Many years ago, I journeyed overland from Greece to Nepal. On my trip, I traveled from Damascus, Syria, to Baghdad, Iraq, riding in a van through the desert. Just before sunset my traveling companion and I came upon a tea tent in the middle of nowhere. There, an old man and his great-grandson served tea to the few travelers who passed their way. The man and the boy invited us to share their dinner and camp near their tent. I’ll never forget their kindness, nor the brilliant sunset over the desert—nor the cold starry night that followed. It has been a joy to return to these memories while writing Season of the Sandstorms, and I hope I can revisit the country of Iraq someday.