Sam, in response to your question regarding why people do not open up: the government is authoritarian, censored, quite restrictive. I have worried that the censors might find my blog and shut it down; the Omani newspapers only give bad news about the rest of the world, not about Oman, everyone sings the praises of the Sultan. At least on the level of mainstream public discourse. There are definitely elements of society that question his legitimacy or would want to see another form of government, (for much of Oman’s history the interior part of the country was controlled by an Imamate, a Muslim religious leader, and ruled according to Sharia, or Muslim law. It’s true that most of the censorship is self-imposed, rather than forcibly coerced, but people know that they cannot go too far or they will be arrested. Yet Oman maintains a thick veneer of smiley bright squeaky cleanness, (before the major Hurricane it was second only to Singapore in cleanliness, and that is without the laws regarding gum chewing, etc.)
It is interesting because some of our lecturers do reveal more than would be advisable under normal circumstances; yet because we are all outsiders they apparently feel more comfortable with us. When we traveled in Salalah Elizabeth, our academic director pointed out that the tour companies always make sure to send more than one Omani with a group so that the presence of each keeps the other from talking too much. There is a strange sensation to the situation, because everyone seems so anxious about a leader/government which appears, on the surface, entirely benign and beloved. And the Sultan is genuinely beloved; people blame problems on his scheming ministers.
Other issues that cannot be ignored and that I am not sure I have emphasized: Oman’s economy is almost entirely dependent on oil, a resource that is expected to run out within the next 20 years, (although the oil industry claims that it will be able to maximize extraction capabilities and extend this life-span). Oman’s water sources are laready stretched to the limit, although in day to day life there appears to be no problem because of desalinization plants and the government’s promise to provide water for free to all citizens, (including Omani farmers who maintain date farms that they are no longer intersted in running, and so they hire expatriot laborers to care for the palms or the animals, using large amounts of water to maintain a traditional lifestyle that contributes little to the overall economy. Yet at the moment, maintaining cultural identity, especially in light of the lightning fast development of Oman’ economy and infrastructure, maintainging the Omani traditions has taken priority ove the future of water resources.)
The expatriots: like most Gulf countries, there is a huge population of non-citizens that fill the lower level jobs: almost every Omani household has a housemaid from the Philippines or Indonesia or India, (in that order of desirability, apparently), while all construction is carried out by men by from these countries, similar to the situation with Hispanic workers in the US. And similar to the US, people vent frustrations and racism on the foreign workers, although they do work that few others would want.
I posted this on SIT's website, www.typepad.com, where I am keeping a blog per SIT's request...and they removed it. Apparently they just want happy travel fluff. Oh well.
Thoughts? Comments?
Field Study Journal #18: Ethics of Tourism Discussion
Recorded 10.10.07
Context, Location: Mama Naila’s house, dining room
Time: 21:45, Tuesday, October 10
Individuals Involved: Annelle, K., Naila’s cousin, unmarried, mid 20’s
Coding:
@ 2. Religion
(2.1 Islam, 2.6 Christianity)
# 3. International Politics
(3.5 Tourism)
^ 6. Foreigner in Oman
(6.1 Outsider/Insider)
Note. For this entry I had to create the sub-category 3.5 Tourism under # International Politics, which I hereafter changed to # International Relations.
Description:
K. came in into the dining room where I was studying alone, typing a summary of my thoughts on the Omani national narrative as compared to other countries, in preparation for ISP. She sat at the table beside me; I offered her the reading we had done for the day on eco-tourism. I explained that the article criticized the effect of tourist spectatorship of so-called “authentic” populations, as well as the ecological and economic impact of the tourism industry in general. I asked what she thought of tourists going to villages in Africa in order to see “authentic village life”. She responded that it can be hard to go to another country where the customs are different. I asked her what she thought about the tourists taking pictures of the villagers as they go about their daily activities; she told me that when taking pictures one must ask permission, and told a story about seeing two Masai men in Kenya. She wanted to take a photograph and asked her friend, who told her to ask. The men told her she would have to pay, which she did. I told her that if someone wanted to watch me “go about my daily life” I would feel suspicious about their motives and demand to know what they wanted. She said that the important thing is to respect the customs of the culture you are visiting, and told me about visiting Burnei, a country near Malaysia I had never heard of. She said that visitors are informed on the plane about the codes of conduct; no finger-pointing, improper sitting, eating in front of anyone during Ramadhan, public interaction between unmarried members of the opposite sex, and drinking alcohol. She explained that in Oman there is alcohol in the hotels, and that some Omanis go there to drink; she told me “There are two kinds of Muslims--some people are good Muslims, some people are just born Muslim and they do not really believe. Just like some Christians are good Christians, others are just raised that way.” She told me that even she would go sometimes to dance at discos. She said that at work she does not cover her hair or wear abaya. She said that she knows that this is wrong and that she did not used to do these things, and that in the future she hopes that she will become better. My mother was ready to go, but before leaving K. re-emphasized the importance of following the local norms. She said that while she can wear what she likes in Muscat, in the interior with her father’s family that has “never been anywhere” she has to follow their customs.
Interpretation:
K.’s initial response probably came as a result of me not articulating myself very clearly; she probably interpreted what I was saying according to her understanding of me, that is, a “stranger in a strange land” dealing with the challenges of life abroad. When I tried to make the argument clearer by using photograpy as an example, I think she related personally to the experience of being a tourist eager for documentation. However I did not have the sense that she connected the violation of picture-taking with the larger implications of tourism upon local populations, therefore I continued asking questions. As we talked and it continued to seem as though she did not understand what I meant about the negative impacts of tourism’s consumption of “native culture”, I tried to find an explanation: I thought that perhaps the examples I used evoked different connotations for her. Yet possibly the guilt complex aroused by the rich oogling the poor as expressed by the article might only be understood by those that had experienced this guilt, i.e. me; perhaps for those who have not internalized it, the impulse to travel and see the world (that K. had expressed to me in the past), does not carry psychological baggage. Nor is K. on the receiving end, the “exploited native”, who might immediately identify with the objectification of performing daily life for foreigners. She is one of the tourists, yet from earlier conversations with her, I know she has close personal ties to Africa and the interior of Oman, both recipients of the touristic gaze. Would she therefore be exempt from either side of the equation, exploitation and guilt? Or is this naïvete potentially more harmful, comparable to Western anthropologists patronizing observation of “savages”. Yet despite today’s enforced political correctness, is the relationship to the “Other” any different? For example, the virtual extinction of “Orientalists” after Edward Said often represents simply a change of terminology.
I do not know which is worse, tourists gawking obliviously or tourists gawking guiltily; the question becomes only more complicated when the gawker is suddenly someone who is not necessarily “Other”, but who considers the gawking as recognizing cultural heritage and therefore an inalienable right. In the USA, we have actors parade in costume around colonial Williamsburg; here, some people wear “Omani dress” daily, others treat it as a product for consumption at the Eid holiday. Is this a “living tradition” or an symptom of capitalism? Probably both.
Evaluation:
I was glad that my computer screen had gone black (screen saver) as I think K. might have felt curious to see, and I felt more comfortable with her reading the article than having to potentially take responsibility for what I had written. I have spoken with her in the past about her travels and I know that she is sharp, will not tolerate b.s., and fairly worldly. Still, I felt a moment of hesitation before handing her the paper, as it had made me feel, in some ways, that my presence in Oman was damaging, damningly frivolous, or at the very least reflective of global inequalities often maintained along racial lines…and I did not want her to read it and feel differently about me. Looking back, this fear did not accord her basic respect as an adult who can come to her own conclusions; feeling that I have to maintain my presence in Oman by keeping others in the dark about the criticisms that it could evoke is hardly a mentality in which I want to exist. Yet the initial impulse to discretely remove my cluttered papers and begin small talk was there.
At first I felt awkward about essentially delegitimizing my own “tourist experience” in Oman, (despite its potential for increasing cultural understanding, yadayada, SIT could be easily construed as extended and immersive tourism), yet simultaneously quite interested in her thoughts; therefore frustrated at K.’s misinterpretation of what I was trying to say, which to me felt a bit condescending. (“I understand that it is hard for you here in this foreign culture; it is hard for everyone.”)
As the conversation shifted to K.’s stories about her travels I was glad to learn more about her; I had listened before to K. speak about jihad, the personal struggle for piety and proper conduct; I had thought of her as a fairly religious person and so felt surprised to learn that she does not cover her head at work.
Although I did not ever get a clear reading of her thoughts on the ethics of tourism, I wondered whether she had thought much about it. I struggled with this, as it seemed also to potentially patronize her, but to do so valorizes my own guilty soul-searching regarding my feelings on tourism over what I interpret as her less complicated understanding. It is likely that her relationship to the issue goes into far deeper territory than mine ever can, constrained as it is by the opposing forces of guilt and the knowledge that guilt will never stop me from traveling, although perhaps it will shape my choices as a traveler. Feeling righteous because I acknowledge the inequalities that allow for my status as a white person with the means to see the world does not change who I am or make such inequalities disappear. If I really felt so torn up about it, I would stay home.
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