Ramadan in Dhofar: Iftar Photos and Essays

Here are a series of posts with photos and descriptions of iftar (the meal eaten to break one’s fast at sunset during Ramadan) in Dhofar.

Iftar in Dhofar – Typical Food Choices

Foodways: Thoughts on Iftars, Food and Cultures

Foodways: Iftars in Ramadan

Images of Food during Ramadan – Iftar Humor and Iftar in Beautiful Places

Ramadan Kareem رمضان كريم (greetings with Vimto)

Ramadan and Foodways – Images of food in connection to greetings and good behavior, Vimto and selling food

Ramadan Notes from ‘Researching and Working on the Arabian Peninsula’

I meant to publish this several days ago, but recent events have overtaken the usual quiet, home-based focus of Ramadan on the Arabian Peninsula. I know that many expats are currently trying to leave but I want to put this up as a reminder that, whatever else is happening, it is still Ramadan.

the section on how to behave respectfully during Ramadan from ‘Researching and Working on the Arabian Peninsula’ (2025)

Ask questions about Islam, but frame those questions respectfully. During Ramadan, one male student at the Arabic school where I studied ridiculed a female, Muslim student who was fasting, “She said she was fasting but then I saw her drinking water – she’s a liar!” The woman had her period, so she couldn’t fast but there was no way a woman would tell that to a new, male acquaintance. She was acting appropriately; women act in public as if they are fasting but eat/drink out of sight, then ‘make up’ those days at some point before the advent of the next Ramadan.

Before you leave, look up when Ramadan will fall; Freya Stark (1940) famously made the mistake of not checking before her difficult trip with Gertrude Caton-Thomas. Unless you are Muslim, male, and specifically doing research related to Ramadan/Islam, doing research during Ramadan will probably be difficult. Muslims will be concentrating on prayers and family. You might be invited for iftars (the meal to break the day’s fast) but there probably won’t be time/opportunity to have private conversations/ask questions.

In addition, it’s a good idea to pay more attention to your appearance and behavior. Ramadan is not just about fasting from food from sunrise to sunset; Muslims should also refrain from anything that pulls them away from spiritual reflection, for example being angry, lying, cheating, or listening to non-religious music. You should live in a way that allows everyone else to also concentrate on spiritual matters.

There might be specific laws in your location, but in general I suggest trying to blend in with your surroundings, be it a university, archive, or business. This often means dressing more modestly than usual, e.g., switching from short-sleeved to long-sleeved shirts with rolled up cuffs if you want, tea-length instead of knee-length skirts, less or no jewelry, make-up perfume, etc. Before the month starts, ask if there are changes people often make.

If you are not fasting, keep food and drink out of sight. Don’t leave your bottle of water clipped to the outside of a backpack, put it inside. Various people don’t fast for various reasons (such as being pregnant or ill), so it’s understood and accepted that people are going to eat, just do it behind a closed door or in a hidden corner. Some businesses will set aside a room for non-Muslim to eat meals in or employees will informally co-opt a room, so ask around. If you are in a new space or are the only person not-fasting, try stairwells. Usually there is an empty area at the top of the last flight of stairs.

Behavior in Ramadan relates to two concepts I will discuss further in the sections about tribes and clothes in Chapter 5. First, many cultures on the Arabian Peninsula are tribe-based, meaning it is expected that you will try to fit in to prevailing mores in the same way that people fit into tribal expectations. During the day in Ramadan I cover my hair and the most frequent comment I hear is, “Good, you are with the people.” The fact that I am attempting to blend is seen as positive; yet at the same time there is no expectation that I will adopt every behavior of a Muslim women.

During Ramadan I drink coffee, eat, and play music in my office but my door is always closed. When someone knocks, I drape my scarf over my head, cover my coffee cup with a Kleenex, turn off the music, then call out “Come in.” Everyone knows I am hiding my coffee while they wait outside my door, but in 19 years, no one has complained because I am making an effort to respect the rules and that is sufficient.

The second concept is that people who alter what they wear, what they say, how they act can be viewed with suspicion. Hence, decide if you are going to change anything and what you are going to change, then stick with it throughout the whole month. Dressing modestly one day and not modestly the next is often viewed as worse than dressing non-conservatively because the person is viewed as playing with/making fun of cultural norms. Several years ago, when I decided to wear a head-scarf during daylight hours in Ramadan, I knew that was an irrevocable decision and I have stuck with it. Ramadan creates a framework for my changes and gives a clear explanation of why I am behaving differently.

My last point is that modifying your clothing and behavior (not playing music during the day where people can hear it, not showing anger, not reacting to anger, etc.) helps you navigate smoothly. Yes, sometimes it’s hot to wear a headscarf and sometimes it’s awkward to get it correctly arranged. I hate walking out of the house without lipstick and perfume. On the other hand, these adjustments mean a month without women shooting me angry glances, men acting as if I don’t exist (cutting in front of me in line), clerks pretending that they don’t see me and government officials refusing to help me. When I tell a male student to stop yelling in the hallways, he is not going to backtalk me.

Sometimes other expats show frustration with me and ask “Why are you making your life difficult?” I see my actions in terms of helping to create a peaceful atmosphere. I know it’s silly that I carry my coffee cup at my side or behind my back when I walk to rinse it out in a sink. I know the sight of my coffee cup will not ruin someone’s day, but why should I flaunt the fact that I am drinking? It doesn’t hurt me to be discreet.

A beautiful poem for the beginning of Ramadan

Images of Food during Ramadan – Iftar Humor and Iftar in Beautiful Places

Ramadan Kareem

Ramadan Kareem

Team Thesiger: ‘Arabian Sands’, ‘The Worst Journey in the World’, ‘The Snow Leopard’ and ‘Into Thin Air’

In Arabian Sands (1959) Thesiger recounts his travels on the Arabian Peninsula between 1945 and 1950, including two crossings of the Empty Quarter. In 1997 taught sections from the book in a non-fiction writing class at American University of Sharjah. I did so again when I lived in Salalah and also presented a lecture at the university where I worked: “Thesiger and the Persistence of Cultural Memory: How Arabian Sands Can Help Improve Teaching in Oman.”

Thinking about how the lifeways Thesiger describes are still extant in Dhofar, I then wrote an essay about his book: “Verstehen/ Einfühlen in Arabian Sands: Wilfred Thesiger as Traveler and Anthropologist” (2013).

Hence, I have been on team Thesiger for 30 years. The only travel book I would put as an equal is Apsley Cherry-Garrard’s magnificent The Worst Journey in the World (1922) about the South Pole Terra Nova expedition (1910–1913) led by Robert Scott.

So when my bookclub choose to read Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster (1997) by Jon Krakauer I was the only person not enamored of that book. After reading of Oates’ self-sacrifice and Cherry-Garrard’s warning:

There is no chance of a ‘cushy’ wound: if you break your leg on the Beardmore you must consider the most expedient way of committing suicide, both for your own sake and that of your companions.

It is jarring to read Krakauer describe himself and other stepping over dying people. It is also jarring that he published the book the year after the disaster. I can understand Krakauer wanting to explain his version of the events, but there was no time for reflection

Then we read The Abominable Snowman (1955) by Ralph Izzard, one of those travel books by men who had their own WWII experiences (or someone else’s) in front of them and went to foreign countries as a way to continue (or start) to test themselves. Blind White Fish in Persia Hardcover (1953) by Anthony Smith is a classic of that genre.

Our next book was The Snow Leopard (1980) by Peter Matthiessen. I have read several positive reviews of it, but I was afraid it would be too much of an internal-focused travel book. Like Thesiger (and Cherry-Garrard) there was a space of more than seven years between when he traveled and the publication, but the result is an emphasis on reflection: 1 page of walking to 3 pages of thinking.

The reflections about Buddhism, with digressions to explain the history of the religion, are interesting, but the personal reflections are unsettling. He and George Schaller are both clear that they are glad to be away from civilization, but they are traveling with 14 porters and 4 guides, porters who are carrying all the supplies so the two western men have only “rucksacks.”

Then there is a brief mention of Matthiessen’s wife death, followed a few pages later by a copy of letter from his youngest son and a description of his leave-taking from this boy, leading me to wonder why he was walking around the Himalayas when his son was grieving.

Thesiger and Cherry-Garrard had it easy, no sentimental attachments to pull their thinking back to home. Cherry-Garrard was also working in one of the few landscapes on earth that had no people who he was displacing, nor was he asking (or forcing) anyone to work for him. Thesiger paid the men he walked with, but he also lived by their standards, wearing their clothes, speaking their language and eating what they ate. If they starved, he starved.

Matthiessen has interesting information about Buddhism but after so many comments about how his porters were “childish” and eating the wrong time of day, I started to hope that he would not see a snow leopard. It was petty of me but the whiplash between his mediations and omening with the mountains vs. his scolding the men he was traveling with was jarring. And his creating a mystic “otherness” about one of the men was creepy: his smile meant this and his was thinking that and we are somehow connected and he is my teacher… about a man Matthiessen can’t communicate with but the letters from about his son go unread so as not to spoil the precious mountain atmosphere.

It’s a good book, I can see why it is acclaimed, but I ended my essay “Verstehen/ Einfühlen in Arabian Sands” with:

Thesiger is one of the few writers about southern Oman who has managed to manifest an appreciation of and respect for the local population, as well as convey their beliefs and habits accurately.

Twelve years on, after reading dozens more travel books, I would change that to say

Thesiger is one of very few travel writers who respects and appreciates the local population, as well as conveying their beliefs and habits accurately.

Below is a section from my Thesiger essay and as a side note, books about the Himalayas follow the familiar arc of travel books in English:

1) the Western “first” books

  • High Adventure: The True Story of the First Ascent of Everest, Edmund Hillary, 1955
  • The Crystal Horizon: Everest-The First Solo Ascent, Reinhold Messner, 1989
  • Seven Years in Tibet, Heinrich Harrer, 1952/ 1954

2) place as setting for the creating a persona after WWII

  • The Abominable Snowman, Ralph Izzard, 1955 (adventurer)
  • A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush, Eric Newby, 1958 (humor)

3) place as setting for personal growth/ discovery

  • The Snow Leopard, Peter Matthiessen, 1980 (traveled 1973)
  • To a Mountain in Tibet: A Haunting and Intimate Memoir of Pilgrimage, Loss, and the Journey to Mount Kailas, Colin Thubron, 2011
  • A Glimpse of Eternal Snows: A Family’s Journey of Love and Loss in Nepal, Jane Wilson-Howarth, 2012

4) women

  • Annapurna: A Woman’s Place, Arlene Blum, 1980 (traveled 1978)

5) disaster, place as setting of personal survival

  • Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mt. Everest Disaster, Jon Krakauer, 1997
  • The Climb: Tragic Ambitions on Everest, Anatoli Boukreev and G. Weston DeWalt, 1999

5) fiction, place as background

  • Thin Air, Michelle Paver, 2016, set in 1935; her Dark Matter (2010, set in the Arctic in 1937 is also excellent)
  • The Snow Line, Tessa McWatt, 2021
  • With or Without You, Carole Matthews, 2005

6) the locals speak

  • Beyond Everest: One Sherpa’s Summit and Hope for Nepal, Corinne Richardson and Pem Dorjee Sherpa, 2024

section from “Verstehen/ Einfühlen in Arabian Sands: Wilfred Thesiger as Traveler and Anthropologist” in  Journeys: The International Journal of Travel & Travel Writing (2013)

Tabook, as a member to the community he describes, can be expected to demonstrate Verstehen and Einfühlen; it is harder to understand how Thesiger, as an outsider, also managed to display both understanding and empathy. Thesiger also had an ability to reflect on the why he traveled and what the possible effect of his travels would be. Before the first crossing of the Empty Quarter, an old man comes to his encampment “to see the Christian” (82). His eyes are “bleary” and Thesiger’s companions mock him, but he

wondered fancifully if he had seen more clearly than they did, had sensed the threat which my presence implied–the approaching disintegration of his society and the destruction of his beliefs. Here especially it seemed that the evil that comes with sudden change would far outweigh the good. While I was with the Arabs I wished only to live as they lived and, now that I have left them, I would gladly think that nothing in their lives was altered by my coming. Regretfully, however, I realize that the maps I made helped others, with more material aims, to visit and corrupt a people whose sprit once lit the desert like a flame. (82)

It is clear that Thesiger’s most important attribute is his appreciation of and attempts to comprehend the people he was traveling with. “Above all however his life there is [sic] a measure of the love that he bears to the people among whom he traveled, without which he never would have been able to do what he has done” (Rennell 1948: 21). In his obituary, Maitland (2004) quotes Thesiger as saying “Ever since then [serving in the Sudan Political Service] it has been people that have mattered to me, rather than places” (93). In the Guardian Weekly’s obituary, Asher (2003) writes that “Few other explorers in the last century have tried so genuinely to see the world through the eyes of foreign people” (22).

That Thesiger thought the local people were the essential part of a journey is clear from his (1951) obituary for Bertram Thomas. Thesiger praises Thomas by highlighting the people, not the place: “the measure of his achievement is that he won the confidence of these proud and difficult tribesmen, and with no authority behind him, persuaded them by patience and fair dealing to take him across the Empty Quarter” (199). Of his own travels, he says “My achievement was to win their [his tribal companions’] confidence” (Glancey 2002).

But beyond the personal connection and mutual respect, i.e. Einfühlen, his books are also praised as “invaluable as anthropology” (Woodward 2007). It is his Verstehen, the ability to explain the different cultural features he encountered in a way that makes sense to readers, few of whom have ever been to this part of the world, which makes his book both a classic and valuable. Of course, the main caveat often mentioned is that he has no information on women or settled habitations, but if one takes the book strictly within the terms of ‘male Bedu traveling through the mountains surrounding Salalah, Yemen and in the desert’ Thesiger illuminates life on an almost epic-scale including food, clothing, religion, sickness, death, war, animals, plants, weather, and the importance of family and tribe connections. As someone who has lived in Salalah for seven years, what is most impressive is that after fifty-three years, Thesiger’s book is still an accurate guide to the culture I see every day.

A good anthropologist explains not just the surface appearance of the culture, but the bedrock structure which changes slowly if at all. Southern Omanis I know from my academic life, friends and the men in my research group are fluent in modern technology; they have university degrees, work in the mechanical and computer engineering fields, and travel widely. Yet, time and again, an example of Thesiger’s Verstehen presents itself when I am with them.

When greeting people, the news is always “good” and one has to ask several times, or simply wait awhile, to learn what is actually going on (102). His description of how to eat (86) is a letter-perfect description of how many Dhofaris eat dinner. It is still true that “Bedu have no desire for variety in their meals” (113). While camping it is often mentioned that someone should not relieve himself under a tree (where someone might sit for shade) or on a path (62). I have heard people swear on the divorce oath (169).

Often, when driving with the men in my research group, they will point towards a road or animal that is “right there, so close” that I cannot see and I think of Thesiger not seeing camels or oryx (164, 233). Several times while driving through a wadi at night, a colleague would say to me “go that way.” When I informed him that I couldn’t see his hand to know which way he was pointing, I was answered in lines similar to Thesiger’s companions who told him that “you would have sat there, without seeing them until they came to cut your throat” (233).

Even the remarks I found hard to believe or disliked have come true. At one point, Thesiger asks the Rashid men about crossing the Empty Quarter and Mohammed answers, “We are your men. We will go where you go. It is for you to decide” (219). When I first read this, it seemed a fantastic, wildly romantic over-statement. Then one day I asked the men in my research group where they wanted to drive to on the weekend, and one said, straight-faced and without irony, “You decide and we follow you.” Another time, in trying to decide where to go, one informant said to me, “I am a box,” i.e. a package to be picked up and carried. These were older, married, educated Gibali men and they certainly didn’t mean that I had any control of their lives, but in the specific point of traveling on a certain day – they were happy to leave the choice of destination up to me.

I thought also Thesiger was too tetchy about progress: “I resented modern inventions; they made the road too easy” (278). Then I went camping with a group of Westerners. As usual, I pulled out a sleeping pad, pillow, blanket, knapsack with clothes, small bag of food and a small cooler and set up in about ten minutes. One of the man took over an hour to erect a mini-Waldorf-Astoria complete with three mats, dining table, chairs, food prep table, stove, two mattresses, sheets, blanket and bed cover. When he pulled out a small box full of condiments, three kinds of ketchup, three kinds of mustard, brown sauce, soy sauce, etc., I had to stifle a groan.

Interconnectedness

To take an extended example of the depth of Thesiger’s understanding of the men he traveled with I would like to explore the concept of interconnectedness. Thomas (1932) understands the “corporate consciousness on the part of the tribesmen by which the acts done by or to any member of his tribe are virtually acts done by or to himself, with all the consequences that involves” (67). But the reality is that the interlocked/ interdependent tribal system goes farther than ‘acts’ to include, for example, possessions. Nanda and Warms (2002) explain that “The idea of scarcity is a fundamental assumption of Western microeconomic theory. Economists assume that human wants are unlimited but the means of achieving them are not” (170). This is not the underlying assumption among Bedu and Gibalis. The actuality of scarcity is not perceived as long as someone in one’s social circle has X object. If a brother/ cousin/ close friend has X, then access to X is assumed.

This can be a little heart-stopping from a Western point of view. I once offered a flashlight to a man in my research group and he took it saying, “I know that everything you have is mine.” The male and female informants I worked with would relate waking up to find that their sisters/ brothers or visiting cousins has “borrowed” shoes and/ or clothes. Cash flew from hand to hand; whoever had it was duty-bound to share with those who needed it, even sums as large as several thousand dollars. Cars could be borrowed for weeks or months. The only two items I found that did need to be returned quickly were a khanjar (traditional dagger) and guns which were borrowed to attend wedding parties.

Again and again, Thesiger explains this point from the simple, “no one ever smoked without sharing his pipe with the others” to “Bedu will never take advantage over a companion by feeding while he was absent” (60, 65). He writes “I have never heard a man grumble that he has received less than his share” (86) and how his companions praised a man who had ruined himself by excessive generosity (71).

What is refreshing about Thesiger is he makes it clear that this cultural necessity was grating: “In my more bitter moments I thought that Bedu life was one long round of cadging and being cadged from” (64). Twice Thesiger complains about bin Kabina giving away his clothes because someone has asked for them (137, 315). It is possible, therefore, to see both how the culture is organized and Thesiger’s reaction to that organization.

When, at the end of the book, Thesiger describes the men he traveled with as men “who possessed, in so much greater measure than I, generosity and courage, endurance, patience, and light-hearted gallantry,” it is clear this is not meaningless praise or hyperbole (329). He saw, recorded and reacted to their generosity. The Bedu insistence on sharing comes through as one of the key components of the culture but this is not described in a simplistic, formulaic cliché.

Thesiger shows the unrelenting requests he was subjected to and the inability of the Bedu to refuse a request even if they did not want to agree. He shows himself as the one who gives and the one who takes advantage of the laws of hospitality, i.e. Verstehen and Einfühlen. During his first crossing, he accepts milk from camel herders in the desert: “I drank again, knowing even as I did so that they would go hungry and thirsty that night, for they had nothing else, no other food and no water” (136).

Thesiger from the Omani Point of View

Although most academics would agree with the need to describe the culture with respect, there is a debate within the field about the necessity of communicating the locals’ point of view by using terms that make sense to both the reader and the people described. Thesiger was clearly on the side of living and describing events from the local point of view:  “whoever lives with the Bedu must accept Bedu conventions, and conform to Bedu standards” (52). His method agrees with Geertz’s as explained by Abu-Lughod (1989) “[Geertz’s] ethnography consists in interpreting people’s actions in terms of the interpretations with which they themselves work” (272).

Agreeing with him are, for example, Michrina and Richards (1996) who write in their standard anthropology textbook, “it becomes the anthropologist’s task to give sense to the reader of what it feels like for a native live in his or her culture” (130). Further, Marcus and Cushman (1982) assert that it is imperative that the “ethnographer’s conceptual and descriptive language make (common) sense to his readers within their own cultural framework, but it must communicate meanings to these same readers which they are persuaded would make (again, common) sense to the ethnographer’s subjects” (46). The simplest way to check if this “common sense” has been applied is to give the finished work to members of the culture and ask them to comment.

In the interest of gathering this insight, I asked a group of informants (working with me on a different project) who had read Thesiger’s book in Arabic to discuss their opinions, The three men are Gibali while Thesiger’s Dhofari travel companions were from the Bait Kathir (Gibali and Bedu) and Rashid (Bedu) tribes. Gibali and Bedu cultures are seen as quite similar by outsiders; both communities place a great deal of emphasis on courtesy to guests, self-control, and self-reliance. For example, after researching Southern Omani culture for several years, it is easy for me as a teacher to differentiate students as being from Salalah, from other parts of Oman or Gibali/ Bedu, but I can’t immediately tell the difference between Gibali and Bedu students. Thus, although my informants were not from the tribes which are described by Thesiger, they are culturally close enough to the culture to tell if his descriptions are correct.

Their first reaction was straight-forward and positive: “what he describes is accurate” and Thesiger “was understanding the culture.” When I asked for more details, I was told “I like his hunger,” i.e. my informant respected Thesiger’s willingness to live the same life as the men he was traveling with. Another informant told me that he is “wide” like Bedu and Gibalis, in the sense of being patient, able to accept difficult situations.  On the other hand, one informant’s reaction to reading Thomas’ book was “I didn’t hate it.”

The two negative reactions were perceptions that Thesiger was a government spy and that he was homosexual. No one I have talked to believes he was traveling because of locusts. Neither was my argument that “some people like to travel, he just wanted to see something new” believed. I was told, “His real job was not looking for locusts, sure, [he was traveling] to know the people and lands and the strengths of the tribes to make maps to make the way for oil.”

There was also uneasiness about his sexuality. Thesiger, like T.E. Lawrence, addresses the issue directly, but says that is was not part of the Bedu’s life: “during all the time I was with them I saw no sign of it” (125). The men I spoke to about the book were ready to believe that was true of the Bedu, but not of Thesiger himself. I was asked directly several times if he was gay, based on his careful descriptions of the men, the close-up photos of the men and caring for bin Kabina when he was sick, an extreme example of Einfühlen:

The others crowded round and discussed the chances of his dying until I could scarcely stand it; and then someone asked where we were going tomorrow and I said that there would be no tomorrow if bin Kabina died (189).

Conclusion

Thesiger’s praise of the Bedu seems at times a desire to keep their lifeways intact for his benefit. He could return to British settlements when his “mind was taut with the strain of living too long among Arabs,” but for the Bedu to similarly cross cultures would mean their ruin (266). This is his most important Verstehen, not simply Einfühlen, for this contradiction is experienced by all of the Omanis I have met – not simply nostalgia for the past or childhood, but a sense that modernization has brought both benefits and drawbacks. To most Westerners, especially Westerners I have talked to in Salalah, modernization is only positive. In discussing the changes in Oman over the last 40 years, informants have told me that while life is much better, yet they are also reconstructing a more traditional way of life. One man with a technical job decided to start sleeping outside for months at a time. He would camp, wash himself in one of the open showering rooms [for men only, a shoulder-high, 15-foot square cement square with spigots for men to wash off for prayers and after fishing/ swimming] and then go to his work which involved communicating with satellites. Another man whose father practices transhumance taking care of camels, has an older brother who, after a successful career, now assists the father.

Travel writers roughly divide into Verstehen, with the focus on accurate reportage of language, distances, flora, fauna and closely observed behaviors, and Einfühlen, in which the author’s emotional connections to the place are foregrounded. Peter Mayne’s (1953) The Alleys of Marrakesh, has and is expected to have, a quite different description of a Moroccan suq than Clifford Geertz’s (1979) “Suq: The Bazaar Economy in Sefrou.” Thesiger is one of the few writers about southern Oman who has managed to manifest an appreciation of and respect for the local population, as well as convey their beliefs and habits accurately.

Reflections on Ethnographic Work: The Grasshopper

Predator Anthropologists, Anthropologist Predators: Anthropological Metaphors in Popular Movies

Ethnography – Finding the Middle Ground, part 1 of Discussing Photographs

‘Reflections on Marriage in Dhofar, Oman’ is accepted for publication

 

Reflections on Ethnographic Research: Deciding to Hire Expat Workers (part 1 of 4), repost

A book group I am in recently had an interesting discussion about the ethics of employing porters and Sherpas while traveling in the Himalayas. The conversation about what do you owe the people you employ made me think of this essay, originally published on Sept. 28, 2023.

Overview

By chance in the past few weeks I have read several articles about labor and migration on the Arabian Peninsula such as

  • Gardner, Andrew and Sharon Nagy. (2008). “Introduction: New Ethnographic Fieldwork Among Migrants, Residents and Citizens in the Arab States of the Gulf.” City and Society 20.1: 1-4.
  • Nagy, Sharon. (1998). “‘This Time I Think I’ll Try a Filipina’: Global and Local Influences on Relations Between Foreign Household Workers and Their Employers in Doha, Qatar.” City and Society 10: 83-103.
  • Sarmadi, Behzad. (2013). “‘Bachelor’ in the City: Urban Transformation and Matter Out of Place in Dubai.” Journal of Arabian Studies 3: 196-214.

There are lots of numbers, data sets, opinions and ideas in these texts – but no sense of what it’s like to interact with other expat workers. There is ethnographic work with and about them, but nothing about the writer’s personal economic exchanges: how to hire, discuss and pay wages, decide work load, etc. This isn’t a fault of the articles which have different objectives, but reading these texts made me reflect on my connections to other expat workers, how I manage them and how they manage me.

This essay will talk about my decision to hire help, later essays will talk in detail about some of the people who have worked for me and the types of adjustments that we both make. [The information about wages and dates are from monthly lists of expenses that I have kept since I moved to Dhofar. 1 Omani Riyal is about $2.40; there are 1000 baisa in one Riyal so the 500 baisa bill is worth about $1.20.]

***********

(photo by S. B.)

It is difficult to write about hiring people without sounding complacent, a point that was brought home when I read an ethnographic text about Western expats on the Arabian Peninsula who hired nannies and housekeepers. The author vilified the employers as spoiled, lazy, racist and delusional. The author had obviously never hired anyone to do work for them and had a healthy dislike of those who did.

Writing back against that attitude is not easy. I know I could do all the housework myself but I choose to hire someone to clean my house. This can be seen as indolent but I think it’s more helpful to situate one’s positionality when being critical. “I would never…” is very different than “I have never been in the position to…”.

My decision to hire help is predicated on several lifestyle differences such as how housing designs here allow bugs and sand to enter, the monsoon season and the size of houses.

When I visit my mom in the summer it always takes me a few days to tone down my bug vigilance. “MOM, CRUMBS!!!” I yell on the first morning when I walk into the kitchen and see evidence of sliced bread on the countertop. I quickly rinse the bread board, wipe down the bread knife and inspect the countertops for any speck of bread. Luckily, she has great tolerance for this and within a day or two I mellow out as I remember that a few crumbs on the counter sink will not induce hordes of critters to invade her kitchen.

When I get back to my own kitchen in Dhofar, I return to my watchful ways because I live in a cement block house where ants and cockroaches come out from cracks in the tiling and up from the sink and floor drains. They even crawl out though the electric outlet openings. Twice I have had mice scurry up to my first-floor apartment through the washing machine outtake pipe. There are lizards on the walls, bees flying in through the AC vents and spiders galore.

When I talk about the people I have hired to help me by cleaning my house, I know it can seem like I am lazy. I moved to the Middle East with bona fides of self-sufficiency. When I was a child, I had daily chores and once I lived on my own, I have doing all the cleaning myself. But life is different herein Oman.

For example, I have done my own laundry since I was in 6th grade and it’s simple: put everything in washing machine, then the dryer, fold and put away. But there are no dryers here and my top-loading washer has two bins. You put the clothes in the left-hand side bin, add soap, let it fill with water and turn the knob to agitate the water. Then you let the water drain and lift the sopping wet fabric up and place it in the right-hand bin which spins the water out. Then you hang everything on drying racks, wait for it all to dry, fold and put away. Going to a friend’s house and using her washer/dryer combo in the States makes me ask, “What do you do with all your spare time? Put your clothes in the machine, come back an hour later to find everything clean and dry? It’s a dream!”

Also, my friends’ houses are not in close proximity to deserts. “Sweeping the floor” means one thing in my mom’s house and something very different after a 3-day, 40 kph sandstorm in my Dhofari house where you can see daylight between the window frames and house walls. It’s a joy to sweep in my mom’s house; it takes about 5 minutes and you end up with a tiny pile to discard. After a sandstorm here I need to sweep the entire house and dust everything which takes hours. And there are usually more than 5 sandstorms every winter.

In addition, from June until the end of August, Dhofar has a monsoon season with drizzle and fog on most days. As this is also the time of annual vacation, if there is no one to clean the floors, turn fans on and off and keep watch, mold can grow. I brought a friend home from the airport when she returned to start the school year and when we walked into her living room, her sofas were coated with black mold. When I came back from vacation this summer and opened my car door, the front seats and dashboard cover were green with mold, there were even threads of mold hanging down from steering wheel.

When I lived in Madison, Boston, Minneapolis, and Grand Forks, I had a studio or one-bedroom apartment which was easy to take care of. In Salalah, apartment buildings are usually exclusively expat and I want to live in Omani neighborhoods, which means renting a small house or a floor of a house which are built for extended families. My “small” apartment has a salle, majlis, kitchen, 3 small bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. Friends who have rented houses with 4 or 5 bedrooms just shut the doors of the rooms they don’t use but I would rather hire someone to clean all the spaces.

A related point is that it’s better for me to have a slightly larger place to live as there are fewer “third spaces” here. In the month of Ramadan, for example, cafes are closed until after sunset. In the monsoon season, roads can be so crowded, it’s better to stay home. During Covid lockdowns and curfews I was really grateful I could turn the 3rd bedroom into a work space for on-line teaching. I also like that the woman who cleans my house has a key and can feed the cats if I am away for the weekend camping.

In addition to the calculations of spending time (washing clothes, sweeping, getting rid of mold) vs. spending money (paying someone to clean my house), there is the aspect of how easy it is to get help from someone who wants to work.

When I owned a car in the States, I would wash it now and then but here it is a government regulation that cars must be clean. So I could either spend ten minutes every morning wiping the sand off my truck or I hire someone to do it for me. In most parking lots of large stores, there are expat men who do this work for a small fee. Where I work, there are two men who come every morning to the covered parking area. You can pay them 500 baisa for each cleaning if you want it now and then or 10 Riyal for the month.

There are many such opportunities and I usually much hire and/ or tip everyone both because it makes my life easier and because I have been in need in my own life. I spent years without health insurance because I couldn’t afford it. I have always worked since I was in high school but I had to take out student loans for college. If my older brother had not kindly settled my student loans, it would have taken me at least a decade to pay them off. After the 1997 Red River flood, I ate Red Cross meals for weeks. Having received so much help in my life, I feel I need to be generous.

Every week, I give a money to the people who clean the building where I work and I tip the men who bag groceries. Although it’s not habitually done here, I always tip wait-staff and delivery men. When expat government employees are cutting weeds near my house, I hand out cash and bottles of water. If it’s safe to pull to the side of the road and I have cash in dashboard cubby hole, I give cash to the men who sweep streets. If I have time when there is a team of expat men gardening along the roadside near my house, I will buy cookies, as well as liters of water and soda, and hand them over.

Before I became an Associate Professor, I worked in sandwich shops, restaurants, libraries, a bookstore and an antique store and I can push my own grocery cart. But if I am walking in the parking lot of a grocery store and a man in the jumpsuit uniform of a cleaner walks towards me with his hands extended, I know he is asking to bring my cart to my car for a 1 Riyal tip. So I step away from my cart and let him push – a move that can be seen as being lazy/ exploitative or giving someone a chance to earn extra money.

Reflections on Ethnographic Research: Situating Expat Workers (part 2 of 4)

Reflections on Ethnographic Research: Expat Workers and Reciprocity (part 3 of 4)

Reflections on Ethnographic Research: Expat Workers and Issues of Payment (part 4 of 4)

Frankincense in Dhofar, Oman

Reflections on Ethnographic Research: (Not) Asking Questions

I was looking through posts and found this one from Aug. 2022 – in relation to my forthcoming book on marriages, it’s a good example of how I do research in terms of what I ask and what I am told

“What is your favorite fruit?”

I stared in surprise at the younger relative who had just asked me that. There are a group of us eating breakfast and chatting; the question seemed odd to me, but I answered. Then I realized that I should ask “back.” So I asked her what her favorite fruit is.

Thinking about that exchange, I decided that I am out of practice for being asked questions. With my friends in Dhofar, I usually follow their pattern which is “if you want someone to know something, tell them.” Direct questions are rare, especially questions about expressing a preference.

At a friend’s house a few weeks later, I was talking to her son about of interest of his and ran into the opposite problem. I recognized afterwards that I should have asked what “his favorite” was – I had missed a good chance to hear his opinions.

Remembering those two moments in which I felt out of tune with American conversational tactics made me consider how I use and don’t use questions while doing research. Part of my hesitation about asking Dhofaris about their ideas and lives comes from trying to find a balance between a good friend and a good researcher. It’s not necessarily a tension, but it means (as Dhofaris say) “holding myself,” trying to think before speaking and choosing the right time and reason for asking for information.

As one example, a few years ago I asked one of the research guys (X) if he was free to have a picnic with the group on a Thursday night. He told me that his sister was getting married. I read that statement as a way of shutting down, not opening up, further conversation. If he had simply said, “I am busy” I probably would have asked if he wanted to meet with the group on Friday. I interpreted him telling me about the wedding, as if he was saying, “I and the people who you know in my family and extended family will all be busy all weekend” given that weddings are usually held on Friday or Saturday nights and in the days before, all members of the household are getting ready.

Dhofaris usually only talk about relatives when there is a specific need and usually only ask if there is a specific reason, such as asking after someone who you were told was sick or going to travel. Hearing that his sister was getting married made me want to ask a lot of questions; with Americans, asking about a sibling’s wedding is a positive sign of interest in your friend. But I couldn’t justify asking him. In my opinion, there was no need for me to know details. Even though I wanted to know, I felt that I had to accept Dhofari standards so I replied with the conventional statements about how I wished the couple well and hoped everything would be well. The next time I saw him I asked about “the wedding” in general terms. He affirmed that everything went well and that was the end of the topic.

Later, the situation changed. I was writing the section of my Houseways book about how Dhofaris move rooms (or don’t) when they get married or divorced. One facet that came out in interviews was whether a married woman would spend the night in her family’s home with her husband. I had information from a few women, but I wanted to get a man’s perspective.

So during a picnic, I told X that, if it was ok, I wanted to ask a few questions about where couples stayed after they were married. He agreed.

The next time I saw him, I pulled out my notebook and, even though I had done other interviews with him about topics related to houses, I started again at the beginning by explaining the Houseways project, then about my current focus about how people moved between houses. I said I wanted to ask some questions on that topic and that I would not write his name, tribe or any details that would allow readers to identify him or any family members.

When he agreed, I picked up my pen, opened my book and started in. I asked him about which houses he had spent the night in as a child and after he was married. Then I said, “Is it ok if I ask about your sister?” When he agreed, I asked a whole series of questions: How often does your sister come to visit your family house (where she was raised)? When your sister comes to visit, does she spend the night? How often? Does her husband stay the night with her? etc.

Then I moved on to general questions (do you know of any examples of married women who spend the night in their family’s house with their husband?) and hypotheticals. Then I paged back to a previous interview. I told him that I had asked a woman (Y) from Z group of tribes about this issue, I was going to read what she said and could he please give his opinion on her attitude.

I wrote up the interviews, tried to figure out the variables of the decision tree of who stays where in which house, then discussed what I had written with X, Y and other informants. At the end, I had a few paragraphs which I think accurately sum up the issue.

In the general context of talking between friends, asking X about his sister was not OK. But in the specific context of me trying to figure out how married Dhofari women maneuver through various houses, asking X questions directly related to my research was acceptable. He was helping me understand a world-view, i.e. what choices people perceived they had and how those choices were decided.

I am happy to announce that my new book is now available for pre-order: Ethnographic Reflections on Marriage in Dhofar, Oman

Selected Books on Dhofar in Arabic

Reflections on Ethnographic Research in Dhofar Oman

Culture Shock – Returning to USA

I am happy to announce that my new book is now available for pre-order: Ethnographic Reflections on Marriage in Dhofar, Oman

Ethnographic Reflections on Marriage in Dhofar, Oman

(book cover photo and post photo by Onazia Shaikh)

https://anthempress.com/books/ethnographic-reflections-on-marriage-in-dhofar-oman-hb

Examines how middle-class Muslim men and women in Dhofar, Oman, make and negotiate marital choices, tracing every stage of marriage through their own personal accounts.

Studying Marriage in Dhofar, Oman explains the choices middle-class, Muslim, tribal Dhofari men and women make when creating a life together. Based on 19 years observations of and discussions about Omani marriages, the book shows all the steps of marriage, including how people decide to get married, the wedding invitations and parties are arranged, the newlyweds’ home is organised, the work within a marriage is delineated, and a marriage succeeds or falls apart. Unlike many texts about family life on the Arabian Peninsula, the author spoke extensively to both men and women, so that the book is rich with examples of Omanis explaining their personal decisions.

There are no comparable texts which look at the complete scope of a marriage from deciding to marry, to asking to marry, arranging the wedding parties, creating a successful marriage, and coping with stresses such as children, divorce, polygamy and widowhood.

The book starts with a discussion of how a man might find a bride and how a young woman might create or avoid situations in which she would be asked to marry. There is a discussion of how people might fight to (or not to) marry and all the steps taken after the engagement, including sending out announcements and preparing where the new couple will live. All types of marriage parties are described, including taking photos and displaying the gifts. Next, there is an overview of how the couple can create a marital relationship, followed by an examination of what might go wrong in a marriage, which looks at topics such as incompatibility, gross misconduct and divorce. There is a chapter on pregnancy, which includes a discussion on how children are named. The books ends with a short overview of specific aspects of marriage such as who has free time and what ‘family time’ means.

Recreating Culture – Lessons from Bakeries and Cafeterias

Reflections – Dhofari Conversations

Photographs of Dhofar by Onazia Shaikh 

Frankincense in Dhofar, Oman

Frankincense in Dhofar, Oman

Onaiza Shaikh, whose photographs I have used for several projects, sent me several gorgeous photos so I thought I would do a short post on frankincense in Dhofar. 

two reputable stores which sell Dhofari frankincense:

We Remember What Frankincense Was Meant to Be. For thousands of years, frankincense was an offering. Carried by hand. Burned with intention. Passed down through memory. Sacrasoul exists to remember. To keep ancient materials whole. The resins. The oils. The traditions. And the people who have guarded them, quietly, for generations. We are not here to improve what already knows how to endure. We are here to pass it on — unchanged.

Pure Aromatics Since 1997 – Established in 1997, stands as New York’s quintessential shop for natural aromatics, including essential oils, absolutes, and enfleurages. Our steadfast commitment to natural essence means we strictly avoid synthetics in all our offerings. Alongside aromatic oils, we’re proud to present an exquisite selection of hydrosols, bespoke botanical perfumes, skincare, haircare, and specialty items like roll-ons, raw incense, and handcrafted frankincense candles.

essay about the use of frankincense in Dhfoari homes

Crafting a Home: Interior Home Design in Southern Oman

a few texts about frankincense/ the ecology of Dhofar

Al-Hikmani, Hadi and Andrew Spalton. 2021. Dhofar: Monsoon Mountains to Sand Seas – Sultanate of Oman. Chicago: Gilgamesh Publishing.

Ball, Lawrence, Douglas MacMillan, Joseph Tzanopoulos, Andrew Spalton, Hadi Al Hikmani and Mark Moritz. 2020. “Contemporary Pastoralism in the Dhofar Mountains of Oman.” Human Ecology. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10745-020-00153-5

Boom, Andrea. 2024. “Small, Green, and Prickly: Local Botanical Knowledge in Modern South Arabian Languages.” Proceedings of the Semitic Studies Section at the 34th DOT at Freie Universität Berlin. Simona Olivieri and Shabo Talay, eds. 85-99.

Janzen, Jorg. 2000. “The Destruction of Resources among the Mountain Nomads of Dhofar,” in The Transformation of Nomadic Society in the Arab East, University of Cambridge Oriental Publications 58. Martha Mundy and Basim Musallam, eds. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 160-75.

—. 1986. Nomads in the Sultanate of Oman: Tradition and Development in Dhofar. London: Westview Press.

“Frankincense Research and Conservation.” n.d. Environmental Society of Oman. https://eso.org.om/frankincense/

Johnson, Stephen, Ali Bait Said, Petr Vahalík, Lukáš Karas, Maïa Sarrouf Willson, Frans Bongers. 2025. Rapid Conservation Assessment of Boswellia Sacra in Oman Reveals Complex Threat and Population Patterns.” Journal of Arid Environments 229.

Lewis, Krista. 2022. “The Land of Frankincense: Dhofari Sites as National and World Heritage,” in Sultan Qaboos and Modern Oman, 1970–2020. Allen James Fromherz and Abdulrahman al-Salimi, eds. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.67-88.

Miller, Anthony, Miranda Morris, and Susanna Stuart-Smith, Plants of Dhofar, the Southern Region of Oman: Traditional, Economic, and Medicinal Uses, (Muscat: Office of the Adviser for Conservation of the Environment, Diwan of Royal Court, 1988).

Morris, Miranda. “The Aloe and the Frankincense Tree in Southern Arabia: Different Approaches to Their Use.” Herbal Medicines in Yemen: Traditional Knowledge and Practice, and Their Value for Today’s World. Ingrid Hehmeyer and Hanne Schönig, eds. Brill: Boston, 2012. 103-126.

—. “The Harvesting of Frankincense in Dhofar.” In Alessandra Avanzini, ed.  Profumi d’Arabia. Rome: L’Erma Bretschneider, 1997. 231-250.

Sale, J. 1980. “The Ecology of the Mountain Region of Dhofar.” The Journal of Oman Studies: Special Report 2: The Oman Flora and Fauna Survey 1975. Muscat: Diwan of H. M. for Protocol. 25-54.

Tabook, Salim Bakhit. 1997. Tribal Practices and Folklore of Dhofar, Sultanate of Oman. Unpublished PhD thesis, Faculty of Arts, Exeter University.

Watson, Janet, Jon Lovett and Roberta Morano, eds. 2023. Language and Ecology in Southern and Eastern Arabia. London: Bloomsbury.

Wilson, Jack, Janet C.E. Watson, Andrea Boom and Saeed al-Qumairi. 2022. “Language, Gesture and Ecology in Modern South Arabian Languages,” in Language and Ecology in Southern and Eastern Arabia. Janet Watson, Jon Lovett and Roberta Morano, eds. 15-44.

Zimmerle, William. 2017. Crafting Cuboid Incense Burners in the Land of Frankincense: The Dhofar Ethnoarchaeology Preservation Project. Washington: Sultan Qaboos Cultural Center/Liberty House Press.

‘Reflections on Marriage in Dhofar, Oman’ is accepted for publication

Photographs of Dhofar by Onazia Shaikh 

My Favorite Description of Anthropology

Reflections – Dhofari Conversations

Ethnographic Work and Pop Songs, updated

(photo by M. A. Al Awaid)

A friend jokingly asked if I was going to talk about pop songs in my next book as my books were the only ones they had seen in which an academic author thanked Bernice Johnson Reagon, Bruce Springsteen, Elton John, Josh Ritter, the Muppets, Pink, Prince, and Toby Keith in the acknowledgments. I said yes.

Living where I do research and living overseas for more than eighteen years was sometimes difficult. Sometimes I drive around town with the car windows rolled up blasting the Boss; sometimes the only way to get motivated to sit down and work on a Friday morning is to play Toby Keith.  I see listing the songs and singers as a way of being honest about how I do research.

Recognizing that I use pop songs to keep me focused is modeling that researchers do not have to be serious all the time, in the same way I try to model honest behavior for my students. Acknowledging pop songs is similar to my saying to students “I don’t know” or “I am not sure about the spelling of that word.” Sometimes a student will gasp, “YOU DON’T KNOW?” I laugh and explain that there are no spelling bees in Germany because they aren’t needed, but every state in the USA has spelling contents because English spelling can be tricky with all the loan words. So, no, I don’t know how to spell every word in English and I sometimes need to do a quick check to make sure.

About a week after I started on-line teaching I watched the movie Trolls and I loved the song “Get Back Up Again.” All that spring “Get Back” was on constant repeat as I fought unfamiliar tech, attempted new ways of teaching and tried to increase student involvement (“TURN ON YOUR MICROPHONES!”). Now when I hear “Get Back Up Again” I am transported back to those tough weeks in March – May 2020 when I left my apartment once a week to go to the grocery store. Bereft of my café, friends, chats with colleagues, the pool where I went swimming and picnics with the research guys, that saccharine song was my stay-positive mantra.

When I first heard the line “I don’t know when, confused about how as well” from the song “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol, I thought: that’s my life as a researcher. I am constantly trying to make sense of what I am seeing and I spend a lot of time living in confusion.

When I used to do teacher-training, I would tell teachers to work from their strengths, be frank when they were lost and ask for help when they needed it. By embracing my inner Top 40 doo-wop persona, I practice what I preach.

from my books:

Researching and Working on the Arabian Peninsula: Creating Effective Interactions. Palgrave Macmillan, 2025
To the singers who helped me through so many long drives late at night on dark roads: Jimmy Buffet, Lucky Ali, Prince, Toby Keith and (just in time) Tortured Poets, as well as “Angel” Sarah McLachlan; “Arms of an Angel” Soweto Gospel Choir; “City of New Orleans” and “My Heros Have Always Been Cowboys” Willie Nelson; “Cloudy Day,” Tones and I; “Gone with the Angels” Shaggy; “Lost and Found” Brooks and Dunn; “Locomotion” Orchestral Manoeuvers in the Dark; “Low” and “Wild Ones” Flo Rida; “Montego Bay” Bobby Bloom; “Ngarra Burra Ferra” Jessica Mauboy, Jade MacRae, Lou Bennett and Juanita Tippens; “Seven Spanish Angels,” Willie Nelson and Ray Charles; and “A World of Your Own” cast of Wonka.

Houseways in Southern Oman. Routledge, 2023

I am grateful for Aida (Broadway and concept albums); “Mama Knows the Highway,” Hal Ketchum; “Unwritten,” Natasha Bedingfield; “La Vie Boheme,” Rent; “Drunk Americans,” Toby Keith; “American Rock ’n Roll,” Kid Rock, “Let the River Run,” Carly Simon, as well as Jimmy Buffet, Pink, Prince, Bob Seger, Shaggy and Tina Turner.

Foodways in Southern Oman. Routledge, 2021

Thanks to Kid Rock (for the slow songs, not the politics, not the rap), Pink, Toby Keith and all the songs picked by Steve Nathans-Kelly which got me through a lot of long drives late at night on dark roads.

Community and Autonomy in Southern Oman. Palgrave Macmillan, 2019

I would like to thank the memory of Gerald Durrell and Lawrence Durrell, whose books pulled me out into the world: Jersey, Cyprus, Rhodes, Provence and Alexandria. I have lived over 15 years overseas and have missed a lot of popular culture, but I am grateful for The Mummy (1932 and 1999 versions), Chariots of Fire (1981), Sahara (2005), Black Gold (2011), Theeb (2014), and A Perfect Day (2016), and “All these Things That I’ve Done” sung by the Killers; “If You’re Going Through Hell” sung by Rodney Akins; “Club Can’t Handle Me” sung by Flo Rida;  Elton John, especially “Island Girl” and Aida; Prince, especially “The One U Want to C”; Bruce Springsteen, especially “From Small Things” and “Frankie Fell in Love”; Toby Keith, especially “How Do You Like Me Now,” “Rum is the Reason,” and “Ain’t No Right Way”; Josh Ritter, especially “Getting Ready to Get Down” and “Girl in the War”; Bernice Johnson Reagon; John Denver; Jimmy Buffett; Kid Rock, and the Muppets.

Getting through Covid:

  • Big Energy – Latto, and the remix with Mariah Carey
  • Devil with the Blue Dress – Mitch Rider and the Detroit Wheels
  • Don’t Start Now – Dua Lipa
  • Duke of Earl – Gene Chandler
  • Happy all the Time from Elf
  • Hello, Hello – Elton John
  • House on Fire – Mimi Webb
  • I Don’t Feel Like Dancing – Scissor Sisters
  • Leave before You Love Me – Marshmello and Jonas Brothers
  • The Lion Sleeps Tonight – The Tokens
  • Mr Brightside – The Killers
  • The Other Side – SZA and Justin Timberlake
  • Pretty in Pink soundtrack
  • So Happy it Hurts – Bryan Adams
  • Thunder – Imagine Dragons

Reflections – Dhofari Conversations

Me Talk Pretty Never: Learning Arabic, part 1

Adjusting to Oman: My Dangerous Taxi

Practicalities: Managing a Short Research Trip to the Arabian Peninsula

Practicalities: Managing a Short Business Trip to the Arabian Peninsula

Predator Anthropologists, Anthropologist Predators: Anthropological Metaphors in Popular Movies

Now that there is a new Predator movie, I will need to watch it and see how it fits into the Predator framework.

Predator Anthropologists, Anthropologist Predators:

Anthropological Metaphors in Popular Movies (Risse 2017)

Time spent viewing anthropological films rarely yields the intellectual rewards of comparable time spent reading. Yet, ironically, time spent with merely ‘entertainment’ films is richly rewarded with ideas about the culture and society in which they originate. (Jarvie 1983 323)

Introduction

The cover of one of my anthropology textbooks has a white man in a white shirt, pressed pants, shoes and the accoutrements of academia (glasses, pen, notebook) talking to a woman with facial tattoos and cloth wrapped around her body. She’s “local,” with local knowledge and he’s the embodiment of a Western-style education. He’s going to take her information, compare it to other knowledge from other cultures, add in some theory and publish. He might get more grants to go out in the “field” again and interview some more locals, perhaps end up with tenure.

But what if the local woman, as she is passing along some native wisdom, hands him a cup of a native beverage, which he accepts as he wants more local experiences. The drink turns him into a terrible beast and, after a frightful rampage, he’s killed by his own colleagues. That’s the plot of The Relic (1997).

When I first saw the movie, I didn’t think of it in terms of anthropology, it was just a fun summer movie. But thinking about it later, I felt it was right on so many levels: the dangerous beast killing people in the museum is not ‘other’ or ‘exotic’; it’s the white, male academic who cluelessly went out to gather local knowledge without any respect for what that knowledge might entail. And after more than 14 years of living on the Arabian Peninsula, the movie is more relevant to me than ever. Going into the “field” changes an anthropologist in unexpected, sometimes unwanted, ways which are captured in films with a variety of metaphors.

Rewatching The Relic (1997) over the years has made me realize how unusually, wonderfully subversive it is and started me thinking about how popular movies can slotted into a taxonomy of the possibilities what can happen when an anthropologist leaves a homespace to enter a world of foreign “local” people.

Although I am not an aid-worker in 1995 in the war-ravaged Balkans, A Perfect Day (2016) is the best cinematic portrayal of my life in the Middle East. I live middle-class comfortable, teaching at a university but the feeling of the characters is very similar: the getting up and spending the day trying to do the right thing in a foreign environment, with no sense if one is ever actually helping anything but doing it anyway. I can relate to that. Tying ropes on the body of a dead, white man so that the local people can later use the ropes to haul the body away and have clean water. That’s an eerily helpful metaphor for teaching Shakespeare, Milton, Wilde and Shaw on the Arabian Peninsula.

 And most people who have lived expat for years, even those not in the military, can relate to the scene in Hurt Locker (2008) in which James (Jeremy Renner) stands stupefied in the cereal aisle and the continual displacement/ disorientation of Billy-Lynn in Billy-Lynn’s Long Half Time Walk (2016) and Krebs in Soldier’s Home (1977), based on a Hemingway short story.

Homespace and “Local” Space

Displacement and disorientation are key to the anthropologist’s experience. To do anthropology, the anthropologist has to come out of some kind of homespace where the rules are known and go out into the “field,” a new place with unknown rules which the anthropologist must learn well enough to explain to people back in the homespace, especially the academics.

The point is to gather knowledge and then go home: “The conventional Western anthropologist, remember, is not really a native and, therefore, finds it necessary to determine when enough is enough, when it is finally time to emerge from the fray of the field to write-up” (Jarvie 2004 34). Sometimes anthropologists do work in their own [known] community, in which case they need to explain the culture in academic terms to foreigners.

At heart there are two places: homespace and ‘away,’ and the two main characters: protagonist/ anthropologist and the locals. Appadurai, using the term “natives,” writes an excellent description:

Natives are in one place, a place to which explorers, administrators, missionaries, and eventually anthropologists, come… Natives are those who are somehow confined to places by their connection to what the place permits…They are confined by what they know, feel, and believe. They are prisoners of their ‘mode of thought’… [they are] are in one place, a place to which explorers, administrators, missionaries, and eventually anthropologists, come (1988 37)

I use “locals” because natives are often not native. Where I work one group claims the status as “natives” but most people I know explain that their tribe originated in another place and moved here centuries ago. In anthropology and movies, the locals are the “marked” set – they are different, distinct. They are the ones who are maybe magic, maybe from another planet, and as the protagonist/ anthropologist is gathering information about the locals, the locals are gathering information about the protagonist/ anthropologist.

There are multitudes of dangers: misunderstanding the locals, over-identifying with locals, romantic entanglements, being pulled into fights (siding with one group of locals against another group of locals, with outsiders against locals or with locals against outsiders) or, most dangerously, switching loyalties and becoming local.

The key film for the last possibility is Avatar (2009), anthropology porn. The hero Jake (Sam Worthington) effortlessly melds with the locals, not needed the pedantic knowledge-based approach of Dr. Grace Augustine (Sigourney Weaver) and Norm Spellman (Joel David Moore). Jake learns, adapts and in the end blends seamlessly into the local society. From my experience, anthropologists are more similar to Richie Lanz (Bill Murray) in Rock the Kasbah (2015) and Kim Baker (Tina Fey) in Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (2016); they arrive lost and clueless, acquire some hard-won knowledge and leave with a better sense of all that they don’t know.

Kids’ and Action Movies – A Short Taxonomy

Two kinds of popular movies often have a character leaving homespace and attempting to understand, perhaps assimilate, into new territory for survival purposes: kids’ and action movies. Kids’ movies are interesting because the new land is adulthood which, once crossed into, can’t be left. The homespace, childhood, is left behind forever. I think part of the reason Avatar was so popular is that it shows that even after you grow up, you can revert to Peter Pan. Jake was a child, became a soldier and then has the chance to go live in a brightly colored, happy culture where he is the equivalent of royalty.

 Action movies are also useful for thinking about representations of anthropology because it’s a genre in which assuming one knows how to navigate unfamiliar territory is almost always punished. Many action (and horror) films are based on the principle of a person going to (or staying in) a place the locals shun and getting chomped.

Without trying to be comprehensive, I would like to briefly sketch out how movies might be sorted out in terms of an protagonist/ anthropologist v. local framework. First, there are the self-contained alien places; people from different areas might interact but there is no one from outside the invented framework, i.e. Hobbit (2012)/ Lord of the Rings (2001, 2002, 2003), Princess Bride (1987), Golden Compass (2007), Star Wars and all the Star Trek iterations.

There are movies in which someone goes to a foreign land in a way which can’t be duplicated such as an innate ability for the main characters as with Inkheart (2008), the Harry Potter films and Stardust (2007); a foreign object that enmeshes you such as the board game in Jumanji (1995); or a location in movies for children such as the Never-ending Story (1984), the three Chronicles of Narnia films (2005, 2008 and 2010), and Night at the Museum (2006, 2009, 2014); in action and horror movies, someone finds or makes a portal such as Stargate (1994).

 A third type is the protagonist/ anthropologist figure who ends up in foreign territory inadvertently, as with the children’s’ movies Lost in the Desert/ Dirkie (1969/1970), Walkabout (1971), A Far-Off Place (1993) and countless action/ horror movies such as Pitch Black (2000), and even in cases when the “locals” are not even sentient such as the deadly vines in The Ruins (2008). In this kind of movie, the protagonist/ anthropologist figure needs to get up to speed quickly on the local culture or die.

 A fourth type is when the protagonist/ anthropologist is ordered into the foreign territory. In children’s movies this is usually because the parents have moved, for example Tiger Eyes (2012) and Inside Out (2015). In the action/ horror genres is it usually because of military orders, i.e. Avatar (2009) and Billy-Lynn’s Long Half Time Walk (2016).

Sometimes the protagonist/ anthropologist goes deliberately into the new territory specifically to learn about the people, as with Spiderwick (2008) and Epic (2013) for children and the Relic (1997), Rock the Kasbah (2015) and Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (2016). Some of the action movies throw in a romantic twist, as in Continental Divide (1981) and Crocodile Dundee (1986). At the end of all of these types of movies, the protagonist/ anthropologist usually returns to the homespace having learned about the place and him/herself – “other” serves as a place to grow and develop as with A Far-Off Place (1993) and Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017) and whoever survives in the horror/ action movies. In some movies the portal stays open and the protagonist/ anthropologist manages a way to stay connected to homespace and the “other”; this happens most often in children’s movies such as Night at the Museum (2006, 2009, 2014), Spiderwick (2008) and Epic (2013).

Another option is that the protagonist/ anthropologist will choose the new territory and stay there forever, again this is usual in children’s movies when the main character has a magical connection to the new land such as the three Chronicles of Narnia films (2005, 2008 and 2010), and Stardust (2007). For children without inherent magic, those who choose the new territory are always seen as “lost,” as with the Emerald Forest (1985). This type of ending is so perilous, the ending of the books are changed when made into movies so that the child safely reassimilates as with Light in the Forest (1958) and Jungle Book (1967 version). This tension fuels all the versions of Tarzan.

In adult movies, choosing the new territory over homespace is also almost always dangerous. In a few cases, the protagonist is no longer ‘at home’ in the homespace and accepts a better life with the new culture, as with Dances with Wolves (1990) and Avatar (2009), but most often the protagonist/ anthropologist becomes trapped in a nightmarish existence as with Silence (2016).

 The movement can be reversed in which a “local” person from the “marked” territory comes to the “normal” world. This is a staple in children’s movies: Mary Poppins (1964), Peter Pan (2003)/ Pan (2015), and Nanny McPhee (2005). In action movies, the out-of-place character is usually dangerous, i.e. Men in Black (1997), and sometimes danger mixed with humor, i.e. Rush Hour (1998). The “local” usually rejects the “normal” space, for example The Gods Must Be Crazy (1980) and Rabbit-Proof Fence (2002).    

 Movies in which the “local” comes into the “normal” space and successfully assimilates are almost always comedy and romantic, i.e. Enchanted (2007). If not romantic, then it’s usually the sub-genre of sci-fi/ horror such as with the Species and Alien franchises.

The Dangers of Static Frames of Reference and Moving Knowledge

The movies I am most interested in are the ones which center on two aspects of knowledge: learning and bringing it home. In their classic anthropology text, Michrina and Richards explain that the anthropologist “gathers data,” “attributes some meaning” and “constructs an understanding of the whole group from interpreted pieces of data,” most importantly by placing “him- or herself in a ‘one-down’ position in trying to obtain an understanding from informants” (1996 7, 23). From this ‘one-down’ position, one gathers knowledge that is for the benefit, in Jarvie’s term, of the “home society”:

The ethnographic report (E) is evidence about (not part of) the anthropology of a society (S). The anthropological book (B) discussing E is part of the anthropological history (AH) not of the society (S), but of its home society (HS). (1983 324)

 Or as Agar puts it, “The important part was to come home and address colleagues in anthropologese” (2011 10). This can all go wrong in so many terrible (when it happens to you as an anthropologist) and fabulous (when you watch it on a screen) ways.

Static Frames of Reference

 The first danger is not seeing what is in front of you. This is the standard opening of so many entertaining movies in which a character (usually one of the first to be munched) declares something along the lines of: the bats are sure acting funny these days, seems like a lot of spiders around, we have all possible security precautions in place, or of course the sharks can’t learn how to…. Large footprints by the lake, a jump in temperature readings, something that looks like an egg but couldn’t possibly be an egg, etc. are explained away because the people in charge know what is there, know what is what, know what is going on and know what will happen. Until the T-Rex eats them.

 Exactly like anthropologists arriving in “local space” with a knowledge of the language, a living stipend and a research plan approved by their advisor and the university ethics board only to find out that the plan won’t work. It means fully preparing to study X, arriving in the “local space” and realizing that studying X is not possible; for example in Menoret’s Joyriding in Riyadh: Oil, Urbanism, and Road Revolt (2014).

  In Behind the Veil in Arabia: Women in Oman, Wikan writes, “I harbored a dream to meet the real, authentic Arabia” (1982 3). However, Wikan notes that the women’s “calm, quiet, self-control, that mute self-assured poise, was to prove the major obstacle all the way through to getting to know, really to know, the Soharis” (10). In the introduction and appendix, Wikan makes it clear that she finally understood after leaving Oman that this “gracious facade” (13) was the fundamental truth, “what matters is how the other acts, not what he or she ‘really’ thinks”; it is “an axiom of Omani culture that persons are endowed with different natures which determine the way they behave. It is for others to acknowledge and accept this” (13, 238).

 This kind of anthropological journey of understanding is portrayed in cinematic terms in Kong: Skull Island (2017) in which the characters learn that what they thought was the problem, isn’t the problem. Watching Preston Packard (Samuel L. Jackson) argue that Kong is the enemy which needs to be destroyed teaches the viewer two important lessons: don’t let traumatized survivors make tactical decisions and don’t take out the target unless you understand ramifications.

 The film is made with the battle lines of good vs. evil, the hero battling the monster. But I read it as the protagonists (who are not exactly heroes) battling their own dangerously static frames of reference for understanding. At the beginning of Kong Gunpei Ikari (Miyavi) and Hank Marlow (John C. Reilly) think they are each other’s enemy until they realize there is a bigger threat. Bill Randa (John Goodman), the only survivor of a battleship which was destroyed by an undescribed monster, comes to the island looking to flush out and kill the monster(s) he assumes are there. When Kong appears in response to the bombs dropped by Randa and starts swatting the helicopters, it is assumed he is the dangerous monster which needs to be killed.

 James Conrad (Tom Hiddleston), Mason Weaver (Brie Larson) and the soldiers think they are looking at walls when they are looking at people; a soldier sits on a log which is actually an insect, which he shoots, although it is harmless, and the noise of the gun bring the actual danger. Other soldiers think the legs of a giant spider are tree trunks and that a giant moose is an island. Everyone from off-island thinks Kong is the threat but it’s actually the “skull crawlers.” In the final fight, the soldiers, scientists and journalist distract the large skull crawler, but it’s Kong who (before and again now) saves the day. The interlopers brought the monster up out of the ground with their bombs; Kong has to clean up the mess.

 One of the characters, Hank, is the patron saint of people like me who, having lived and researched as an expat in a foreign country for an extended period of time, must deal with newly arrived researchers happy to explain everything to me. Hank, who has been stuck on the island for decades, brings the newly arrived soldiers, scientists and journalists to the local’s village. When the male and female leaders come to meet the group, Hank looks at them silently. After a minute, the two locals bow their heads slightly. Hank says quietly, “Thank you, thank you,” then turns to the Americans and says more loudly, “So, good news, they say you can shack up here.” The lead soldier says, “I didn’t hear them say anything.” Later Hank mutters, “I’ve only been here 28 years, what do I know,” as the soldiers insist on walking into a death trap.

That’s my life. I do research with a group of people who signal violent disagreement with an almost inaudible intake of breath, show anger with a barely perceptible tensing of the body, express displeasure by giving compliments and say “Yes, we will definitely…” when they mean, “No.” Trying to explain this to other expats and researchers leads to the question: “Well why don’t they just say what they mean?” They are saying what they mean, just in signals and words outsiders don’t correctly decipher, often thinking that there is nothing to decipher.

The same faulty premise of an anthropologist landing in new territory and believing they understand what is happening runs through the Predator movies. Both Kong and Predator are fundamentally about the painful process of realizing one’s misunderstandings and recalibrating knowledge

In the original Predator (1987), an elite military team is sent to a central American jungle to rescue a “cabinet minister.” They soon realize that the premise was a set-up and that they, in turn, are being hunted by an alien Predator. Lied to by the CIA agent, lost in every sense of the word, the group are killed off one by one and the hero survives by covering himself in mud, the ultimate blending into the landscape. One woman also survives.

The sequel, Predator 2 (1990), was less successful: I believe partially because it has the more standard premise of ‘alien creatures show up and get killed.’ There’s nothing new or remarkable in terms of theory or execution.

However, the third iteration takes an interesting turn. Predators (2010) starts with several humans waking up in the middle of a parachute drop into a tropical forest similar to the one in Predator. The ones who survive the drop band together when it becomes clear that they are being hunted by a team of 3 super-evolved Predators. They eventually realize that they are on a different planet and they were assembled because “we’re the monsters of our own world,” a serial killer, a gangster, a drug lord, etc.

A human who has survived serval hunting seasons eventually betrays them and the two remaining humans end up untying a captured, lesser-evolved Predator to help them fight. When all the Predators are dead, the remaining man and woman look up to see another group of humans dropping in parachutes and walk away to see if there is a way off the planet with a hopelessness equivalent of Charlton Heston at the end of Planet of the Apes (1968).

The set-up of Predator, the person pursuing knowledge who ends up as prey, is also found in the low-budget Alien vs. Predator (2004) in which a team of scientists and military looking for a mysterious pyramid under Antarctica find themselves in the middle of a fight between the Alien and Predator monsters. The small band of survivors eventually align with the Predator, as Predators and humans are ruthless hunters with a veneer of mortality while the Aliens are simply killers.[1] It’s notable that the only person to survive is a woman of color; in the original Predator, the only survivors are a Latina woman and Arnold.

The last film in the series, Alien vs. Predator – Requiem (2007), is like Predator 2. The Predator’s spaceship seen at the very end of Alien vs. Predator is carrying an Alien. When this is discovered, the fight onboard leads to the spaceship crashing in a small-town Colorado and the townspeople are caught in the middle of the fight between the two species. [2] 

If you sidestep the gore, the first and third movies in the series focus on the danger of thinking you know what you are getting into when navigating new territory and species. In the first Predator, Arnold thinks the enemy are the “guerillas” who shot down a helicopter and took hostages. He is very clear that he only does “rescue missions.” After killing a lot of people, he and his soldiers realize the CIA set them up; it’s a CIA mission, not rescue. Angry at this betrayal, they take the only surviving guerilla as hostage and try to get back to a place where they can be picked up by helicopter. As the move through the thick jungle landscape, they realize the real threat is something else, a creature with super powers which they can’t see. The Predator is not only stalking them, but studying them, recording and practicing their words.

 The hostage “enemy” is the one who understands what is going on but won’t trust Arnold with the truth until he cuts off her handcuffs and treats her as an equal. He, finally understanding the situation, kicks a gun out of her hands as he realizes the Predator only hunts prey worth killing, i.e. something that is trying to kill it. He tells her to run and draws attention to himself to allow her to escape.

Arnold then learns, by accident, that being covered in mud masks him from the Predator’s infrared sight. At the end of the movie, the Predator takes off its’ armor, as it wants to kill Arnold on equal terms; both the Predator and Arnold build traps to catch each other. Arnold backs out of the Predator’s trap but manages to catch the Predator in his trap. The Predator then sets off a massive explosion, assuming it will destroy evidence of itself and kill Arnold.

 In other words, the anthropologist arrives in country assured of moral superiority (Arnold only does “rescues”), starts to research, realizes all previously held assumptions are wrong, learns the “enemy” is actually the most helpful person, and it is not just previous training (how to build traps) but sacrifice, luck, and caution that allow success.

 The next movie, Predators, shows that it’s not just a matter of following Helmuth von Moltke’s advice that “no plan survives contact with the enemy,” but that one often can’t figure out what or who the enemy is. The characters first assume the other humans are the adversary, then realize it’s the Predators, then comprehend that there are different kinds of Predators, and lastly, that some of the humans are actually the most dangerous opponent.[3] A Mexican drug cartel enforcer, a Spetsnaz soldier, an Israel Defense Forces sniper, a Revolutionary United Front office, a Yakuza enforcer, and a mercenary/ former Black Ops soldier can’t see that it’s the meek doctor who is the biggest hazard to survival.

  The humans are constantly misreading the landscape by not understanding that they are on a different planet, they need to band together against the Predators, the person who comes to their ‘rescue’ is leading them into a trap and the doctor is only pretending to help them.

To look at the situation from the other perspective, the Predator arrives on Earth to hunt for material, figures out the locals are gathering knowledge about it as it is gathering knowledge about the locals, believes itself to be fully capable of decoding the landscape (unaware of the concealing properties of mud), and finally comprehends how far behind the learning curve it is. In Predators the aliens misread the situation, assuming they are the ones in charge of what is happening, not imagining that some of the humans will set the lesser-evolved Predator loose to hunt them.[4]

  The real-world implications of this are important. In an article about killings of Americans by Afghan security forces, Nissenbaum (2011) mentions the Afghani perceptions of Americans “violent, reckless, intrusive, arrogant, self-serving, profane, infidel bullies hiding behind high technology” and the American perceptions of Afghanis: “cowardly, incompetent, obtuse, thieving, complacent, lazy, pot-smoking, treacherous and murderous rascals.”

 In a later article, Nissenbaum (2012) quotes the draft of a US Army handbook, “Understand that they may have poor conflict resolution skills and that insults cause irrational escalation of violence.” Who do you think the “they” refers to? Who exactly have the “poor conflict resolution skills” and who cause an “irrational escalation of violence” if insulted?

Discussing this handbook, Mullins (2012) writes that it “takes the position that the killings of coalition forces by Afghans security personnel is caused at least in part by a cultural ignorance of some American and European troops in dealing with Afghans.”

 I know that hunt for information predominantly from one side, me talking to the local men in my research group, asking questions, trying out theories, watching, taking notes, reading other researchers etc., but I have also been on the receiving end of the hunt for information when relatives of female friends try to proselytize me. My friends know that I will not change my religion, but they can’t simply tell the other women “she won’t convert” as that would be impolite. I always smile and give my standard answer that “I can’t change from the religion of my parents,” and I tell my friends to make sure everyone knows that my friends have tried often to convert me.

 Often the women back down after a few tries, but some keep fighting. They try to explain Islam to me and when my friends say that I have read about it, they express frustration. They can’t understand how someone who lives in a Muslim country, who knows about Islam could refuse to become Muslim. They have found peace and joy in their religion and wish the same blessing for me; that I would find peace in my own religion makes no sense. There’s always a sameness and a sadness to these conversations: I am sitting in their style of clothes, at their relative’s house, speaking their language, why aren’t I crossing over to their religion?

 Sometimes people’s frameworks can stretch. I was sitting on a beach with one of the men (Z) in my research group and he asked if I had ever been married. I said no; one man wanted to ask me, but he wanted me at home with children and I… I paused. Z was a very religious, conservative man, and I wasn’t sure how he would take my choice. He waited a moment, then said, “You wanted to see the world, you wanted your career.” Z made the jump; he could envision the path to happiness that was right for me, although it was antithetical to his all beliefs. People talk about failure to communicate, but I think it’s actually a failure to imagine the possible correctness of actions that aren’t correct for you.

Moving Knowledge Between Homespace and Local

A second type of film focuses on the time after the protagonists/ anthropologists have finally acquired the knowledge that they left the homespace to acquire. What they know has to be codified/ organized/ structured and made to fit into homespace norms. But what happens when the knowledge so changes the person that there is no way to explain what one knows? As Tedlock explains

It is as though fieldwork were supposed to give us two totally independent things: reportable significant knowledge and unreportable mysticism and high adventure. If we were so foolish as to make the mistake of combining these elements, it would somehow seriously discredit our entire endeavor. (1991 71)

The danger for the academic Whittlesey in the Relic (1997) is he gets his high adventure, but it’s so unreportable, that he can’t impart the scientific knowledge he picked up along the way. In the book The Relic (1995), there is a thought-out reason why the culture created a way to turn a human into a monster, but the movie starts with the anthropologist Dr. Julian Whittlesey (Lewis van Bergan) being offered a “local” beverage during a night-time ceremony. In the quest for authentic knowledge, he drinks it and turns into a monster.

The slogan on the movie poster is: “They did the unthinkable. They brought it back.” But it’s misleading, there’s no “they,” only Whittlesey and “it” wasn’t “brought back,” he returns of his own volition. The movie ad plays on the assumption that danger is from outside, but the monster is Whittlesey, who returns to the museum where he worked. He’s got all the “local” knowledge he was so hungry for – an amazing scientific discovery about gene mutation, now that he can’t fit back into his homespace and he’s killed. The movie gives a fictional rendering of the danger of the protagonist/ anthropologist going “native,” not being able to create the necessary academic distance.

 The characters printed with words in Inkheart (2008) are another fictional representation of the chaos created when a person is caught between two worlds. “Half read out of the book,” they live in the “normal” world but words from the books they come from are etched on their skin to show they are still partially attached to their homespace. They can’t live fully in either space. As T.E. Lawrence in his classic Seven Pillars of Wisdom writes:

In my case the efforts of three years to live in the dress of Arabs, and to imitate their mental foundations, quitted me of my English self and let me look at the West and its conventions with new eyes; they destroyed it all for me. At the same time I could not sincerely take on the Arab skin; it was an affectation only. Easily was a man made an infidel…Sometimes these selves would converse in the void: and then madness was very near, as I believe it would be near the man who could see things through the veils at once of two customs, two educations, two environments. (1953 30)

In Steve Caton’s book about the movie, Lawrence of Arabia, Caton expands on this theme:

According to the movie, the cost of living with such a split cultural identity for a man like Lawrence is madness or burnout. This view is very much a modernist one, expounding the need for a stable, grounded, and holistic subject, no matter how complex and ambiguous that subject may be. The idea that a person could contain many different identities, depending on the context of action, some of the contradictory, is something that we are only now beginning to entertain as same and perhaps even desirable in a “postmodern” world. (1999 166)

Agar talks about what happens when two people “encounter each other in a way that estranges them from themselves” (2011 15). When I meet one of the local men in my research group in a public place like a café, every person who sees us, local or expat, codes our relationship as romantic. It isn’t but there is no way to make that clear. A large neon sign with the words “NOPE – JUST RESEARCH” would be seen as protesting too much. We want to talk and it’s not appropriate for him to come to my apartment nor me to his, so we meet, talk then go home to face our respective communities.

Discussion

  Beyond the fact that it’s not a good sign that soldiers stumbling around in foreign lands shooting people are so easily compared to anthropologists, what is the lesson of Kong and Predators? I don’t want to hash out or join the ‘anthropologists as government-funded oppressors’ argument, but to focus on one aspect: their certainty.

 Many expat researchers I have met have been imbued with a sense of conviction I find both admirable and lamentable. I don’t want to break the confidence of someone setting out in the field, but it is worrying to have so many conversations in which I am told X is dangerous, when it is not, and that Y is not dangerous, when it actually is. Not dangerous in the terms of large apes, aliens or lizards, but dangerous in terms of getting in the way of accomplishing one’s research.

I know researchers who have come with prestigious scholarships and fellowships who have told me that they have no interest or need in talking to the locals. Others seem unprepared for the draining emotional and mental displacement that living in a foreign country, no matter how beautiful the scenery and how charming the people, entails. Some brush aside my caution that living on someone else’s terms is difficult.

 When I sit on a beach with local men from my research group, they are never my antagonists. My misunderstandings, cultural prejudices, inability to get out of my own perspective and inattention to detail are what are holding me back from understanding. I have had luminous times, moments of clarity and insight, but also a lot of time spent cold, wet, exhausted, and hungry.

 “It’s all different,” I try to explain to researchers and am told something along the lines of, “Yes, of course, I know, I understand” but when the difference happens, the results are almost always painful. Agar says, “It is obvious that social/ cultural anthropology translates various emic ‘cultures’ into a shared etic framework” (2011 5) but what happens when the researcher and I, both expats, can’t find that shared framework? It is a mystery to me why, although here are frequent misunderstandings between me and my research group, I feel cultural gaps most frequently when talking to people whose life’s work is reaching across cultural gaps.

References

Agar, Michael. 2011. Making Sense of One Other for Another: Ethnography as Translation. Ethknoworks LLC. http://www.ethknoworks.com/files/Language_and_Communication_article.pdf

Appadurai, Arjun. 1988. “Putting Hierarchy in its Place.” Cultural Anthropology 3.1: 36-49.

Caton, Steve. 1999. Lawrence of Arabia: A Film’s Anthropology. Oakland, CA: University of California Press.

Jarvie, I.C. 1983. “The Problem of the Ethnographic Real.” Current Anthropology 24.3: 313-325.

Mullins, Michael. 2012, Dec. 12. “Top US Commander in Afghanistan Rejects Cultural Sensitivity Handbook.” The Washington Post http://www.newsmax.com/TheWire/afghanistan-cultural-sensitivity-handbook/2012/12/12

Lawrence, T. E. 2008 [1935]. The Seven Pillars of Wisdom: A Triumph. London: Vintage Books.

Michrina, Barry and Cherylanne Richards. 1996. Person to Person: Fieldwork, Dialogue and the Hermeneutic Method. Albany: State Univ. of NY Press.

Menoret, Pascal. 2014. Joyriding in Riyadah: Oil, Urbanism, and Road Revolt. New York: Cambridge University Press.

Nissenbaum, Dion. 2011, June 17. “Report Sees Danger in Local Allies: Study Says Killings of Americans by Afghan Security Forces Represent a ‘Systematic Threat’ to the U.S. War Effort.” The Wall Street Journal http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052702303499204576389763385348

Nissenbaum, Dion. 2012, Dec. 11. “Draft Army Handbook Wades into Divisive Afghan Issue.” The Wall Street Journal. https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10001424127887324024004578171561230647852

Tedlock, Barbara. 1991. “From Participant Observation to the Observation of Participation: The Emergence of Narrative Ethnography.” Journal of Anthropological Research 47: 69-94.

Wikan, Unni. 1982. Behind the Veil in Arabia: Women in Oman. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Other articles about culture and/ or movies

Abu-Lughod, Lila. 1991. “Writing Against Culture.” In Recapturing Anthropology, ed. Richard Fox. Santa Fe, N.M.: School of American Research Press. 137-62.

Brumann, Christoph. 1999. “Writing for Culture: Why a Successful Concept Should Not Be Discarded,” In Culture, a Second Chance? Supplement Special Issues Current Anthropology 40: S1-13.

Jackson, John. 2004. “An Ethnographic Filmflam, Giving Gifts, Doing Research and Videotaping the Native Subject/Object.” American Anthropologist 106.1: 32-42. 

Morphy, Howard. 1994. “The Interpretation of Ritual: Reflections from Film on Anthropological Practices.” Man 29: 117-146.

Movies Mentioned

Alien (1979)

Alien vs. Predator (2004)

Alien vs. Predator – Requiem (2007)

Avatar (2009)

Billy-Lynn’s Long Half Time Walk (2016)

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (2005)

The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (2008)

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (2010)

Continental Divide (1981)

Crocodile Dundee (1986)

Dances with Wolves (1990)

Emerald Forest (1985)

Enchanted (2007)

Epic (2013)

A Far-Off Place (1993)

The Gods Must Be Crazy (1980)

Godzilla (2014)

Golden Compass. (2007)

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (2001)
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (2002)
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.(2005)
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007)
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (2009)
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – Part 1 (2010), Part 2 (2011)

Hobbit (2012)

Hurt Locker (2008)

Inkheart (2008)

Inside Out (2015)

Jumanji (1995)

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle (2017)

Jungle Book (1967 version)

Kong: Skull Island (2017)

Light in the Forest (1958)

Lord of the Rings (2001, 2002, 2003),

Lost in the Desert/ Dirkie (1969/1970)

Mary Poppins (1964)

Men in Black (1997)

Nanny McPhee (2005)

Night at the Museum (2006, 2009, 2014)

Pan (2015)

Passengers (2016)

A Perfect Day (2016)

Peter Pan (2003)

Pitch Black (2000)

Planet of the Apes (1968)

Predator (1987)

Predator 2 (1990

Predators (2010)

Princess Bride (1987)

Rabbit-Proof Fence (2002)

The Relic (1997)

Rock the Kasbah (2015)

The Ruins (2008)

Rush Hour (1998)

Silence (2016)

Soldier’s Home (1977)

Species (1995)

Spiderwick (2008)

Star Wars Episode IThe Phantom Menace (1999)

Star Wars: Episode II—Attack of the Clones (2002)

Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith (2005)

Star Wars Episode IV A New Hope (1977)

Star Wars: Episode V—The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

Star Wars: Episode VI—Return of the Jedi (1983)

Star Wars: Episode VII—The Force Awakens (2015)

Star Wars: Episode VIIThe Last Jedi (2017)

Stardust (2007)

Tarzan (with various titles and subtitles, 1932, 1981, 1984, 1999, 2013, 2016)

Tiger Eyes (2012)

Walkabout (1971)

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (2016)

            [1] The other point of difference is that Aliens incubate in humans, while Predators take human skeletons as trophies. Bursting out of one’s stomach is generally seen as more awful than displaying one’s bones. Another researcher could look at the importance of physiognomy in the hierarchy of monsters but in match-ups, the more human-like/ less insect-like one always win: Predator vs. Alien, Godzilla vs. MUTO, Kong vs. Skull-crawlers, etc. Further, the Predator has the human aspect of laughing in contemplation of a future event at the end of Predator.

            [2] My point about people who go looking for something and find an alien is more interesting than “aliens show up and get killed”  is somewhat confirmed by review percentages: Predator (1987) (Rotten Tomatoes Tomatometer 80 / Rotten Tomatoes Audience Score 87 – 7.8 IMDB), Predator 2 (1990) (28/43 – 6.2), Predators (2010) (64/51 – 6.4), Alien vs. Predator (2004) (20/ 39 – 5.6), Alien vs. Predator – Requiem (2007) (11/ 30 – 4.7). The ranking is Predator (killers become prey), Predators (killers become prey), Predator 2 (aliens show up), Alien vs. Predator (scientist become prey), Alien vs. Predator – Requiem (aliens show up).

            [3] The same sequence obtains in the 2014 version of Godzilla. In the opening credits, Godzilla is the monster, but it turns out that Godzilla is the only one who can save humans from the truly destructive monster, the “Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organism.”

            [4] There is no escaping the grisly comparisons. A Predator standing in a tree holding up a skull, “Hey look at the thing from a foreign culture that I procured for myself” and me holding up what I have accumulated: an oryx horn, an old and traditionally made piece of fabric, a porcupine quill, a handmade basket, etc.

Predator article 

Reflections on Ethnographic Work: The Grasshopper

My Favorite Description of Anthropology

“Yemen with Yul,” travel essay published