Same-Same, but Different: A Venn Diagram

The Thai phrase “same-same, but different” is a charming and confusing way that Thai people blow off really substantial differences between two things.  Two quintessentially Thai examples of same-same are:

1)   “Ladyboys.”  When inquiring whether a prostitute is a woman when in fact he is a man dressed as a woman, a patron might be told “same-same, but different.”

2)   Designer knock-offs, fake gems, bootlegged media.  “Is this a real Fendi wallet?”  “Same-same, but different.”

And now, a same-same, but different analysis of the traditional Thai massage:

Dubai-Dubai-Doo

تحية من دبي!  Dubai is, indeed, the Las Vegas of the Middle East.  This means that there are more neon lights than grains of sand, and even though liquor is not legal outside of hotels, it flows to feed a never-ending party.  The key difference is in women’s dress: all Emirati women wear the abaya- the long, black covering that minimizes one to hands, feet, and eyes.  Emirati women are very wealthy and stylish, though.  As one American man at the airport felt the need to share with me, “the women here cover up everything with those stupid black gowns, but then they put on their stripper heels anyway!”  I say if sassy shoes are the only way you’re allowed to accessorize in public, sass onward.

The emirate of Dubai has managed to spend money on the most wasteful and garish of projects.  It is home to the man-made palm tree-shaped island chain and the sailboat-shaped skyscraper.  They like things that have shapes.  It’s as if a four-year-old with a lot of money dreamed up all of the development plans.  It is also home to everyone except actual Emiratis, who make up a tiny proportion of the population, but control all of the political, social, and actual capital.  If it would make you feel good to know that you and all of your friends drive Ferraris or Bentleys, you may fit in well here. 

On the upside, there are lots of figs and pistachios to go around.  And lots of Indian food.  Because everyone who lives here is from India.  Their passports are often kept by their employers, making them essentially modern-day slaves without the rights to free movement or even resignation from their jobs.  Oops, back to the downsides!  Other rumors of slavery center around children who are sold by their families to- wait for it- ride as jockeys in camel races.  Yup.  The lucrative camel gambling business demands the tiniest of riders for success, so why not sell your smallest people for a few extra bucks in your pocket?!  Unrestrained free markets are great!

One really nice thing about Dubai is that it’s super safe.  You can walk down a dark alley at night waving cash around and no one will touch you.  How do they achieve such remarkable public safety, you ask?  Well, they dole out justice old-school style.  Steal money?  Wave goodbye, one last time, to your hands.

Dubai is a balmy 9 zillion degrees in July.  Plenty of humidity to suffocate everyone.

To compensate, cabs are kept at a refreshing 40 degrees.  Women are pressured to take the pink “Ladies’ Taxi,” which is meant for women traveling with women, women traveling with men, and women traveling with children.  The pink-clad female driver told me during one ladies’ taxi ride that any woman who takes the regular taxi is trying to ruin the family of the male driver.  Mmmkay.  Afghan drivers solved this problem by removing the rearview mirrors instead of creating an entirely segregated transportation system.  Let’s not split hairs about the solution.  Either way, I really just wish women would stop trying to get men so ruffled all the time!  Just by, like, being alive and going places and whatnot.  Jeez.

Speaking of women, I was the only one everywhere I went.  Of course, nothing prompts a good stare quite like being the only of something.  When I asked the server at an Indian restaurant if it was okay for me to be there, he said ‘oh, it’s just too hot out for ladies right now.  They might come to eat dinner later.”  This man also pressured me to eat the aluminum foil attached to an almond paste dessert, which he called “silver” and claimed was really good for my health.  I used my iphone to check and see whether I’d be at risk of dying if I ate it, and my iphone said, “you are eating at a hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant where food costs fifty cents in a country that is 9 zillion degrees.  March on with your zany food safety adventures and eat the foil!”

Speaking again of women, I visited a mosque and attended a talk about Islam for non-Muslims.  Non-Muslims are not typically allowed into Mosques, so this was a special opportunity to see what interesting things were happening in Mosque-ville.  The tour and talk were given by a British expat who snagged herself a nice Emirati man and converted in her 20’s.  She delivered her “Islam for Dummies” lecture and addressed ignorant questions from the crowd, many of whom seriously showed up wearing shorts and tank tops.  (The information about the visit clearly stated that headscarves were required.  Did those Canadian girls in the short, strapless sundresses seriously think they were appropriately dressed for a Muslim country, much less a mosque??!  Strapless dress + headscarf = perfectly modest ensemble??  I enjoyed watching a man unflappably hand them their abayas and headscarves.  If I lost 19 pounds sweating in my long-sleeved shirts and long pants, they deserved to suffer, too).

Anyway, the talk was quite interesting, and informative, save the bizarrely weak explanation of how generous it is for men to take multiple wives, those lucky ducks.

When in Rome...

Do as the Romans do.  Everyone invokes this idiom when unusual situations arise in a culture other than one's own.  Drive on the left?  When in Rome!  Take my shoes off before going inside?  When in Rome?  A bidet?  Uh, what?  Well, okay, whatever, when in Rome!  If you think about it, it does make more sense than toilet paper.  Anyway ... Sacrifice a dog to commemorate Tuesday afternoons?  SCREEEEECH.  Nope.

When the figurative Romans cross over from doing/believing "whatever" things to "definitely not okay with me" things, I think about where the balancing point of cultural relativism and universal rights lies.  I teach about this subject in my introductory sociology class and spend quite a lot of time guiding students to figure out where they think that point is.  Many recent news examples, such as the effort to ban hijabs in France and the ban and Merkel's subsequent protection of circumcision in Germany, provide opportunities to define our "whatevers" and our "definitely not okays."

As as happened countless times before, I was recently in the company of individuals having a conversation about how rude it is to be a vegetarian in a culture that routinely eats meat.  (Let's not even dig into the presumption that it's widely accepted to decline meat in our culture!  Walk a mile, meat eaters...)  Despite my excitement to dine in Afghanistan, rooted in my love for The Helmand and Maiwand Kebab back home, eating vegan in Afghanistan was a bit challenging- not because Afghan people eat meat all the time, but because my midwestern aggie hosts were pretty certain I couldn't eat anything but rice.  I get that people have questions about what constitutes a vegan diet, but does it take more than several emails and conversations and a dozen declined offers of yogurt and ice cream to get the major tenets down?

Anyway, I dissect the perspective that declining to eat meat while abroad is offensive every time I hear it.  I fact, I'm stewing over it almost a week later.  And every time, I come away thinking that perhaps those who hold that perspective simply haven't bothered to apply their own logic for other circumstances.  Even though it wouldn't be considered rude for a non-drinker to decline a drink in the company of drinkers, it would be considered very rude for a group of drinkers to expect a non-drinker to drink.  (Anyone pressed their friends in recovery or religious abstainers to just do as the romans do lately?  Of course not!  Or, if you have, you are the one who sucks.)  This is a perfect analogy.

Similarly, there are cultural practices around the world that violate major moral tenets by which civilized societies should live.  Virtually no one responded to the Taliban's denial of education for girls by saying, "when in Rome!"  Few people think that female circumcision or child sex abuse are totally justifiable rites of passage, even for cultures that view the practices are normative.  (Why male circumcision is routine and unquestioned, I suppose, is for another day).  In the U.S., we don't allow religious or cultural exemptions for failing to provide basic care for your children, perpetrating violence against others, or treating others fairly.  We don't, by any means, have perfect systems ensuring perfect equality, but the principles are present and exist to provide a basic level of human rights to everyone.

Food isn't just a cultural universal, but it reveals aspects of our morality as well. The creation and consumption of food reflects yet another system of subjects and objects, oppressor and oppressed, fulfilled and exploited. Animals around the world live in deplorable conditions. Even if the exceedingly cruel system of factory farming isn't found in the developing world, Ugandan cows and Afghan goats and Chinese dogs aren't pooping out rainbows of excitement to live and die the way they do. So when in Rome, and the Romans are denying basic rights or exacting cruelty to others, do as you do instead.

So, I went to Afghanistan...

سلام از کابل. I'm working with a team from University of Maryland to build Extension educators' capacity to teach gardening and nutrition to women in Kabul. Members of my team have been before, but this was my first trip. I thought I'd share some thoughts about my experience. And, that's all they are: some thoughts about my experience that helped me understand what I'd heard on the news a bit differently.

Afghanistan earns many, but not all of the platitudes people use to describe it. First, the benign. Before I left, I heard many people call it the sandbox. It is sandy, dusty, and dry. It needs lotion. Check. Good job, y'all.

Next, the tragic. This part could be miles long, so here are the lowlights. Due largely to its location, Afghanistan has been center stage for succedent regional and global power grabs and proxy wars. As a result of 30+ years of not-so-neighborly interference, Afghanistan is ranked 172 out of 189 countries on the human development index, eking ahead of other global catastrophes like the DR Congo, Sierra Leone, Liberia, and Zimbabwe. And, of course, there's all the killing. The real quagmire is that Pakistan's government has a significant upper hand in its relationship with "major ally" U.S., as every time the U.S. even quietly points out that the ISI is funding and providing foreign fighters and suicide bombers for the insurgency, Pakistan chokes off the NATO (and Afghan people's) supply routes.

It's the worst place in the world to be a woman. While Taliban rule was brief, the regime transformed Afghanistan into a society that denied education, work, health care, and freedom of movement to women and girls, shrouding half of the human potential in the population in these dehumanizing gems:

Yup, that's me.  Of course, it could be anyone, and that's the point, but it's me.

For context, several people in Kabul told me that women wore miniskirts in the 1970's. Even a decade after the U.S. removed the Taliban from power, strong, albeit relatively new cultural mores about women's role in society enable the acceptance of honor killings for suspicion of shameful acts like running away from home to escape violence or being alone with a boy. A video of one such killing surfaced while I was there, showing the public execution of a woman accused of adultery to the cheers of men in the community. Rumor has it the men were both killed, too, after the video brought unwanted attention (known to us as international outrage) to the community. Afghanistan's Independent Human Rights Commission estimates that a dozen or so such killings have happened every month this year.

Afghanistan has the highest rates of infant (12.16%) and maternal mortality (1.4% of live birth events) in the world. One in ten children do not make it to their fifth birthdays. Life expectancy is under 50 years of age. Education access and quality undermines individuals' basic participation in society, particularly for the 80-90% of women who are illiterate. Violence is widespread and continues to disrupt development in nearly every part of the country. A more private form of violence persists with child marriages (for girls) and child sex abuse (for boys). As the NATO troop withdrawal nears, Afghans' fears and despair about the government's ability to provide security grow.  With or without NATO, a perverse societal perspective on justice is preventing Afghanistan from becoming fair and free.

Finally, the promising.

I met many wonderful individuals - men and women- during the last week. They have aspirations for a peaceful and free Afghanistan. The women we trained at our three-day workshop were bright, hopeful, curious, and strong. While they loved that we tried to dress like locals to fit in, they recognize that we simply live in different cultures without demonizing our way of life. When they found out that I was about to travel to other countries without my father, they were surprised ... but I let them know that about 80% of the people in my own circles were also surprised that I would be traveling alone. Of course, my American friends never expected my dad to accompany me, but the sentiment that women shouldn't travel alone isn't unique to Afghanistan...

Many aspects of life are improving: mortality, immunization, school enrollment, and so on. Women are working. For the generation of girls who missed out on formal education and for the abjectly poor, many foreign aid programs are providing training for them to enter health, education, agriculture, and other fields.

This woman walks to her community garden plot every day to grow vegetables for food and for sale. She receives technical support from female Extension educators who trained in the agriculture program at Kabul University.  That's the repeatedly bombed out shell of Darluman Palace, the former presidential home, in the background.  The farm looks thirsty, no?

This art gallery provides space and support for women artists in Kabul. Exhibitions portraying Kabul women's artistic perspectives are shared around the world. Many of the paintings depict haunting violence and oppression, while some feature more lighthearted Pollock-esque splatter.

Before I left for my trip, I heard a friend of a friend say, "in my opinion, we should pull the two or three good people out of that country and blow up the rest." While I wouldn't recommend travel to Afghanistan for first-hand confirmation (yet), I would say that my trip there confirmed for me what all travel should confirm for others: We all have the same banal but transcendental aspirations for the lives we build and the people we build them with. No matter how well our emphasis of dissimilarities facilitates our objectification and dehumanization of each other, hijab to Gaga, we simply aren't all that different.