After weeks of internet problems, I finally have access again. Obviously. How else would I be posting these little nuggets of fieldwork?
I was typing the other afternoon when my friend Emily appeared online. She is conducting her fieldwork in Argentina. It was great to catch up and talk honestly about fieldwork (more in a minute on that). After a few minutes, another friend from our department came online. Drew is working in Russa, Siberia to be exact. I was pretty excited because I hadn't spoken to Drew since I left the US. The three of us were discussing vital ethnographic issues such as weather, food, clothing, and language issues. Not three minutes later, yet ANOTHER friend from the department showed up. Luca is working in Sumatra (Indonesia). It was amazing. Everyone knows its possible...but this was the first time I was having a conversation between India, Siberia, Indonesia, and Argentina. Very, very cool. Especially since we've had these conversations in the past but we were always in New Brunswick.
So honestly in fieldwork....if you don't have to do fieldwork in your life, this may sound strange. But most of the conversations I've had with people about fieldwork have to do with methods. How do you conduct surveys, what number, in what languages, how do you do interviews, do you record everything, how often do you back up your data, etc. Technically, very important but much less interesting that all the other things that go on. I don't know why we often don't talk about the real issues of fieldwork. Issues like feeling like a total freak everyday. Walking around places where you clearly don't belong and being the center of attention every time you walk out of the house. I can't even take out the garbage without people asking me why I just don't have the house help do that. Or, better yet, just thrown it down the hill and let the villagers further down deal with it. Excellent. Even when you are invited to events, there is still that incredibly uncomfortable feeling of, "I probably shouldn't be here." I helped at the funeral of my research assistant's grandmother in May, and there are still people who won't talk to me because I wasn't "really" family. I helped serve the food to everyone that came and there were lots of people who wouldn't take it from me.
There are also the more personal issues. What about dating in the field? Do you do it, or not? This, of course, entirely depends on who you are, where you are, and if you are a woman or man. What about sexual harassment? How do you even define sexual harassment? Some are obvious (grabbing your girl bits as you walk in the market or grabbing their man bits as you walk by while making really nasty noises and gestures), some are not. What if someone follows you everywhere you go, always shows up where they know you will be, and calls people to find out your whereabouts when you don't show up in those places? Maybe, maybe not. What about when those times of showing up turn in to waiting outside an internet cafe while you type and then ducking into a stairway so (they think) you won't see them? What happens when your definition of harassment and their definition of harassment don't match up? How do you deal with that? What if it continues to explicit text messages and phone calls ending with "you know what I'll do if you don't call me." (I didn't actually know what that was, but I didn't want to find out).
There are also other things, things that are less sinister and disturbing. I often felt like I was living a parallel life, like I wasn't (or couldn't be) myself here. Censoring details about myself. Can a real friendship grow in these conditions? I've also had an underlying feeling like I just wasn't doing it RIGHT. Somehow fieldwork should be something and I wasn't meeting that standard. Or, worse yet, other people are somehow enjoying this in a way that I am incapable of while here. Or, even worse yet, I am not suited to the anthropologist lifestyle (*gasp*). Can it be true? I've spent most of the past 6 years wandering the earth. I didn't really enjoy it at least not enough to be at peace. Living out of a suitcase is difficult although I got pretty good at creating a home wherever I landed. This chance to live in one place for almost a year was really attractive. I haven't stayed in one place that long in 6 years (between Nepal, Indiana, New Jersey, Boston, and India) and I loved the idea of finally creating a real home. Well, problem. I have been going *crazy* having to stay in one place. I've actually rented a hotel in town when I couldn't leave just to get a change of scenery. This does not bode well for a future with a home and family. Maybe I just need more practice at domesticity. Who knows. But these are the thoughts that emerge with all this free time.
Part of my problem is that another anthropologist here is one of the most well adjusted and generally comfortable people I've known (yeah, Towns, I'm talking about you). It made my own insanity a little difficult to deal with when I had Mr. Cool around. But the four country conference with my friends made me feel better. We are all having our own problems and dealing with them (or not, as the case may be) the best way we can. More importantly, we can be honest in a way that only 5 years of graduate school together allows you to be. About silly things. Such as--I have hit the rice wall. I cannot eat rice. I've gone way beyond not eating rice. I can't even look at it. It actually makes me angry. Can you imagine? A grain of rice is NOTHING and it actually effects my emotional state. Not a good position for someone living in Riceland, aka India. You can find it on the road, little bits discarded or accidentally dropped when walking home from the market. It follows me everywhere. Like those damn cats with the perpetually moving hands at Chinese restaurants. Those of you who have eaten with me in New Brunswick know my private hell with these cats. You won't believe it but I saw one in Sikkim at a Chinese restaurant. Nearly coughed up my noodles. I had to order a beer (to the horror of my research assistant). The cat made me do it.
Fieldwork isn't a bad experience, and really I'm just talking about the not so nice bits (damn rice). I have met people who have redefined what kindness and hospitality means. I have seen acts of love that I wouldn't have noticed before but now astonish me. I just think the happy stories will entertain you when I come to visit. They are better than the bad ones and some are so good that you may even take me to dinner. Yes, do that. In case you all have forgotten, I love food. Especially sushi, chicken and dumplings, and those little rolled desert things you get at Greek restaurants. Cinnamon and dates I think. Either way, I promise to entertain for food.
I think I'll just end this post by saying the following. Emily, Drew, and Luca--thanks.
No comments:
Post a Comment