A Shifting of Lenses.

Sometimes when I am in my room, I can hear a vehicle passing by on the street, blaring some sort of message in Arabic from a loud speaker. The first time this happened, I was fairly alarmed, thinking that perhaps it was a military vehicle or something along those lines. Considering my context, I felt safe to assume that this was something political (I mean, I am in Palestine after all). Then one day, I happened to be outside when the mysterious shouting vehicle drove by, and I was surprised at what I saw: a small pick-up truck full of what looked like random pieces of trash. Huh? Completely confused, I made a point to ask my friend what this was all about. She responded, "Oh, that? It's a guy going around collecting scrap metal or old appliances to make money." I looked at her and said, "Seriously? Wow, I never would have guessed."

Moral of the story [reader's digest version]: things in Palestine are almost never as they seem. Oftentimes my assumptions are wrong, confusion may ensue, and questions need to be asked with an open mind.

I am learning this lesson now, but I have a feeling I will need to keep re-learning it for some time to come. There are almost always things going on around me that I can't quite make sense of, and occasionally things that make utterly no sense at all. Living and studying here is like putting together a jigsaw puzzle, piece by piece. Sometimes there are mini "aha!" moments, but other times nothing seems to fit.   

When everything is new and overwhelming, it is natural to take shortcuts in our attempts towards understanding. It is easy to make over-generalizations about a whole people group or culture based on just a couple of interactions. It is also easy to allow our pre-conceived notions or ideas to shape the way we see things around us. It is simply human nature to look for what we expect (or want) to find--to try to fit our experiences with the unfamiliar into the narrative we are comfortable with or accustomed to. Unfortunately, this can have some pretty negative consequences.   

A lot of these thoughts actually relate to the reading for one of my classes today: the introduction to Edward Said's "Orientalism"--a foundational text for any post-colonial or Middle East studies student. The essential purpose of this work is to bring to light the long history of Western scholarship that has shaped perceptions of the so-called "Orient" (primarily the Middle East, India, and North Africa). Said shows that the Orient itself is a manmade conception that has been situated by imperial powers as fundamentally inferior to the West (namely European colonizers & more recently America). He argues that the power structure present here has undeniably influenced all realms of academic and cultural knowledge with vast social, political, and economic consequences. Thus, the misrepresentations and persistent Eurocentric prejudice found in Orientalism have had long-lasting effects on the relationship between the East and the West to this day. [The Wikipedia article on this text is actually pretty good if you want to learn a bit more].

I have read parts of this book before, but discussing it in a room full of Palestinian students brought a whole new dimension to the table. In this particular class, we are asked to come with a written question in response to the reading. The professor then looks through them and chooses a few to read out loud (anonymously) to determine the direction of the class. Today the question I wrote served as a provocative conversation-starter: "As an American studying the Middle East, what do I need to be aware of?" Obviously, my anonymity did not remain so for long... Cue face turning bright red as the professor asks me to explain my motives for asking this question, with all eyes turned towards me.

Here is the gist of what I said [and what I hope I can live up to as time goes by]: "Well, I asked this question because I want to be sensitive to my role in all of this. I recognize that my identity and context carries with it certain historical/political baggage that I may or may not be aware of. I have sensed a disparity in scholarship and I want to learn to privilege the right sources."

In other words, I hope to be aware of my lenses on this journey with the jigsaw pieces, laying down what I may expect or assume about this people and this place, in order to truly listen beyond what my ears are already attuned to. To do this takes a hefty dose of honesty and humility--a willingness to be wrong as I open myself to the perspective of someone else. This path ahead may not be easy or clear-cut, but I think it is worth the challenge.

View from my walk home, thinking about perspective