Cross-cultural Constructs of Two Big Deals - and Writing them Down

When I assign critical thinking papers, or interpretive papers, my students tend to start with concepts that are too vast. They want to solve the mysteries of the universe in five to ten pages.

In my upcoming Intro to Cultural Anthropology class that I get to teach at UCLA this summer, I will hand out this fun, funny list of writing rules. Several authors each provide 10 rules that they have learned and earned from their own experiences and mentors. I don't think it applies to fiction only.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/feb/20/ten-rules-for-writing-fiction-part-one

The recently deceased William Saffire  provided rules too:

http://www.chem.gla.ac.uk/research/groups/protein/pert/safire.rules.html

and my masters degree mentor Christine Eber has a penchant for Orwellian writing rules:

http://www.writingclasses.com/InformationPages/index.php/PageID/300

I admit that my writing has many flaws. Maybe in this post I will attack too much at once. But then again, a primary suggestion is to write, and I can't stop, especially after my morning Peruvian coffee, which is currently making me twitch, and this freaking car alarm next door won't shut off, and I realize I can't live here after all, or if I do, it must be on a quieter street, lest I lose what's left of my mind. Which leads me to segue into what the actual topic of the post IS ... cross-cultural constructs of the aesthetics of interior spaces (initial thoughts, for that is the topic of my current research) and cross-cultural constructs of etiquette.

Today I will go on an interview with a favorite family, one I already know. The dad is a relatively high-ranking government official in the tourism industry (as I recall); the mom is a wedding planner. When my Peruvian brother Lalo first introduced us, the mom middle-management at a credit card company, which I believe is Chilean. I have been to the family's house. It's cute but small, and it's in the neighborhood of Ate.

Ate, by the way, is on the far east side of Lima and features many archaeological sites within its municipality.

http://www.muniate.gob.pe/zonas.htm

Anyway, I doubt these people will cancel. I've been chasing them like a bloodhound for nearly two years, reminding them, complimenting them. I have help. My Peruvian brother is on my side, helping me out, reminding them. They're tired of me.

In their defense, they are busy. Everyone here is busy. I get it. I am busy. The people I want to know are busy. I don't like lazy people. I like go-getters, always have. This is one of the points of my research - busyness.

In my defense, they are interested in and informed about my study, especially the dad. I went to his father's funeral (at least the one-month anniversary of his dad's funeral). He likes me, and I him, and let's just get this DONE.

So again, I doubt they will cancel. Which is good, because my assistants have set aside time to help me, and I have a chocolate cake for them, and I can't deal with these damned cancellations anymore. Which segues into the other topic: cross-cultural constructs of etiquette.

Is it a Peruvian/ Limeño construct of etiquette, or is it a construct of time? If this family cancels, it will be the third cancellation (one social, two professional) that I experience this week. I find this implicit policy to be quite disrespectful of my time. I have only 18 days left in this country and I need to interview a lot more families.

At least with the interviews, I know that I am asking a big favor - 2 hours of their precious time. But don't cancel. Don't make the appointment if you don't want to do it.

Then again, this is a cultural thing. They don't trust that I won't use their information (the interiors of their living space, their names, their data about income, their kids' names) for bad purposes. I get it! It's an occupational hazard that no one teaches fledgling anthropologists how to do. You learn, or you don't. Sink or swim, baby. But in Lima, I'm barely afloat. I maintain my dignity and I might have to come back.

I'm not trying to bitch. The goal here is to try to understand the origins of these ways of treating people who want something from you (?), foreigners (?), time in general (?). Some don't even call to cancel.

What is this about? I'm not even going to get into the social cancellations - they have an origin of their own - but the professionalism. We don't do that in L.A. We don't do that in the U.S. and I'm not saying we're "better" - I'm too much of a cultural relativist to go there. I'd be a huge hypocrite. I'm too much of a martyr to be a hypocrite. But maybe I'm naive. My friends who are, say, salespeople or who've been called upon for their services (especially my gringo friends, come to think of it) are equally disrespected - their clients are late or don't show up at all. It's not a city thing. It's a Peruvian thing. Is it a Latin thing?

Ideas? Feedback?

So I kept it small. I don't want to go into interiors now. My coffee is preventing my yoga and I have to get ready for my lunch so I can be on time. I'll just hold plank and breathe first.