Filed under: Uncategorized
Along with the Summer’s bear search. Entries on the following should appear soon.
- Riding and class in Mexico City
- More on Mexico’s mountains
Filed under: Uncategorized
Entries from the Summer/Autumn will be added ASAP including notably the bear finding trips in Canada.
Last night several of use were invited to become critics at a restaurant in San Angel.
The business is looking to expand into overseas markets, and as a foreigner here, my palette and tastes were judged to be ideal research for the restaurant.
An example of “outsider status” conferring privilege?
The evening started with sample margaritas and was quickly followed by salsa tasting. We tasted 18 different salsas, assessing them according to several different categories. It was an interesting experience being the subject rather than the interviewer. The format of the research consisted of a range of categories for us to assess on a closed numerical scale of 1-10. The categories included “colour”, “aroma”, “saltiness”, “sweetness”, “texture”,”spiciness” and “overall flavour”. We were also asked to rank each salsa within its designated category (“Herbs”, “Sweet and Sour” and “Spicy”) The questionnaires also included spaces for open ended comment on the salsas and suggested dishes.
There was a clear assumption from the Mexicans that we foreigners would find some of the salsas too spicy, yet even the hottest the “salsa diabla” fell well within the palettes of almost all of the tasters. Clearly the modern British palette is raised on curries, kebabs, and other hot dishes.
The Herb salsas were an interesting range, with the ajillo (chile and garlic) and dill and pistachio salsas standing out as particularly pleasant. The sweet and sour salsas disappointed most of us – too sweet, with few sour elements. There was a mango and coconut salsa that was very nice, but was too sweet to serve with a savoury dish. Most of us found the spicy salsas the nicest category that we sampled. As mentioned above, the hottest salsa on offer, the “salsa diabla” appealed to our love of hot food. There were also red and green moles (a kind of chocolate/chile blend) that were delicious, and some lovely smoky chile salsas such as the “adobada”.
Following this we then chose several salsa and designed food combinations to go with them. Some interesting experiments ensued (mango and shrimp?).
Overall, a thoroughly pleasant way to capitalise on the difference in culinary tastes and a chance to to be on the “other side” of the research process.
Filed under: Uncategorized
A formative event in my life?
The temptation when asked this is to pick something that corresponds to the self-constructed identity that I like to project. So, we can consider the occasion around the time of the Moss Side riots of 1981 when as a small child I stood and watched two policemen beating a homeless man in a shopping arcade, or passing the picket lines of the Miner’s Strike in 1984 or something along these lines.
Yet, fundamentally, this would be dishonest. Really, events like this changed little in my life.
A truer event, that avoids the posturing of the above suggestions, would be my trip to Lisbon in 1998. This trip really did alter the course of my life.
At the time, I was a penniless, angry art student living on the “mean streets of Moss Side”. My college organised an EU backed exchange with a design school in Lisbon.
I forget how I felt in the build-up. All I remember from that time is the difficulty I was having getting a passport. Fortunately, my tutor lent me the money for the fees, and eventually I was on a plane to Lisbon.
Almost immediately upon arrival, and I do remember this absolutely clearly, I felt a huge sense of relief. Enormous. The emotion of having a great pressure lifted from my shoulders was overwhelming. I cannot put my finger upon why this was the case, but it was one of the strongest emotions I have ever felt – utter, profound relief.
At one point, I expressed this physically through a little act of ritual. At the westernmost point of Europe I picked up a rock, gathered up all my anger, my stresses, my pain squeezed it into the rock and hurled it as far into the Atlantic as I could.
From that moment on I was decided. I was going back. I was going to leave the UK and move to Portugal. I wasn´t going to struggle anymore.
In 2001 I moved to Porto as an Erasmus scholar at the University there.
Prior to this however, I
…to be continued
Last weekend I visited the National Park of Izta-Popo , part of a climbing trip to the volcano of Iztaccihuatl. Izta, as it’s known, is a magnet for both local and international climbers for it’s ease of access from Mexico City, and the ability to reach high altitudes without too many technical obstacles.
Both volcanoes are visible from Mexico City, indeed I have a beautiful view of them (pollution permitting) from my workplace – as this photo I took demonstrates:
The volcanoes, and their snowcapped peaks have thus become icons of both Mexico City (and Mexico more generally) and have lent themselves to many paintings, murals and legends.
…to be continued
To undertake anthropological fieldwork in this place raises a number of questions regarding methodology and reflexivity.
Clearly, my fieldwork would be need to focussed – and if the focus included the climbing community upon the mountain, then participant observation becomes a natural tool to use. however, this would then imply a certain insider status. Although I am by no means an accomplished climber, my own enagagement with the mountain, and clothing, activities and interests there would place within the climbing community there, and thus in a sense raise issues of the anthropoplogy of the familiar. See for example here and here for discussions on this.
Would my insider status impinge upon effective questioning due to assumptions based upon familiarity?
Clearly, even if I were to reject formal, closed questioning and interview methods, one way to avoid such problems would be make a list of the questions that I would like to see answered, and then examine this in relation my familarity with the location and the subjects. Such a list need not be used as a subsitute for more open ended investigation, nor should it determine my methodology, but rather should act as a way of questioning muyself, and thus aiding the reflexive process.
In the case Iztaccihuatl these questions should include:
- What relationship(s) climbers have with mountain?
- Is there a spritual aspect to this?
- Is there an ecological aspect to this?
- Do different mountains have different meaning to them?
- What is their engagement with mountain based upon?
- Is there a social aspect to being on the mountain?
- In what way?
- Does this extend to strangers?
- What awareness is there of the indigenous significance of the mountain’
- How do climbers participate in the social and economic life of the mountain and the town of Amecameca?
- How often do they visit this mountain?
- Would they visit again?
- Why?
- Have they noticed ecological impacts upon the mountain e.g. amount of litter, graffitti etc.
- Has the glacier receded since they first visited?
Clearly this list is not exhaustive, but illustrates my own thought processes and the likely investigations I would make during participant observation. It would also help me to identify questions raised by my subjects that I myself had not considered, and enable me to ask why as part of my reflexivity.
My primary method of research on Izta would be participant observation. However, in order to achieve greater focus on the elements of the research that I am particularly interested in (such as those detailed in the list of questions above) some form of more formal questioning or interviewing would be helpful. Steering conversations held would be one of doing this – although the danger in this is that I might distract the subject away from what they are interested in saying about the mountain. Other options include asking people to fill in open-ended questionnaires at the Park’s visitor centre. This weekend the campaign to clear litter off the mountain held a stall there
, this would provide a good opportunity to engage people in discussion about environmental issues on the mountain. I could also start discussions on topics of interest on specialist websites (e.g. Summitpost’s “mexico forum”).
As always, a prime consideration ethically, is openness of my role as an anthropologist. In passing conversation, it may not always be easy to mention this fact without disrupting the dialogue. Yet, I should strive to be as open as possible about this.
Another ethical consideration relates to the “leave no trace” wilderness ethic. Inappropriate or poorly planned questionnaire research could lead to discarded questionnaire sheets littering the mountain. Perhaps, a minor concern – but a highly visible one.
With a subject such as Iztaccihuatl, there are clearly limits to familiarity. Nobody lives on the mountain. Even regular visitors such as myself will not gain the kind of familiarity that one could develop with a place of residence or routine. This was my first visit during the rainy season, and the mountain had a very different character than it does during the dry (and therefore climbing) season; as the following pictures should illustrate.
If, as an anthropologist, I consider the term “anthropology at home”, my first consideration should be where or what do I consider to be my home?
This is problematic.
Like Evans-Pritchard’s experience with the Nuer, my “home” varies depending upon my audience.
In practical terms my home is a suburb of Mexico City in the foothills of the mountains surrounding the Valle de Mexico. Or at least it has been for the past year, and will be for another couple of weeks. Outside of this precise time period this definition of home is completely wrong.
Mexico City (more generally) could also be called my home…for now. But it isn’t really.
Herein lies a problem. I have lived in 27 (about to be 28) different places in my life. How can any one of them merit the description “home” in any meaningful sense (beyond where I sleep at night at any given moment) ?
None of these places retain any strong family or friendship ties. In almost all cases I’ve never returned to them.
Maybe “home”, for me, should be defined as where I am from, what deep ecologists would call my bioregion.
Yet, this proves no easier. I’ve lived in 6 different nations. My own national identity is mixed, with 3 or 4 competing claims to that identity. Any accurate description of where i am from is meaningless, either through a strict literality than renders the definition useless fro reflexive purposes, or from over generalisation. I can locate myself as being from the EU, but what practical use does this have?
In reality, I have an almost nomadic plurality of homes. Yet in terms of reflecting upon my own position as an anthropologist in a given place, this offers no real help. Even the places which have the strongest claim to “home” lack the familiarity that is implied when talking about anthropology at home.
Perhaps, therefore “familiarity” is a more prudent starting point, for such reflection.
Yet, this term too is problematic.
I can immediately recognise several degrees or variants of familiarity that could be applied to possible research locations:
- mediated familiarity
- constructed familiarity
- assumed familiarity
- familiarity from direct experience
However, these terms may be clearer to define and delineate than the somewhat elusive notion of home disused above.
Futebol Rapido is an extremely popular variant of 5-a-side football played here in Mexico.
Over the three years in Mexico City I’ve played for two futebol rapido teams in three different leagues.
Most of the leagues we have played in have consisted of predominately working class teams. Kick Off times (that can start as late as 11.00pm reflect the late working hours and long commutes that many Mexico City workers face. Most of the teams we have played have either been based upon a specific locale, a barrio or neighbourhood, or have been workplace based teams.
My teams, Dynamo Tarango and Tetelpan Academicals are also workplace based teams consisting of people connected to the school where I work. As an international school many of our players are foreigners. Currently the Tetelpan squad has the following composition:
7 English
1 Welsh
1 Australian
1 Argentinian
1 Colombian
1 Swiss/Scottish/Mexican
3 Mexicans
It is clear when we take the pitch that we are foreign, and indeed that we occupy a more economically privileged position than most of the teams we have played against.
Talking to spectators and listening to the shouts from the crowd during games it is apparent that many people assume that we are Americans. This has resulted in some hostility at times. Games in the first league we played in, high in the mountains on the edge of Mexico City drew large crowds to abuse the “gringos”. Our poor initial results turned much of this hostility into good natured humour as the Mexican teams were able to easily beat us. However, as we acclimatised to the high altitude and the different rules/tactics of futebol rapido, our results improved and soon we were coming close to beating teams. Our first victory was an extremely bad tempered affair with abuse from the stands and fighting on the pitch. The referee was clearly biased against us and tried desperately to prevent our eventual win. This pattern continued for the rest of the season. Gradually there was less trouble on the pitch as opposing players came to realise that none of us were from the USA.
The first season with Tetelpan we played in a league down in the city itself, and experienced much less hostility than further out. There were less locale based teams here, and more workplace teams, perhaps resulting in less hostility to outsiders as all teams came from other parts of the city.
Our current league is again high up on the edge of the city, in an area where there are a large number of extremely wealthy gated communities mixed with poor working class communities and at least one shanty area. Our initial results were poor, but following our first victory last week, last night’s game followed the familiar pattern of referee intervention to deny us a win.
It would be interesting to compare our treatment, to that of the one team I know of in the league drawn from the wealthy part of the area, to see whether such antagonisms are class based or are partisan against perceived “outsiders”.
In Mexico, as elsewhere, football is a proxy for many social relationships.
Looking back, it seems worthwhile to consider my own position during the time in Police station.
As foreigners, we could be in the station with generally greater confidence. Overall, we are more protected against possible abuse from corrupt officers. Whilst there is the clear danger of being seen as a soft target for extracting bribes, these are less likely to be the routine for us. As people who are clearly not casual tourists, we are expected to have fairly powerful contacts in the City, and this I suspect gives us a more power in our relationship with the police.
The ordinary working class Mexicans who comprised the rest of the visitors to the station that night, are less likely to be regarded in this way, and thus are at more risk of being treated as inferiors or targets for everday minor corruption than we are. They are less likely to have influential contacts or access to lawyers and are thus more dependent upon the honesty of the officers they dealt with. Equally, as we are realtively wealthy here, small bribes/fines are less of an issue for us.
It is also worth reflecting upon our own confidence in the station. Theresa was visibly more nervous than me, and anxious to be truthfull and respectful to the police. Myself, I had far fewer qualms! Perhaps my own experiences at the hands of the police at home and abroad, gave me confidence that I could deal with any problems they might conjure up, and perhaps disabused me of the idea of holding the police on a pedestal.
However, for whatever reason, it is important to remember that although many of the stereotypes of the Mexican police were reinforced, the image of corruption was not present in our dealings with them.
Last night I spent a couple of hours in my local Police station here in Mexico City after our car was stolen.
The station was located in a working class district in the relatively wealthy South West of the city.
We entered the station through an unmarked door that we would not have seen unless our taxi driver had not pointed it out to us. Inside the station seemed abandoned the front desk was unmanned. Police motorcycles leaned against the wall unattended. Dull yellow light from bare bulbs lit the institutional palette of the places decor. a few neglected rubber plants sat in corners.
However, wandering further into the magnolia corridors we eventually bumped into a detective who took us to the duty officer in a busier part of the building. A Mexican family sat forlornly on a bench in one corner. Waiting for something. They were still waiting when later left. Bare wires hung from walls and ceiling. Palls of smoke and sound of heavy snoring hung behind the counters. Broken office furniture, a vending machine and an empty fire hydrant case completed the decoration.
Several TVs growled away in corners showing a football match. Upstairs a more senior officers room boasted a stained and dirty white leather armchair. One interview room had been turned into a shrine dedicated to the local saint.
Oddly, despite the high rate of armed attacks on the police by guerillas and narcotrafficantes, there was no security in the station. No CCTV, no control of entry to the station. Only one officer was armed. Most of the police there seemed to have an attitude of extreme disinterest towards people coming in and out of the building.
Nonetheless, our officer was friendly, though fatigued, and guided us through what was an extremely routine procedure here politely and efficiently. Worryingly amongst the questions on the photocopied form many were about armed assault, where the victim was expected to identify make and calibre of gun. This assumption of familiarity with firearms supports the story that 30% of Mexicans carry guns with them in their cars.
Whilst we were being processed, few people came and went. Some wandered in and out again with no obvious purpose, a couple of people came in and walked behind the desks to speak to individual officers and out again.
A woman’s handbag full of disposable razors and sanitary towel was emptied on one officers desk and then packed away again.
Two young men in tattered clothing came in and disappeared into an interview room.
Then it was all over. Lots of forms completed with identical information, and an instruction to return in a week’s time.
No.
Not exactly.
A blog lacks the “personality” of a journal. Typefaces never quite convey what handwritten script can. Whether a piece has been written in haste or at leisure, the force of the pen strokes, the smells and stains of physical paper are all missing from electronic media.
Yet a blog has certain advantages. Legibility for one. The ability to add hyperlinks, digital media such as photographs, video and audio files allow for a more holistic package of notes that in some ways increase the immediacy, the rawness of the notes.
Laptops and wireless meant that blogs can theoretically be maintained almost anywhere (though the journal still remains the most versatile media). Diagrams, sketches and handwritten notes can be scanned into digital images and embedded within the blog.
Notes can be organised, and searched more effectively thus giving the field notes a greater functionality. There is less danger of loss of notes. Cyberspace cannot (yet) fall into a river!
My intention is to use this blog in conjunction with a more traditional journal. Entries in the traditional format will be kept, but also transcribed as soon as possible into the blog.
In a sense the maintaining of a blog as an attempt at a journal is, in itself, an investigation. An investigation into the changing nature of information today. How we record, share and consume this information is changing, and we as anthropologists should keep a watching eye on how and why this is happening.
