Authors: Irving Wallace
“Of course, you may wonder how scientifically valid our findings can be. Anthropology, I readily admit, is caught in the middle of the unending controversy between the sciences and the humanities. Scientists like to criticize us for being too slipshod in our field methods, and say we try to measure qualities that cannot be subjected to statistical analysis. Humanists, on the other hand, like to criticize us for usurping the province of the poet by our reducing the infinite complexity of human life to flat descriptive categories. I have always contended that we must remind both sides that we, and we alone, stand as the bridge that can join the sciences and humanities. It is true that our native informants are rarely completely reliable. It is true that while we can measure the width of a hut or a skull, we cannot measure a tribesman’s deepest feelings about love and hate. It is true that while we try to communicate our findings, while we sometimes absorb and move our audience, we perform poorly as troubadours because we are limited to passing on facts. Such are our limitations, yes, and yet, despite them, we must continue to hunt and seek scientifically, and to translate humanistically what we have discovered for the waiting world.
“Now, here we are—and you are asking yourselves, what is next? I will tell you. The investigators whom I have mentioned have taught us—and this is my own experience, too—that it is a bad policy to be aggressive or businesslike in a field study. Generally, it is less effective to call natives in by appointment, sit them down for three or four hours, and try to pump them dry. It is equally undesirable to go barging in on them blindly. If you do this, you might make an alliance with the wrong faction in the village and earn hostility and cut yourself off from the majority. The wisest approach is to learn the power structure of the community, and carefully select the most reliable informants. The best way to establish rapport is not to press. You kind of settle down in the middle of a society and wait, play a waiting game, rely on their natural curiosity and on your own instinct to tell you when it is right to make a move. The major problem is always finding the key informant, the one person who links past and present, who is articulate, who is honest, who will speak freely of his own world and wants to know what things are like in your world.
“In the matter of rapport, we are extremely lucky. We have our entree. Technically, we have been invited here. Last night, we were made a part of the society. We have not one key informant, but two to start with. We have Chief Paoti Wright, the head man, and a wise one, and we have Thomas Courtney, who has been here a fairly long time and knows their ways and our own. I will work with Paoti. I believe we will have an excellent interpersonal relationship. As for Air. Courtney, he has agreed to be available to all of you, to guide and assist you in your respective fields.
“Certain short cuts have been arranged for you, but most of the time you will be on your own. When there is a problem you cannot overcome alone, I would suggest you come to me with it or arrange to discuss it with Mr. Courtney. In a half-hour, Mr. Courtney will be here to start you off. He will introduce you to the village, to the places you want to see, to the activities you want to observe or participate in, to potential informants who know of you and may help you. Once you are introduced this way, you are independent and expected to make your own progress.
“Now to take you up one by one, starting with you, Harriet. Nurses are not standard personnel on a field team, but they have been known to come along, and have often proved very useful. I recall that when Robert Redfield went to the Yucatan to study the Mayan village of Chan Kom, he took a nurse along. The Mayans were unfriendly, but the nurse made friends through healing some of their sick, and the introduction of modern hygiene, and then the tribe was impressed and cooperative. You’ll find the Sirens has a good-sized but crude clinic or dispensary supervised by a young man named Vaiuri. You will be taken by Mr. Courtney to meet him today. There is an understanding that you will be permitted to assist this Vaiuri. While one of your functions here, Harriet, is to take care of us, your more important function will be to learn what you can of native illnesses and medical remedies and make copious notes of your findings. Also, if Vaiuri proves amenable, you can introduce new methods of treatment and sanitation, so long as you don’t jostle any of their beloved customs or step on any tabus.
“As for you, Rachel, I had a devil of a time trying to explain psychoanalysis to Paoti and Hutia. It made no sense to them. They thought it childish. But I think I convinced them that it was a special kind of magic that worked wonders with disturbed people. Anyway, while they don’t seem to have any true-blue psychopaths on this island, they do have their small minority of unhappy persons, of maladjusted ones. Hutia heads a board of five elder men and women called the Marriage Hierarchy. All marital complaints, pending applications for divorce, come to them. So she has the case histories that are acted upon every month. She agreed to let you select three patients from among a half-dozen or more current cases, and go ahead and do what you can for them with your own brand of cure. You will meet with Hutia today, interrogate some of the cases, make your choices, and proceed. Incidentally, Mr. Courtney will have a private hut for your consultations—it’ll be available this afternoon.
“Now you, Lisa, I made it known that you wished to study the primitive dance. I must say, Paoti was delighted, and you couldn’t have come at a better time. They are just beginning to rehearse their program for the annual festival. Dancing dominates the entertainment, so you’ll have a chance to witness, even participate in, the best they have to offer. The woman named Oviri is in charge, a sort of director, and you shall meet her shortly, and see what is possible.
“Orville, your situation is a little different, since your study of comparative sexual behavior enters all our areas. I imagine you’ll be doing fairly much what Cora DuBois did on the island of Alor in 1937—apply psychodynamic techniques to these villagers—I know DuBois employed the Rorschach successfully, and I suppose you will, too. We discussed your possible schedule, and it was decided that for the first day you would be oriented to the sexual customs of the community—I think you’ll see the Social Aid Hut today—and be introduced to a variety of the natives of both sexes. After that, you can attempt to establish some kind of rapport, and pick the informants most suitable, and question or test them, as you see fit.
“Next, the family Karpowicz. Well, it would be gratuitous of me, Sam, to tell an old hand like you anything. Mr. Courtney says you will have your darkroom, behind your hut, by the day after tomorrow. You may shoot your movies and stills, in and around the village, as you wish, no restrictions. When you go further afield—remember the incident at the beach—you must be accompanied by Mr. Courtney or Moreturi or someone they designate. As to your botanical work, you are free to roam anywhere.
“I’ve arranged nothing specific yet for you, Estelle. I assume you’ll be helping Sam out, as usual. If you want to go into other things, the workaday female life here, the cleaning, cooking, laundering, weaving, all that, it would be helpful to me. I think we can discuss that privately, and see how far you want to go. I did follow the suggestion you and Sam made about your young lady, and we have the green light … Don’t look so apprehensive, Mary. It’s a refreshing project; it’ll give you a great conversation piece when you return to Albuquerque. They have a rather primitive school-house—or school hut, series of huts—at the far part of the village, and there is one group of students from fourteen to sixteen. You may attend this class, if you care to—no pencils, no books, no blackboards, no homework, if that relieves you—all word of mouth and demonstration by an intelligent male instructor named Mr. Manao. I think you might find it a lark meeting Sirens youngsters of your own age, and, for six weeks, learning what they learn. The instructor will be expecting you to look in on them today, and, of course, I’d like a full report on your experiences. I promise to give you credit in my paper—and a lovely gift at Christmas.
“That brings me to my own family. Marc, I expect you’ll want to devote yourself largely to one informant, as I myself intend to do. Chief Paoti is expecting you this morning, and he may have some suggestions. You may start with one of his family or one of the marginal people in the village. And you, Claire, I’m hoping that you’ll assist me—in fact, I’m rather counting on it—and also act as sort of a liaison between me and Chief Paoti and Mr. Courtney.
“As I have told all of you, your participation will be unrestricted and freewheeling, within the boundaries of certain deep-rooted tabus. From my conversation with Chief Paoti, I know that the Social Aid Hut and the Sacred Hut are tabu and may be entered only with the express permission of Paoti himself. Visiting the two adjacent atolls—the ancient gods, still worshiped by the conservative, are supposed to dwell there—is tabu, unless you are accompanied by a villager. In some of the huts you will find dark-gray or black basalt idols, and touching or tampering with these is tabu. The kinship system—children belong to a broad kinship group consisting of parents, uncles, aunts, and so forth—this system prevails, and incest is a strong tabu. So is physical violence. You may be provoked beyond endurance, or ill-treated, but you never strike another or do him bodily harm. Instead, you take your grievance to the Chief. Killing, even in retribution or for punishment of a major crime, is considered barbaric. An ailing person is considered to be invaded by higher spirits who are judging him, and such a person is tabu to mortal hands, except those with mana, with high official privilege. All the ocean surrounding this place is held tabu to strangers. Therefore, entering or leaving the main island is not permitted, except with the consent of the Chief. There are probably a few minor tabus Paoti overlooked. When I learn them, I shall pass them on to all of you.
“While on the subject, I might add that anthropology has a few tabus of its own—restrictions, that is—on certain practices or behavior. These are not hard, fast rules, but represent a code gained from long experience. First off, never, never lie to them, about yourself or your own customs. If they find out you’ve lied, you will be rejected. When you realize you’ve made a misstatement, admit your error at once and clarify what you really meant. Don’t become angry if they tease or mock you, or laugh at you, for they may be testing you. Ride out such situations, and you will build rapport. If you find yourself blocked by one of their superstitions, don’t bully them or try to argue with them about their beliefs. Let the superstition stand, and skip that phase of your work. I recollect that on one field trip among the Andamanese, Adley tried to take pictures, and the natives were horrified, positive that the camera stole their souls. Well, Adley had to put aside his camera and forget photography. In dealing with these Sirens people, try not to be eccentric or stuffy or pompous. Condescension will get you nowhere. After all, who is to say if our way is superior to their own?
“As a general rule, I would advise sobriety. I don’t know your personal habits, but if you are fond of narcotics or drink, I would suggest you avoid it as much as possible in these next weeks. Of course, it is expected that you drink, if you can, with them, when they drink. But even then, you should not become intoxicated. Loss of control may make you appear ridiculous or offensive.
“Since we have seven females—myself included—in our group of ten, I think a brief digression on the role of the female in the field might be pertinent. You should all dress as you dress at home, comfortably and conservatively, If it becomes hotter, you need not wear undergarments—slips, brassieres, briefs—since the men on the Sirens have no avid curiosity about your private parts. As you have already seen, concealment hardly exists here and all are natural about their appearance. Most communities of this sort dislike pugnacious women, overwhelming women, humorless women. I would keep this in mind at all times.
“Now we come to a delicate subject, one which frequently concerns women in the field. I refer to cohabiting with the natives. We’ve been set down in a society where sexual activity is casual and fluid. There is a minority school of anthropology that believes you should welcome rather than avoid romantic entanglements. Certainly, cohabitation with a native can be easy, simple, unobjectionable. The native population may not look down on you for it, in fact may be rather pleased. Despite the possibility that such an affair may give you knowledge as well as pleasure, I must point out the drawbacks. If your affair is secret, then the fact of it will inhibit your scientific writings. You will be unable to report the truth. If your affair puts you in competition with a native woman, you may cut yourself off from the rest of the community. There is yet another problem. I will illustrate it with an example. Years ago, when Adley and I were in Africa, we had with us three graduate students, two males and one female. The female became quite attracted to one young colored native, and she cohabited with him. She did so openly. The other colored tribesmen were delighted. She was behaving as their women did, and moreover, because she was a white visitor with power and prestige, they regarded her affair as the height of democratic practice. The problem here was not that she upset the natives—she was conforming with their way—but that she upset the male members of our team. They were disturbed by her action, and resented her, and innumerable political difficulties in our own group resulted.
“So let me say this final word about cohabitation—and I address all but Mary. You know the profits, you know the pitfalls. I cannot guide you further. I am not one, you will find, who would call any such conduct scandalous—that is for laymen—for, to me labeling anything like this as scandalous is a value judgment, and I cannot and will not make one. You look into your hearts, into your consciences, and perform as you think right.
“While I am discussing our behavior, there is an area where I wish my moral judgment to prevail. I want each of you to pledge, to yourself, to me, that you will not plot to alter any aspect of this society for selfish purposes. In the pioneer days of anthropology, there were certain individuals—the German ethnologist, Otto Finsch, who was in the South Seas off and on between 1879 and 1884, was one of these—who disrupted tribes with their offensive, unwanted Don Juanism. There were similar individuals, in times past, who made natives drunk on Western whiskey to goad them into recreating old orgiastic and erotic practices. I will not permit friendly natives to be seduced by offensive love-making or alcohol to satisfy our needs for research. A few years ago, Harvard University sent a team into the Baliem Valley of Dutch New Guinea to study primitive activity. According to missionaries, this team, eager to obtain motion pictures of every phase of native life, fomented a local war in which lives were lost in the interests of research. I have no idea if this really happened, if it is true, but it was widely publicized, and I want no such accusations made of a team led by Dr. Maud Hayden.