Barriers to communication off the beaten track exist just because ofwho you are: a
visitor from another civilisation. It is necessary to show the local people that
underneath the surface impression of strange clothes and foreign manners exists a
fellow human being.
The first step is to approach local inhabitants as if you are their guest. You are. It is
their country, their village, their hut, their lifestyle. You are a welcome, or perhaps
unwelcome, intruder into their familiar daily routine. Always be aware that they may
see very few faces other than those of their family or the other families in the
village. Their initial impression of you is likely to be one of unease and wariness.
Be reassuring. Move slowly.
If possible, learn a few words of local greeting and repeat them to everyone you meet
in the village. It is very important to keep smiling; carry an open face, even if you
feel exactly the opposite. Hold your body in a relaxed, non-aggressive manner.
In your first encounter, try to avoid anything that might anger them or make them shy
with their initial approaches to you. If they offer a hand, take it firmly, even if it is
encrusted with what you might consider filth. Don't hold back or
be distant, either in attitude or voice. On the other hand, coming on strong in an
effort to get something from a local person will only build unnecessary barriers to
communication.
Words and pictures
Begin with words. If you are asking for directions, repeat the name of the place
several times, but do not point in the direction you think it is, or suggest possible
directions by voice. Usually the local person, in an effort to please his visitor, will
nod helpfully in the direction in which you are pointing, or agree with you that, yes,
Namdrung is that way, "if you say so". It
may be in the opposite direction.
Merely say "Namdrung" and throw up your
hands in a gesture that indicates a total lack of knowledge. Most local people are
delighted to help someone who is genuinely in need, and, after a conference with
their friends, will come up with a solution to your problem. When they point, repeat
the name of the place several times more (varying the pronunciation) to check if it
is the same place you want to go. It is also a good idea to repeat this whole
procedure with someone else in another part of the village (and frequently along
the route) to check for consistency.
In most areas it is highly likely that none of the local people will speak any language
you are familiar with. Communicating with them then becomes a problem in
demonstration: you must show them what you want or perform your message.
If you are asking for information that is more difficult to express than simple
directions, use your hands to build a picture of what you need. Pictures, in the air,
on the sand, on a piece of paper, are sometimes your only means of
communication and, frequently, the clearest. Use these symbols when you receive
blank stares in answer to your questions. Use sound or objects that you have in
your possession that are similar, or of which you would like more.
Giving and getting
Not all of your contact with local people will be about getting something from them.
Don't forget that you have a unique opportunity to bring them
something from your own culture - try to make it something that
will enrich theirs. Show them what it looks like with the help of postcards and
magazines. Let them experience its tools. If you have a camera, let the local
people, especially the children, look through the viewfinder. Put on a telephoto lens
so they can get a new look at their own countryside. If you have a Polaroid
camera, photograph them and give them the print (a very popular offering, but be
careful, you might end up being asked to photograph all the villagers). And, most
important of all, become involved. Carry aspirin to cure headaches
- real or imagined. If someone in the village seems to need help,
say in lifting a log, offer a hand. Contribute yourself as an expression of your
culture.
If you want to take photographs, be patient. Don't bring out your
camera until you have established a sufficient rapport, and be as unobtrusive as
possible. If anyone objects, stop. A bribe for a photograph or payment for
information is justified only if the situation is unusual. A simple request for
directions is no reason for a gift. If the local people do something out of the
ordinary for you, reward them as you would a friend at home. The best gift you can
give them is your friendship and openness. They are not performers doing an act,
but ordinary people living out their lives in circumstances that seem strange to us.
I have found myself using gifts as a means of avoiding contact with remote people
- especially children - as a way of pacifying
them. I think it is better to enter and leave their lives with as much warmth as I can
give, and now I leave the sweets at home. If you are camped near a village, invite
some of the local people over to share your food, and try to have them sit among
your party.
On some of the more travelled routes, such as Morocco or the main trekking trails of
Nepal, the local children, being used to being given sweets by passing trekkers,
will swarm around for more. I suggest that you smile (always) and refuse them.
Show them pictures or your favourite juggling act, then give them something
creative, such as pencils.
If a local event is in progress, stand back, try to get into a shadow, and watch from a
distance. You will be seen and noticed, no matter what you do, but it helps to
minimise your presence. If you want to get closer, edge forward slowly, observing
the participants, especially the older people, for signs that you are not wanted. If
they frown, retire. Respect their attempts to keep their culture and its customs as
free as possible from outside influence.
Many people in remote places are still in an age before machines, and live their lives
close to the earth in a comfortable routine. Where you and I come from is
sophisticated, hard and alien to them. We must come into their lives as gently as
possible, and when we go, leave no trace.
Officialdom
In less remote areas where the local people have had more experience of travellers,
you must still observe the rule of patience, open-mindedness and respect for the
lifestyle of others. But you will encounter people with more preconceived notions
about foreigners - and most of those notions will be unfavourable.
In these circumstances - and indeed anywhere your safety or
comfort may depend on your approach - avoid seeming to put
any local person, especially a minor official, in the wrong. Appeal to his emotions,
enlist his magnanimous aid, save his face at all costs. Your own calmness can
calm others. If you are delayed or detained, try 'giving
up', reading a book, smiling. Should you be accused of some
minor misdemeanour, such as 'jumping' a
control point, far better to admit your 'mistake'
than to be accused of spying - though even this is fairly standard
practice in the Third World and shouldn't flap you unduly.
Wherever you go in the Third World, tones and pitches of voice will vary;
'personal distance' between people conversing
may be less than you are used to, attitudes and priorities will differ from your own.
Accept people as they are and you can hope that, with time and a gentle approach,
they will accept you also.
Language
When you have the opportunity of learning or using a smattering of the local
language, try to make things easier for yourself by asking questions that limit
answers to what you understand and prompt responses which will add helpfully
and manageably to your vocabulary. Make it clear to your listeners that your
command of the language is limited. Note down what you learn and try constantly
to build on what you know.
Always familiarise yourself with the cultural limitations that may restrict topics of
conversation or choice of conversation partner.
Keep your hands to yourself
Gestures can be a danger area. The British thumbs-up sign is an obscenity in some
countries, such as Sardinia and parts of the Middle East, where it means roughly
'sit on this' or 'up
yours'. In such places (and anywhere, if in doubt) hitch a ride by
waving limply with a flattened hand.
The ring sign made with thumb and forefinger is also obscene in Turkey and other
places. And in France it can mean 'zero', i.e.
worthless - the exact opposite of the meaning
'OK' or
'excellent' for which the British and Americans
use it.
By contrast, our own obscene insult gesture, the two-finger sign, is used
interchangeably in Italy with the Churchillian V-sign. Which way round you hold
your fingers makes no difference - it's still
understood as a friendly gesture meaning
'victory' or
'peace'.
In Greece, as the anthropologist Desmond Morris tells us, there is another problem to
do with the gesture called the moutza. In this, the hand is
raised flat, 'palm towards the victim and pushed towards him as if
about to thrust an invisible custard pie in his face'. To us it
means simply to 'go back', but to a Greek it is a
hideous insult. It dates from Byzantine times, when chained prisoners were
paraded through the streets and abused by having handfuls of filth from the gutter
picked up by onlookers and thrust into their faces. Though naturally the brutal
practice has long since ceased, the meaning of moutza
has not been forgotten.