Authors: Suzanne Fisher Staples
I refuse to cry out, and Dadi in his fury is like Tipu, bloodlust in his eyes. He can beat me to death if he likes. The pain grows worse as the blows strike already-bruised flesh. But I take Sharma’s advice. I recall the beautiful things in my world and, like a bride admiring her dowry, I take them out, one by one, then fold them away again, deep into my heart.
I hear sobbing, as if from a great distance, and my knees crumple. Dadi catches me in his arms and buries his face against my bloody tunic. He holds me against him, and through a haze of pain, I realize it is Dadi sobbing, not me.
“The secret is keeping your innermost beauty, the secrets of your soul, locked in your heart,” Sharma’s voice whispers in my ear, “so that he must always reach out to you for it.”
Rahim
-sahib
will reach out to me for the rest of his life and never unlock the secrets of my heart.
Allah (
Ah
-luh)—God in Arabic, the language of the Islamic religion.
Allah-o-Akbar (
Ah-
luh
oh Ahk-
bahr)—“God is great!”
Asalaam-o-Aleikum (Uh-suh
-lahm
oh Uh-
leh
-koom)—Traditional greeting.
betel (
beet-
uhl)—A nut with red juice and narcotic properties.
bhai (
bhii)
—Brother.
Bugti (
Buhg-
tee)—A tribe living in eastern Iran, southwestern Pakistan, and southern Afghanistan.
chadr (
chad-
duhr)—A cloth worn by women as a head cover.
chapati (chah-
pah
-tee)—A flat, round bread made of whole wheat and water and cooked in a flat pan over an open fire.
Eid (
Eed)
—An Islamic festival that ends a period of fasting.
ghazal (
ghuh-
zuhl)—A poem sung to drum and flute music.
Guluband (Goo-loo-buhnd)—The family’s finest camel.
hookah (
hoohk
-uh)—A tall pipe with a small brass bowl in which tobacco and raw sugar are burned. The smoke is drawn through water held in the pipe base into a long, flexible mouthpiece.
hunteray
(huhnt-
uhr-eh)—“Giddyap!” to a camel.
Islam (
Ihs
-lahm)—A monotheistic religion of the Middle East, Africa, and Asia.
jelabi (juh-
leh
-bee)—A pretzel-shaped, deep-fried sweet.
jelabi-wallah (juh-
leh
-bee
wah-
luh)—
Jelabi-
maker.
kabob (kuh
-bahb)
—Cubes of meat roasted on a stick over a fire.
kafi
(kah-
fee)—A religious poem set to music.
Kalu (
Kah
-loo)—A young camel in the herd. His name means “black.”
kharin (
khuh-
reen)—A green desert plant with edible sweet red flowers.
khip (
kihp)
—A brushy desert plant used to thatch roofs.
Koran (Kuh
-rahn
)—The holy book of Islam, written in the Arabic language.
krait (
kreht)
—A deadly snake.
lungi (
luhn-
gee)—A long piece of cloth usually worn wrapped around the waist.
mahendi (muh-
hehn-
dee)—Part of the marriage ceremony in which women have their hands and feet painted in intricate designs with henna.
Marri (
Muh
-ree)—A tribe of Baluchistan.
maulvi (
mohl
-vee)—An Islamic priest.
mehrab (muh
-rahb)
—Walls built to show Muslims in which direction they should bow to face Mecca for prayer.
Mithoo (Meet-
hoo
)—A baby camel whose name means “sweet.”
mujahideen (muh
-jah-
hih
-deen)
—Muslim fighters engaged in battle with a non-Muslim enemy.
Muslim (
Muh-
slihm)—A person who follows the religion of Islam.
nawab (
nuh-
wahb)—A Muslim king of one of nearly 700 princely states that once formed part of what is now India and Pakistan.
paan (
pahn)
—A delicacy made of leaves and nuts of the betel plant plus other ingredients, such as fennel seed, sugar, and other spices.
pashmina (puhsh-
mee
-nah)—A fine wool used to make soft shawls.
Pathan (Puh
-tahn)
—A nation of tribal people who live mainly in Afghanistan and Pakistan’s North-West Frontier Province.
pogh (
pohg)
—A thorny desert plant that camels like to eat.
Rajput (
Rahj-
puht)—A race of Hindu desert warriors in India.
Ramadan (
Rah-
muh
-dahn
)—The month of daytime fasting in the Islamic religion.
rupee (
roo
-pee)—The money of India and Pakistan. A Pakistani rupee is worth about six cents in United States money.
sahib (
suh-
hihb)—A respectful title.
salaam (suh
-lahm)
—A greeting.
shatoosh (
shah-
toosh)—A shawl made of wool so fine it can pass through a lady’s ring.
shenai (shuh-
nii
)—An oboelike musical instrument.
Sher Dil (
Shurh
Dihl)—A puppy whose name means “lion heart.”
sito (
see-
too)—A desert plant with a sweet, succulent root used as a source of water in a drought.
subadar (
suhb-
dahr)—Officer’s rank in the Desert Rangers.
syed (
sii
-yiht)—An Islamic religious leader who traces his lineage back to the prophet Mohammed.
Tipu (
Tih-
poo)—A young male camel named for an eighteenth-century explorer.
toba (
toh
-buh)—A freshwater pond that serves as a water supply for desert nomads.
Xhush Dil (
Hoosh
Dihl)—A camel whose name means “happy heart.”
Q: When did you know you wanted to become a writer?
A:
I have always wanted to write—from the time I was a toddler, walking around with pencil and paper, asking adults to teach me to write my name, or the names of flowers, or things around the house. I was different from other family members, and I felt like an outsider. Writing was a way to express myself. And in stories I found ways of looking at the world that helped me make my own sense of it.
Q: What inspired you to write
Shabanu?
Was there a
specific person who inspired Shabanu’s character?
A:
I worked on a literacy project for women in a rural village in Pakistan’s Punjab province, and during my time there met many women who were eager to tell me stories about their lives. I found myself seeing that our experiences were very similar. Despite the profound differences in our cultures, we shared hopes, dreams, a sense of humor, a sense of romance. It made me want to further explore the universality of human experience.
I met a girl named Mariyam in one of the villages of Cholistan. She was an orphan being raised by her grandmother. Because it was just Mariyam and her grandmother, they were very independent and more than a little eccentric—rather like Auntie Sharma and Fatima are in the story. I started to think about what ramifications there would be for a woman who was so different in such a rigidly traditional society. I loved Mariyam’s resourcefulness and courage and strength and worried about what it would cost her.
Q: How did you start writing
Shabanu?
What parts of
the story came together first?
A:
Virtually every scene in both
Shabanu
and
Haveli
is based on a story someone told me about herself, or a relative, or someone she knew. I also relied on things I witnessed myself, like the Sibi Mela; the wrestling matches, both human and camel; the Channan Pir shrine; Derawar Fort; the Desert Rangers. I also watched stories unfolding in the families of my friends in Pakistan. I wrote down scenes based on these reallife stories and then began to connect them. I actually began telling the story from Grandfather’s point of view. I liked the idea that he was old and got confused, mixing up the present and the past. In the Cholistan Desert you often feel as if you’ve somehow gotten caught in a time centuries past—perhaps in the time of the Old Testament. Very early on I heard this strong little voice in the back of my mind. That became the voice of Shabanu, who took over narrating the story.
Q: How did you conduct your research for the book?
A:
A lot of times I would see things as I traveled and did not understand their significance. So I would go to the library at the University of the Punjab in Lahore and look up old documents about the Abbasids, or the National Institute of Folk and Traditional Heritage Institute in Rawalpindi to look for documentation of history, and for the origins of myths and legends. I also interviewed many people who were from Cholistan and knew the nomads, the shrines, the poetry and traditions.
Q: What were some of your most interesting experiences
while living in Pakistan?
A:
I was constantly surprised by the rural peoples of Pakistan, most of whom were extraordinarily poor. They were living on the very edge of survival—yet they were extremely generous, hospitable, and dignified. They always offered me a meal or bread and tea—whatever they had. They were always welcoming and kind. Living and working among them made me grow and taught me the value of an open mind and heart. There were some terrible times—times of drought when their animals were dying and they were forced to leave the desert—but they were always courageous and hospitable.
Q: What books do you like to read? Who are your
favorite authors?
A:
I love to read in connection with what I’m doing. I’ve just been to China, and so I devoured a variety of fiction and nonfiction about China: Nien Cheng’s
Life and Death in Shanghai
, Ha Jin’s
Waiting
and
The Crazed
, Eleanor McCallie Cooper’s
Grace: An American Woman’s Forty Years in China
, May-lee Chai and Winberg Chai’s
The Girl from Purple Mountain
, Anchee Min’s
Red Azalea
.
My current passion is archaeoastronomy—legends and myths about the stars, sciences and mathematics, in Persia in particular.
My favorite authors are Gabriel Garcia Márquez and Virginia Euwer Wolff, Wendell Berry and Billy Collins and Naomi Shihab Nye. There isn’t enough room to name all of the authors I love!
Q: If you could have dinner with anyone in the world
,
who would you choose, and why?
A:
My husband, Wayne, because I don’t see nearly enough of him. Or my brother or my sister or my nieces and my nephew—I love my family and spent years living away from them. I’d love to spend more time with them now.
Q: When did you realize you wanted to be a fiction
writer?
A:
When I was a news reporter, I knew I wanted to be writing fiction. Stories had always played an important part in my life, and I was more interested in the kinds of information they provide about human behavior than news stories do.
Q: What do you consider the most rewarding part of
writing books for young people?
A:
I love being a part of the community of publishers, writers, teachers, librarians, booksellers, and readers. I also marvel at the magic in the process of bringing a story to life—all of the chaos and possibilities that refine themselves into a story that feels real and true. There seems something beyond human intelligence at work in it, and it always moves me. (It also drives me crazy a good part of the time!)
Q: Do you ever use suggestions from readers in new
books?
A:
Not really, although that isn’t intentional. A lot of readers complain that my stories don’t end the way they’d like to see them end. They feel as if they’re just left hanging, with no more pages to read! But open endings are the only ones that satisfy me, and I don’t know how to do it differently.
On the other hand, readers say they’d like another story about the characters I’ve left suspended at the end of a novel. I can’t do that unless I have another good story idea, but perhaps those comments keep my mind open to ideas for another novel about characters I’ve written about before.
Q: What advice do you have for young writers?
A:
I think it’s very important to honor your ideas and your dreams. When I was younger, my family worried because I was a daydreamer and an idealist, and because I wanted to be a writer. I didn’t know how to want to be something else. And I’m very happy to have ended up doing what I do. Your dreams can’t come true if you don’t have dreams. My parents also were right, however: It’s important to be practical and to learn to do things that are perhaps less fun to do. But those dreams are essential.
And ideas: If you don’t respect your ideas, make note of them, and keep your mind open to them, they’ll float right past you, like fish in the ocean. So I think journaling is important—being in the habit of making notes about what moves you, what impresses you, how things feel to you. If you don’t respect your ideas, nobody else will. Keeping a journal gives weight and substance to your thoughts and ideas.