folklore – Writing Between the Lines

Magic Carpet Ride

In Turkey, everywhere we turned there were carpets…

…dressing up every room in the house.

Indoors…

…and outdoors.

Sometimes in the most unexpected places.

There are special prayer rugs in the mosques.

Even Turkish camels use them.

Cats love them too.

They really really love them.

And so do I.

They are important to the tourist trade.

I was willing to do my part to boost the economy.

But how to choose?

So many variables. Size, color, intricate patterns…

We knew we should research the market, measure the space, photograph the rug, walls, and furniture we wanted our purchase to match. But we didn’t.

The wine helped. Hospitality is customary in Turkey, but it doesn’t hurt to soften up potential buyers. We didn’t care: we knew from the start we would walk out with a new carpet.

Relying on instinct, we pared it down to two rugs. Then Metin explained the symbolism, and the deal was sealed. The tulip border on our favorite was a common Turkish motif, symbolizing the Garden of Eden.

Tulips recall Turkey’s rich history and culture, from the ‘tulip mania’ that brought “the Konya flowers” from Turkey to the West, to the many doors of understanding and appreciation opened on this shared journey.

One border design depicts water…

…for freedom and triumph over difficulties, because water follows its own path around, below or above any obstacle.

It also symbolizes fertility.

Red is for vibrance, passion, happiness. The ‘S’ border is for the first letter in the Turkish word for love.

The oleander flower, strong and drought resistant, stands for protection. It can be poisonous but is used to treat cancer, epilepsy, heart conditions, and more. Thousands of years ago Roman soldiers took it to cure hangovers.

Could our Turkish carpet brother be reading us so well that he could tell us exactly the story we want to hear? Love, passion, protection, and satisfaction guaranteed? Absolutely!

We weren’t worried about cutting the best deal or finding the best bargain: that was the happy ending to someone else’s adventure. It was the love story that stood out for us, the one we felt invested in, the one we happily bought into.

And the rug was a perfect fit–although not where we’d intended to put it, but–surprise!–we found an even better place for it, and we love our carpet more than we hoped or imagined.

We choose our own stories, just as we choose a carpet or a mate.

A little glass of wine can help. Don’t worry about the ticket price, go by instinct, and carry it home. Not every day can be a magic carpet ride, but these things hold their value, and a good one will last a lifetime.

Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Photo Challenge: Intricate.

The Most Noble Story

There was once a widow who had three sons, Alberto, Eduardo, and Ernesto. She had spent a lifetime trying to teach them the meaning of charity and compassion.

The day came when she knew she was dying, and would no longer be there to guide them. She called her sons to her bedside.

“My sons, the only thing of value I have to leave you is my diamond ring. It was given to me by my mother, who had it from her mother, whose mother handed it down to her. It cannot be divided and it must not be sold, for one day, it shall go to one of your daughters. Now I must decide which of you is most worthy of this treasure. Go, my sons, and do good in the world. Come back in one week’s time and tell me your stories. The one who has performed the most noble deed shall inherit the diamond.”

By the time the three young men gathered again at her bedside, their poor mother was near death.

She said to her firstborn, “Alberto, tell me your story.” “Well, Mother,” said the eldest, “after much thought, I gave half of everything I owned to the poor.” “My son,” said the old woman, “no one can tell you that you haven’t performed a good deed. But it is not a noble deed, for have I not taught you that it is everyone’s responsibility to care for the needy?” She said to her secondborn son, “Eduardo, tell me your story.” He said, “Mama, I was passing the river when I saw a small child swept away in the current. I can hardly swim, but I jumped into the water and pulled the child out to safety. It was only by the grace of God that I didn’t drown myself.” “My son, you too have performed a good deed, but not a noble deed. Have I not taught you that everyone should be willing to lay down his life for that of a helpless child?” The old woman said to her youngest son, “Eduardo, come tell me your story.” Ernesto hesitated before taking her hand. “Mamacita,” he confessed, “I haven’t much to tell. As you know, I’ve no earthly goods, and I cannot swim a stroke. But I’ll tell you something that happened to me this week. Very early one morning I was walking in the mountains. I came upon a man sleeping at the edge of a cliff. If he were to stir in his sleep, he would surely fall to his death on the rocks below. I determined to prevent this tragedy. I crept over, so as not to startle him awake. Then I saw that it was my bitter enemy, Juan Miguel. At first, I thought to leave him there, for the last time we met, Juan Miguel threatened to kill me if he ever got the chance. But I knew what I had to do. As I put my arms around him, Juan awoke and I could see the fear in his eyes as he recognized me. “’Don’t be afraid,’ I told him. I quickly rolled him away from the precipice to safety, and helped him to his feet. When Juan Miguel came toward me, I was sure he meant to kill me. But then he threw open his arms to embrace me. Juan said, ‘Last night darkness fell before I could get home. Rather than chance a misstep in the dark, I decided to spend the night where I was. I had no idea I was so close to the cliff edge. You saved my life, Ernesto, and after I treated you so poorly!’ To make a long story short, Mamacita, Juan and I are no longer enemies, but have sworn to be friends forever.” The old woman shed tears of joy. “My son, I have taught you well. That was truly a noble deed, and you are a noble man, for you risked your life to save a man sworn to kill you. With one act of kindness, you have transformed hatred into love and made the world a better place.” With her dying breath she told her sons, “The diamond shall go to Ernesto, but you must all remember that with each noble deed you perform, you shall add to the treasure that awaits you in Heaven.”

All three sons married and had children of their own. They, like their mother, taught their children the meaning of charity and compassion. When the time came, Ernesto left his mother’s diamond to one of his daughters. But Alberto and Eduardo left their children a gem worth as much as any diamond, for their children held in their hearts their grandmother’s precious legacy, the story of the most noble story.

Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Travel Theme: Enlightenment.

Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Photo Challenge: Forces of Nature.

NAOMI BALTUCK is a world-traveler and an award-winning writer, photographer, and story-teller whose works of fiction and nonfiction are available through Amazon HERE . She is also a Contributing Editor and Resident Storyteller at The Bardo Group.

The Real Thing

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Last weekend my sister and I happened into Langley, an artsy little town on Whidbey Island. Tourists scurried about like cockroaches at a crumbfest, only in broad daylight. A cheesy salesman draped with gold chains leaned over the counter of a jewelry store, talking too loudly.

“A bit over the top,” I thought. And then, “This guy can’t be for real.”

Well, he wasn’t. He turned out to be a suspect in an organized murder mystery, with town folk playing the suspects and tourists racing around town in search of clues, for which privilege they paid a lot of money.

I prefer self-directed treasure hunts, only I call it ‘research.’ I’ve always loved travel, but it was in England, searching for the perfect setting for The Keeper of the Crystal Spring, that I truly felt the thrill of the hunt. Research lent a sense of purpose as I absorbed all I could of the Norman Conquest and life in Anglo-Saxon times. At the Weald and Downland Museum, I learned the mechanics of charcoal burning, and which stone originated where throughout England, details I put to good use. At a Dorset heritage breed farm I learned how shepherds were buried clutching a tuft of wool, so when they got to Heaven St. Peter would understand and forgive their long absences from church. Of course our shepherd was buried with a tuft of wool in his hand!

My family has accompanied me to many destinations chosen for research purposes, others for pure pleasure. But what do ancient streets of Pompeii, a grassy square in Prague, a dusty trail in Walnut Canyon, AZ, and the Hanseatic Old Town of Bergen, Norway hold in common?

As my kids and I took in the smells, colors, and unique histories of those places, each inspired group brainstorming that resulted in a rough outline of a novel. Some were merely exercises in creativity, a fun way to internalize information. Others were keepers, and took their place in our Writer’s Egg Chain, where they will gestate until we are ready to return to Prague in search of more hidden story gems to lend light, color, meaning, and authenticity to our embryonic novel.

But your search needn’t involve expensive travel. In fact, I just finished a manuscript and am ready to crack open the next egg on the chain. It’s set in the funky Fremont neighborhood of Seattle, only minutes away. Bea, co-author on this project, and I will explore Fremont’s streets, shops, dives, parks, events and hotspots—like the Fremont Troll, the nude Solstice Parade, and Theo’s chocolate factory. I am sure that some of them will find a place and help breathe life into our story.

We won’t sign up in advance or pay to participate, and there’ll be no checklist of items to collect. This treasure hunt will be of our own invention. We aren’t even quite sure what we are looking for, but we’ll recognize it when we see it. And when we do, I promise it will be the real thing.

Are there things you look for when you are doing your research? Have you had an experience researching a project that you would like to share?

See what Bea’s blog post says about research and “Writing what you know.”