On cultural objectivity

My recent internship with International Crisis Group gave me a fascinating taste of a conflicted world where culture plays a major role. It reinforced a concept I learned in my Masters course called “Culture, Conflict & Reconciliation”. It’s a fairly simple concept yet can be so easy to forget and so difficult to implement.

When we encounter another culture in our life, we must realise that we do so within our own cultural frame. In theory, most people would agree that we have cultural bias. In practice, however, most people, including myself, seem to confuse cultural objectivity with subjectivity. (Is there even such a thing as cultural objectivity?)

So, a stereotypical example: in Chechnya at the moment, there is a strong push towards traditional Sufi Islam. This includes women having to cover their head (with a hijab or headscarf) and dress modestly. Islam is also against alcohol and some shops selling it in the NC have been attacked. A Dagestani couchsurfer advised other couchsurfers to hide piercings, tattoos and generally dress conservatively to avoid trouble. There is another cultural aspect of the NC that had a profound impact on me. The concept of honour is deeply placed in NC cultures, manifesting in traditions like blood feuding, honour killings etc. I have heard of girls, who have been raped, being killed by their family to restore the family’s honour. This can also apply to people who come out as homosexual. A girl who has been ‘bride-napped’ is ‘marred’ and is unlikely to be wanted by others should the shaky marriage not work out. Disrespect in ‘The West’ can be part of day-to-day jokes but its consequences in the NC can be extremely violent. This is, of course, a generalisation but it will help me make my point.

There is another popular and less extreme example from Saudia Arabia now where women are forbidden to drive cars. Now, it’s easy for me to immediately think that this is all wrong. Women should not be forced to do or not to do anything, people should be allowed to drink booze, if they abuse it that’s their problem (although it most often spreads to others) etc.

Now I make these conclusions based on my own culture, values and upbringing. When I judge these sometimes shocking cultural norms I am putting myself into that alien culture and reacting how I would react with all my own cultural influences. I am not evaluating the situation from the point of view of someone within that culture and analysing the situation from within their cultural frame.

How can you put yourself in someone’s cultural shoes? I don’t think it’s rocket science. You must first open up to the culture without judgment. You must communicate with people and, most importantly, listen. You must never try to argue with them or try to expose what you see as flaws with leading questions. If anything, you should ask open questions.

At the same time, I’m not trying to defend any particular culture or criticise my own. Although I do support the critique of the ‘civilised West’ trying to bring progress to ‘uncivilised cultures’. We could benefit greatly by questioning whether our own culture has everything ‘right’, we could learn to live in much better balance with nature the way many aboriginal cultures did, we could be more inquisitive before we storm in to make someone’s life ‘better’.

On Russia

On Russia

Many people ask me incredulously why the hell I would want to leave the beautiful beaches, relaxed lifestyle and nice weather of Australia and come to Russia. Many of these people would jump at any opportunity to get out and many already have escaped successfully to start a new life overseas. So why do I keep coming back here? I can give 9 reasons:

1. Roots.

I was born in and spent my first 10 years in Moscow. Those are formative years that stay with you for the rest of your life and it’s enough time to form life-long memories. So it should not be a surprise when I say that it still feels like home. What exactly does that mean, you might say? Well, for me, it’s a feeling that whatever crazy, uncomfortable, shocking, sad, outrageous and difficult experience I encounter here, it doesn’t bother me much. On the contrary, it reminds me of the typical Russian stoicism, perseverance, creativity and humour, qualities that have evolved from the historically shitty conditions in the Motherland and that so many Russians, including myself, hold dearly.

I have to admit that I am somewhat patriotic when it comes to my homeland. Not, of course, to the point of joining the abusive military but enough that I actually would love to see a gradual end to whatever evil virus has infected the people, a return of camaraderie, a respect for intelligence and effort and an economy that’s not solely based on selling off natural resources. Russia could play an excellent role in a regional union (economically and culturally) that is not based on oppression but rather on symbiosis. Instead, any movement towards more aggression, xenophobia, inequality and waste saddens me. I don’t want to be lying on a sunny beach on the other side of the world if I have an opportunity to contribute to some positive change.

Aforementioned people might say “You will change nothing so don’t waste your time”. I disagree. With a system as complex as a major world country, nobody can conclusively know whether things could change or not. Idealistic or cynical opinions are just that. My approach is more pragmatic: I can evaluate and constantly re-assess the effect of my involvement in anything in Russia. I will be part of a complex system that changes based on the interactions of millions of people. If I see that all hope is lost, I can always go back to the beach.

2. Grandma.

My 85 year old grandmother lives in Moscow, alone. When I was little, my parents used to offload me into her care and I spent many amazing summer school holidays with her at her dacha (country-house). I also often lived at her place and remember her having a very positive influence on me. It means a lot to her for me to now visit so if I have such opportunities, I can at least give something back to her.

3. Fascination.

Russian history and culture are fascinating. Russia is a fucking huge country (seriously, have a closer look at how many cities, towns and villages there are spread across a ridiculous area) and I’ve only just begun exploring it. There’s so much more to it than Moscow too. Furthermore, my childhood association is with the USSR, which included all the republics, many of which are now independent but have influenced ‘Russian’ culture. One of my favourite dishes – Plov – is from Uzbekistan. I holidayed in the Ukraine when I was little. I’ve been to Lithuania. I’ve been influenced by the Georgian culture. There’s so much about the Caucasus that fascinates me now. The mix of Buddhism and shamanism in Buryatia is mind-blowing. Lake Baikal is an unbelievable natural wonder. I could go on and on. There is so much in this part of the world you will never be bored.

4. Women.

I won’t mention the stereotype that Russian women are hot and care more than ‘usual’ about their appearance. What I like is that you can meet such a mix of backgrounds, cultures and personalities here – Russians, Ukrainians, Belarus, Dagestani, Chechen, Ingush, Buryat, Uzbek, Kyrgyz and so on. The strange shortage of men who are not alcoholics is also a bonus for a single guy.

5. Language.

Russian is a rich and nuanced language. It has more depth than English (IMHO) and it’s a pleasure to constantly add to both my cultured and crass repertoire.

6. Zen.

Whether it’s my personality or conflict resolution experience or (most likely) both, I think I’ve figured out a way not to gradually start hating the place. I think that one reason so many people are miserable here is because they feed off the negativity, multiply their own and then spread it freely like an STD (socially transmitted disease). If someone is rude to you or makes your life difficult, it’s easy to snap back at them or, worse, to stew all day and then blow up at other innocents. The negativity spreads like the flu but, if you train your awareness and willpower, it’s possible to diffuse it. Treat people with understanding, respect and maybe even humour and watch them thaw out (at worst, just walk away).

Not everyone will suddenly become your best friend, but you’ll often notice a sudden change in the dynamic and hints of the friendly Russian spirit that, as I’ve discovered, still lives in many people here. Unfortunately, Moscow’s hectic pace can easily irritate people and  set off the above downward spiral. The sense of competitiveness is anathema to the Australian ‘laid-back’ life that I am used to and, I suspect, is some kind of evil mutant baby of old communism and new capitalism.

7. Personal growth.

Related to the above point, I think it’s much more useful for me to live in a challenging social environment than to live in a relaxed, laid-back Sydney, Australia where, granted, there are problems but they are on a different scale compared to Moscow. As long as I keep track of what is influencing my personality, I can become more assertive, better at making decisions and solving problems, deal better with stress and nurture my sanity with humour. I’ve noticed that many people here aren’t phased by difficulties. You don’t whinge, complain and hire someone to do it for you. You just do whatever needs to be done.

8. Limited dealing with officials.

Admittedly, I haven’t had to deal much with officials. This seems to be the bane of the Russian lifestyle because of the usual nightmarish tangle of bureaucracy, corruption and inefficiency. Perhaps this is something that may put me off living here long-term but there are two counter-points. Firstly, if I can learn to deal with the Russian bureaucracy, most Western processes will be a piece of cake. Secondly, there is a benefit to the Russian bureaucracy. When things are often black and white or by the book in many countries, there is always a way to work something out here. I’m not advocating corruption if it harms someone but if it’s to circumvent a dysfunctional system, to get sold out tickets to your favourite event or to get inside a nightclub having failed ‘face control’ then Russia has its advantages.

9. Freedom.

Most importantly, I can always leave. This is a very important yet not so obvious difference between the locals and me. I have the constant reassurance that if some negative threshold were reached I am always free to go back to the wonderful Western civilisation. Ironically, I’m currently facing the challenge of trying to revive my Russian citizenship so that I could come here without getting a visa every time. I guess I could always work something out.