Of the two, what we have been told by “experts,” a phenomenon often unrecognized, is the more destructive of true understanding. From early childhood through old age, many of us accept without question concepts and solutions provided us by the books we read, the television or movies we see, and the opinions favored by our friends, relatives, and teachers. So powerful is the effect of this lifelong reliance on “experts” and “expert opinion” that I have observed extremely bright college students watch a video of pottery making three or four times before realizing that major aspects of the process are different from the way I described it to them moments before.
What we are capable of seeing depends on our ability to suspend routine processing of visual images. In everyday life, most of us observe phenomena only long enough to classify them and assess their immediate utility or meaning. This transitory glance helps us avoid the paralysis that would result from sensory overload had we to absorb and analyze every visual detail we perceived before we could respond. Fortunately speedy absorption of detail and comprehension are easily taught for most kinds of visual stimuli. Courses in speed reading and reading comprehension have in particular enjoyed considerable success.
The camera is also useful in helping us see clearly. A recording of an ethnographic process on file can be viewed repeatedly. The mistakes of interpretation made the first viewing can be corrected at a later showing. A film can serve as a training tool for students and also help the ethnoarchaeologist verify previous observations or discover new aspects that escaped observation in the field. Using cameras for studying ethnographic detail, however, is not necessarily the same as the production of an ethnographic or documentary film. In the former one focuses the camera and lets it run through every aspect of a process no matter how repetitive or boring. In the latter a producer or director often edits the material to present effectively a particular message or point of view and to take into account the normal span of audience attention. Today the easy availability of movie or video cameras makes them an important research tool. In the late 1960s in Iraq restrictions on their import and use and the cost of the equipment made them impractical. Still cameras, however, were an acceptable import, and shooting snapshots throughout a process of artifact manufacture or use proved extremely useful.
Clarity of perception is equally important in understanding the cultural significance or impact of change. Sometimes we can observe changes but lack understanding. Other times change is not easily seen, yet it is obvious from subsequent behavior or occurrences that important changes have taken place. Sometimes dramatic changes that appear major turn out to be minor, and sometimes changes that appear minor have significant cultural impact. Based on my experience at al-Hiba, I feel certain that the investigator must actually be present just before, or at the time when, major cultural changes occur in order to understand fully their significance or their structure. It is in community actions and deliberations that take place during the contemplation of these changes and in their initial processes that real issues and factors are weighed and discussed. A good example of this can be found in the discussion of change from mud to plastic toys (see p.89). Although afterward people attributed the change to the durability and color of the plastic, the primary motivating factor and its enforcement depended on aspects of family honor (see p. 88–9).
Since in ethnography the investigator deals with a living culture it is possible to explore actions and opinions of each member of the group provided they are willing to explain these to you. With perseverance one is able to understand the significance to the villagers individually and collectively of what we observe. This immediacy of understanding is not possible for the archaeologist, who must rely for his or her elucidations on those few artifacts preserved, his or her interpretations of their contexts, and whatever written documentation exists. The complexity of results from ethnoarchaeological research cautions archaeologists against over reliance on or easy acceptance of simple theoretical constructs to explain the nature, function, and significance of artifactual evidence.
Long-term, intensive ethnoarchaeological research with emphasis on clarity of comprehension can separate us, however reluctantly, from the outcomes we expect. It can also protect us from false, even comical ideas, which often result from scattered observations here and a few cogent questions there. Moreover, it can provide us with enough detail to understand the underlying structure of cultural persistence and change.
Problems in Collecting Data
Repeated and unhurried observations of the same process performed by many different informants, I believe, gave the most reliable information, and my serious reservations about ethnoarchaeological evidence based on interviews, questionnaires, or one or two observations are a direct result of this study. During my research I was told, and sometimes shown, many things that turned out to be inaccurate about artifact functions or manufacturing processes. Only by watching a process from beginning to end, performed by different people and in different villages, was I able to correct mistaken impressions. For instance, the time it took to make an artifact, which is an important factor in computing its relative cultural value, could be shortened by mentioning verbally but not performing one or more processes, or it could be lengthened considerably by the informant drawing out activities or descriptions as if explaining them to a two-year-old child. Things could be added, especially decorative touches, which were never seen on the artifact in question in an inventory of household items, or details could be omitted entirely.
People in the villages were always pleasant and hospitable. They would inevitably seek to please me in any way they could, which often included telling me what they thought I wanted to hear. I had to be extremely careful not to influence their replies by asking questions in such a way as to suggest the answer or by showing through facial expression or gesture either approval or disapproval. I also had to ensure that my guide, Muhammad, did not prejudice the outcome. He, of course, had heard what others said on the same subject, so it was natural and easy for him to weight answers and discussions in accord with what he had previously heard or seen. Indeed the villagers sometimes asked him outright what it was I wanted them to say or just how I wanted them to carry out a process.
Interviewees telling us what they think we want to hear probably leads to less error than other ways that they may (and do) respond. Some try to create what they imagine is a good impression, others reply with their notion of how things should be rather than the way they are. If this can happen among people whom an interviewer has known for years and who are genuinely trying to help, think of the potential error in interviewing subjects who are strangers and who have no interest in you or the success of your project. No amount of textbook behavior modification can ever replace a relationship based on years of association and proven concern for the interviewees and demonstrated usefulness to them and their villages. We were the area’s largest employer, we tried to live within the constraints of local morality, and we actively aided those in need of medical attention. Few people in the area were eager to divulge technical secrets on which their livelihood depended, but they might acquiesce for those whom they saw as appreciative and reciprocative good neighbors.
Other misleading information comes about when the informants consider their behavior old fashioned or embarrassing. For example, while watching a local burial from some distance, I happened to notice that the deceased woman’s jewelry was modeled out of mud. Although Muhammad and I had been concentrating on collecting information about the use of mud for several weeks, this was one usage he had never mentioned to me. It turned out that some families replaced the real jewelry of the dead, which often comprised the entire material resources of the family, with imitations in mud before interment. As this would appear to be a very local and unique practice somewhat at odds with religious tenets and, as far as I know, practiced no where else in Iraq, Muhammad was reluctant to discuss it. He considered this custom by some of his neighbors old fashioned, mortifying, and too bound up with the aura of death to be wholly safe for discussion. When I later took pictures of substitute jewelry being made for the adornment of a corpse, some villagers were convinced that I would die within the year. Had I not actually seen the earlier interment, I would never have known about this usage, for no one would have told me.
After making horrendous language
