I have stumbled upon a late-night screening of "Rick Steves' Iran" on OPB. Watching cultural perception be remade is fascinating. Not to mention amusing: A jovial, unabashedly touristy white gentleman in khakis and button down shirts strolling through the alleys of an intricate red-stone village in the Iranian countryside. Up with the times, he points his SLR at himself and young Iranians he chats with; men about being Iranian, women about being women in Iran. He talks tentatively with a young woman about religion and politics and their mixing. The girl disapproves, which he seems to approve.
He seems interested in establishing a separation between Iran's people and its politics. He gets quotes to support that. He represents culture, history, heritage, modernity, Islam, politics, architecture, infrastructure, and other compositional elements of a nation in ostensible balance. He acknowledges the widespread "resentment" of foreign interference and influence. Still, I feel unsettled.
His intentions certainly seem good. During a soliciting/promotional break, he utters the following:
"I just wanted to humanize the place."
"They don't want their kids to become Britney Spears; I tell them I don't either! They're afraid that their kids will be turned into little sex toys and drug dealers and materialists."
"I just believe you have to KNOW people before you bomb them."
And still, I feel unsettled.
Perhaps it's the curious accent westerners get when they travel to exotic lands and attempt to converse in their language with natives who they fear aren't fluent. Or perhaps it is the fact that, no matter how good the intention, an attempt to demystify always turns into a bid to defang. From scary other to cozy ethnicity (Thanks, Assia Djebar).
All of this sudden attention is not surprising, considering America is finally considering holding hands with Iran. It may help to know they have a "modern sensibility and seem well-educated" and that they love America. That they wear designer sunglasses, and travel by subway. That under their chadors, beneath the many, superficial (and therefore irrelevant) layers of political tension, civilizational conflict and cultural differences lies the fabled universal humanity which will inevitably transcend and reconcile everything else. That 'they' aren't really that different from 'us' after all. That they ultimately want the same things.
So there he is, the translator-traveler-envoy of the West, on a reconnaissance mission, dealing in similarities and differences, positing understanding as the flipside of fear. Engaging in what is undoubtably a noble and increasingly necessary endeavour.
And still, I feel unsettled.
He seems interested in establishing a separation between Iran's people and its politics. He gets quotes to support that. He represents culture, history, heritage, modernity, Islam, politics, architecture, infrastructure, and other compositional elements of a nation in ostensible balance. He acknowledges the widespread "resentment" of foreign interference and influence. Still, I feel unsettled.
His intentions certainly seem good. During a soliciting/promotional break, he utters the following:
"I just wanted to humanize the place."
"They don't want their kids to become Britney Spears; I tell them I don't either! They're afraid that their kids will be turned into little sex toys and drug dealers and materialists."
"I just believe you have to KNOW people before you bomb them."
And still, I feel unsettled.
Perhaps it's the curious accent westerners get when they travel to exotic lands and attempt to converse in their language with natives who they fear aren't fluent. Or perhaps it is the fact that, no matter how good the intention, an attempt to demystify always turns into a bid to defang. From scary other to cozy ethnicity (Thanks, Assia Djebar).
All of this sudden attention is not surprising, considering America is finally considering holding hands with Iran. It may help to know they have a "modern sensibility and seem well-educated" and that they love America. That they wear designer sunglasses, and travel by subway. That under their chadors, beneath the many, superficial (and therefore irrelevant) layers of political tension, civilizational conflict and cultural differences lies the fabled universal humanity which will inevitably transcend and reconcile everything else. That 'they' aren't really that different from 'us' after all. That they ultimately want the same things.
So there he is, the translator-traveler-envoy of the West, on a reconnaissance mission, dealing in similarities and differences, positing understanding as the flipside of fear. Engaging in what is undoubtably a noble and increasingly necessary endeavour.
And still, I feel unsettled.
2 comments:
Maybe it was unintentional, but slant-quoting Teddy Roosevelt in the subject line is a funny touch thematically.
Unintentional, but it works, I suppose.
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