why misunderstandings can take place, but we also see how generally we are all the same, with similar problems and desires.  Readers can feel a giant connectedness with people of all countries and cultures, something that transcends politics and governments.  Travel literature opens our eyes to the problems of others, to people we might not see or understand otherwise.

One of the draws of travel literature to me is the enjoyment of following the writer, not so much as he or she moves through a geography but more how this person changes and grows with his experiences.  Just moving through life with your eyes open is a type of travel, and all our experiences shape and help to define us.  We grow through difficult times, we learn from pleasant experiences, and we develop relationships as we pass through life.  Travel is just an intense and exciting version of this, and just as we never escape life unscathed, we also grow and change from travel.  I am not talking about guidebooks, nor am I talking about preplanned cruises and shopping expeditions, but true travel where the adventurer lives and participates, experiences and suffers at times, only to return home and share those experiences with us.  This makes for exciting reading.

Congee by Shelley Hopkins

Congee, or an Asian comfort food

Last week I made Congee, a meal that I had never even heard of until I saw the recipe for the first time.  Usually when I try a new recipe I have at least some idea of what the final product should be, but this time I was embarking on a true food adventure.  I read a post and saw a picture, and immediately pulled out the saucepan.  The recipe called for 2 cups of rice to 18 cups of water.  I had no pots that would hold that much water, so I split it between the only large pot I have and my crock-pot.  The idea of congee seems to be that you cook the rice until it is nearly disintegrated.  It is considered a perfect meal for the sick, or women who just gave birth.  It seems to have been created for times of famine, or when a small amount of food has to be spread out among many people.

When the rice water had cooked for the correct amount of time, I had two rice gruels, enough food for an entire basketball team.  My husband was out of town and I only needed to feed my teenage daughter and I.  To the first pot of rice gruel I added cooked chicken and kale.  To the second pot I added cinnamon sugar and some milk.  I preferred the chicken version and my daughter loved the cinnamon sugar version.  We ate that one for breakfast, and my chicken kale version for supper.  These two meals were so good, but the next time I try to fix this I plan on waiting until I have a house full of people.

I have been enjoying collecting recipes, and one thing that interests me is that almost every culture has different takes on similar food styles.  In Costa Rica I discovered empañadas, in West Virginia I ate pepperoni rolls.  In Montana pasties are the meat bread mixture.  In the Orient people eat meat dumplings, and then in the south we love chicken potpie.  These meals are very different, yet the general idea is bread and meat and sometimes veggies in one serving. 

Rice pudding, rice gruel, congee, arroz con leche, these are some of the many versions of the same idea.  Can you think of other examples?  I think it would be interesting to put together a cookbook of international recipes that showcase different versions of the same thing.  Maybe someday I will do this, if it has not already been done.

Anyway, here is the congee recipe borrowed from a favorite blog, http://www.eatingfromthegroundup.com

 Adapted from Eating from the ground up

2 cups rice, basmati or jasmine

1 can coconut milk

18 cups water

5 tsp salt

2 Tbs cornstarch

Combine the rice, water, and coconut milk in a very large pot. Bring to a boil, lower the heat, cover, and simmer for 1-½ hours, stirring every so often.  When the mixture thickens add 4 tsp of the salt.

If you are making the chicken version cut up a chicken breast into thin slices or small chunks.  Mix the rest of the salt and the cornstarch and mix with the chicken.  Add the chicken to the rice and cook until the chicken is done.  (When I made this, I had already cooked chicken).  Add greens and stir until warm and the greens are soft.  (I used Kale, but you could also use spinach). Top with whatever you like. 

If you are making the cinnamon version, I added cinnamon sugar, (7 parts sugar to 1 part cinnamon) and milk to the rice, and served this for breakfast.

Life as Vacation by Shelley Hopkins

 Life as Vacation

The snow kept falling, the wind was blowing, but the views were stunning.  Black tree trunks contrasted with the stark white snow, the shadows outlining the rolls and billows on the snow banks.  I was alone on the trail, watching carefully as I walked, placing my feet along the packed snow, following a cross-country ski trail that someone else had made.  I knew some of the sections of the trail had cold wet water under the snow.  Soon the wind abated, the snow stopped falling and patches of blue sky appeared.  I had to squint to protect my eyes from the blinding glare of sunlight reflecting off the fallen snow.  The trail turned to the right, past a stand of trees, and a blue lake appeared, a bright blue surrounded by white and the dark green of the cedar trees.  I stopped to munch on my snacks and drink water.

 Walking in the deep snow was tiring.   It was much harder work than following the same trail in the spring or summer but the views were stunning and worth the effort.  I had become hot with the work, but now that I wasn’t moving the air was cold and I had to button my coat again.  After a break I continued the walk for an hour, then returned slowly to my car.  Was I on an exotic winter vacation?  Not really.  That morning I had woken early, fixed a quick breakfast for the sleeping family and me, walked the dog and then driven an hour north and to a higher elevation to find a winter walk.  Coopers Rock State Forest was our family’s favorite local summer hiking spot, and I thought it would be beautiful in the snow.  Only the first section of the park was open for cars, and we only had one parking area.  Local cross country skiers loved to use these trails, and I saw their tracks, but on this beautiful day I only met one person as I was getting in the car to return to my home.  That afternoon I was back in our normal daily life.

I have yet to be able to travel as I wish, exploring the many other countries and cultures that can be found on our planet, but that hasn’t stopped me from living an adventurous life.  Every place has something interesting, something beautiful.  All our states have history, state parks,  and adventures in waiting.  Someday I will get to rent houses in Argentina, villas in France, and hopefully haciendas in Spain, but for now I love to explore the local landscapes. 

Adventure can be just around the corner, such as the day that my husband and I decided to go for a walk in our West Virginia neighborhood.  We followed the road that goes past our house to the main street of our tiny town, crossed the creek on our covered bridge, and followed the small road up the mountain that borders our town.  At the top of this hill is the local cemetery, and here among the graves you can look over our neighborhood, our houses and the school.  On the other side of town tall green mountains reach up, and above that is blue sky.  Back on the road we explored, not sure what we would find.  Walking beyond the cemetery we passed old homes with pastures for backyards, the very pastures we could see looking up from our backyard.  Elevation changes are extreme, and it was interesting to see the clearings and the cows that looked down at our house.  We walked on, and the small country road wound around hills and looked over the creek we had crossed earlier.  After a time there were fewer houses, we were walking along fields and woods.  As we fell in elevation I looked up to see that our blue sky was being covered in storm clouds.  The air temperature dropped, and we could smell rain.  There was nowhere to go, so we just continued, and quickly we were engulfed in a serious rainstorm.  The rain was so heavy that we could barely see the trees.  Kevin and I ran to stand under a large leafy tree, but the shelter was only imaginary.  In just a few minutes the rain stopped, the sky cleared and steam began rising from the road as the sun returned.  Everything was green and fresh, and we laughed at the fun of it. 

These are the daily adventures that I imagine would make a vacation in another country interesting, but I am having them wherever I live. We love the idea of a Stay-cation, as some people have called it.  Imagine that your city or town is in an exotic location.  Imagine that you have the opportunity to visit this town for only a couple of weeks, to get to know the landscape, the activities and the walks.  What would you do, and where would you go?  We have lived in 4 different states, and maybe that mobile lifestyle has made this type of stay-cation an enjoyable pastime.  Right now I am enjoying walking, exploring and eating in my new town in SC, but I have had the same experiences in small NC towns, in the metro Atlanta area, and in West Virginia. 

The last year we lived in West Virginia I knew we were leaving, so I rushed to explore new places.  Last spring we picnicked at Black Water Falls, and walked around Pittsburg.  I biked on rail trails along the Mon river, and tried new restaurants.  Many people never go out and explore their area, and I think some of the reasons include being too busy with work or activities, as well as thinking that there will always be next year.  Nothing happens without being planned for, without making the conscience decision to find the time.  During the last year we were in WV I had started graduate school and was teaching classes as a teaching assistant.  My husband had already moved south so in a way I was a single parent.  Life is busy and it is important to keep priorities straight, my God, church, family and work responsibilities still came first, yet knowing that we would be leaving gave me a great encouragement to find time to get out and explore.

My favorite relaxation was just to walk my neighborhood, and that was easy to do after supper and before studying or grading exams and papers.  I always work better after a brisk walk, it clears my mind and relaxes my body.  Simply enjoying the pretty views was like a mini vacation, and I usually returned to the house ready to work.  Sometimes between classes I would have a 2-3 hour break, time that was used to study and grade or prepare.  At least once a week I would use that time to escape my office, leave the University grounds and get to know the areas around the college town. I would walk among the shops, or cross a bridge into the neighborhoods. 

 We tried local restaurants, avoiding the chains for the mom and pop places.  My daughter’s favorite restaurant was on a side street, a small place easily missed, and run by a Japanese family that had settled in the area.  The food was authentic, the waitress wrote our order in Japanese on her pad, and we were served with chopsticks.  The TV was always on, tuned in to Japanese programming.  The front window had a porcelain cat looking out at the passersby, and on one wall was a bookshelf filled with Manga, all written in Japanese.  On the counter was a Daruma doll, a traditional doll that represents a person’s goals. This doll has large eyes, and is round so that when you knock it down it stands back up, symbolizing that nothing can knock you, the owner of the doll, down.  One eye is usually colored in when you make a goal, and the other is colored in when the goal is achieved.  This doll only had one eye colored. The customers spoke Japanese, eating here was a small vacation from our daily West Virginia life. 

Until I can live in and explore local Peruvian neighborhoods, or spend a month exploring the Scottish countryside, I hope to always have my stay-cations at home.  I suppose it is a matter of attitude, understanding that life is an adventure.  As Bilbo Baggins says in The Lord of the Rings, just going out your front door can be dangerous; you never know where the road will take you.

“The Road goes ever on and on


Down from the door where it began.


Now far ahead the Road has gone,


And I must follow, if I can,


Pursuing it with eager feet,


Until it joins some larger way


Where many paths and errands meet.


And whither then? I cannot say”