WISHBONE

Folbre recounts a whirlwind overseas trip in the early 1980s that opened her eyes to unique places, diverse cultures, and economic inequities in this travelogue.

The story, told through old journal entries, opens in Texas in 1983. Though the author was married to an attorney, Banks, and working as a teacher in a suburban Alamo Heights, she felt something was missing. So, she and Banks quit their jobs, converted their savings into traveler’s checks, and embarked on an 18-month adventure. Starting in Nepal, the couple hiked through the arduous Annapurnas. After Folbre fell ill, a Tibetan grandmother diagnosed her with a “one-night curse” and “cure[d]” her with hot coals, prayer, tea, and a stomach massage. They visited Buddhist places of worship and witnessed a woman’s body being cremated. On Trick Street in Kathmandu, the couple was offered cocaine. In India, they braved a long camel trek. During a stop in Bikaner, an English-speaking local invited them to stay in his home, where his wife and children transformed the author into a “Brahman goddess” for a portrait. Folbre and Banks visited the holy city of Pushkar, where the author suffered a dog bite that required medical treatment. The couple traveled through China by boat, bus, train, bike, and donkey, and met an international cast of fellow travelers. For the final leg of their trip, they traversed Mongolia, Moscow, and Berlin. Upon their return to Texas in 1984, Folbre studied English literature and had two children with Banks. At the book’s end, the author observes that this type of impromptu travel would be less feasible today—now, she says, “I’m afraid to travel carefree in the time of Trump.”

Folbre immerses readers in her travels through rich sensory details, like how “Camels sifted through flat sands in a bedroom slipper shuffle.” She effectively relays how traveling changed her, writing, “I was in a desert yet lacked nothing. I felt at home with a people I had never seen before and a language I had never heard.” The unromanticized account includes physical and psychological discomfort, from frozen feet in the mountains to the ways in which children heckled the foreign couple. (The author does not spare the reader heartbreaking details; she notes how children were coerced to cut their limbs off to increase their earnings as beggars.) Folbre’s photographs, paintings, and sketches enhance the narrative’s intimacy and ambiance. However, the book includes some problematic scenes in which privilege and ignorance are on display: After a soldier vulnerably described his traumatic war experience, Folbre asked if his knife was for sale, then haggled over the price. Some cultural observations seem judgmental and dismissive, such as, “Although Hans had an enriched, ancient cultural history, they seemed to live a nonchallenging, drab existence.” The book’s tone is occasionally woo-woo in lines like, “Over time I’ve gained the capacity for thinking beyond polarities and tapping into full, embodied knowing.” The journal format sometimes results in dull itinerary descriptions like, “We were pleased by a crystal-clear view of Annapurna II and Annapurna III as we followed the Sagarmatha (Everest) National Park map.” Substantial space is dedicated to meals the couple consumed, while the author’s divorce from Banks barely merits a mention.

A rich memoir about cross-cultural connection that sometimes lacks self-awareness.