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January 29, 2006
Chinese New Year
Just weeks after the Russian Festival, Trafalgar Square filled itself with another cultural celebration--the Chinese New Year. Unlike the former, the Chinese celebration spanned through China Town and closed down many streets in central London.
Of interest to me was a dragon parading through the crowded streets...
Dragon.
Part of what I observed involved people hanging a head of lettuce from their 2nd floor window which the dragon would eat, then spit out with little gifts.
Dragon going up.
Main street in China Town. You can get food here almost 24 hours a day.
The Chinese New Year is actually a 15 day celebration, of which what I attended, was only the first. Each day carries with it certain rituals: abstaining from meat (day 1), prayer to ancestors (day 2),...seven vegetable drink for farmers (day 7), family reunion (day 8)... Lantern Festival (day 15).
I nearly missed on this celebration all together, had it not been for a reminder from my local China House Restaurant. I go there so often (3.50 pound student special), last week, when being informed on which celebrations to attend, I was offered a job! Four pounds per hour and two free meals per shift, working four shifts a week...tempting, but there is almost too much to do here to frequent any place that often. I do not even go to campus more than three days a week.
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January 21, 2006
Narratives and Medicine
Oxford University private courtyard where one student in the halls described it as, "the place where stories are exchanged: between student and teacher, reader and book, friend with another."
On my lastest trip to Barnes and Nobles--to find books my library does not have--I came across a new section; Physician Writers. The list includes Oliver Sacks (The Man who confused his Wife for a Hat), Michael Crichton (Jurassic Park), Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Sherlock Holmes), Nawal El Saawadi (The Hidden Face of Eve: Women in the Arab World), William Carlos Williamson (winner of the 1962 Pulitzer Prize) and Cecil Helman (physician with training in Anthropology.)
The last of these, Helman, recently gave a book talk at UCL. He had just published a book of his memoirs (Suburban Shaman: Tales from Medicine's Frontline), and while reading from it, also wanted to partially explain this recent proliferation of physcians who have become writers. He used timekeeping as an analogy for the narrative. With a digital watch, when you look for the time, you literally see only the present--a "snapshot" of time. Prior to the digital era, however, one read the time on a watch with hands, and could see the time "before" as the time "after." In his opinion, recent medicine (for a multiple reasons) has limited physicians to look only for a snapshot view of patients lives (the breif moment they are sick and come into a clinic), when they would really prefere a fuller, contextualized view (the "before" and "after".) And yet even in these breif interactions, the physician works agrresively to form a narrative. Helman's booked is introduced with the idea that, "Medicine is not just about science. It’s also all about stories, and about the mingling of narratives among doctors, and between them and their patients." The narrative, for him, was the therapy as much as anything else.
The greatest gift you can offer anyone--a patient or otherwise--will be a story; the story you share and engage, the one you listen to and mold, the ones you commit to unfolding with enthusiasm and humility. This being Helman's perspective, he found it no surprise that with increasing pressures limiting the physicians ability to engage a full narrative, they are now writing them.
Amongst the latest additions to this writing genre has come from American physicians writing not about their medical career, but about their training: the 100 hour weeks, 36 hour shifts, the late night calls, the 'rites of passage' they 'fought' through, and the 'heroic' measures it took to 'survive' training. An initial read through such works might lead one to see them as a type of "narrative self-therapy." That the telling/creating of the narrative helps the medical student (or intern or resident) cope with the situation. The regularity of such language found amongst those in the medical profession has prompted some (anthropologists) to suggest it may be an intentional effect. The 'institution of biomedicine' works deliberately to make those in the sytem perceive they have taken on some "heroic" measures to become a physician. The arguement would then imply that if physicians saw their training as somehow more bearable, less than impossible, something closer to a "normal" 40 hour work week, the institution of biomedicine would lose authoritative power.
While on paper these arguements seem convincing, see the narrative in the red, half closed eyes of a resident completing a 112 hour week, and thoughts of him/her as a vehicle of institutional power is far from your first thoughts. I think, though, one like Foucault would argue that is exactly the point.
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January 15, 2006
Russian Winter Festival
Russian Winter Festival in Trafalgar Square, London.
This weekend in London was the Second Annual Russian Winter Festival. It was full of performances ranging from traditional dance to contemporory rock, speeches, food and Baltika--Russia's number one beer. Though I could not understand most of it--even the food menus were in Russian--somehow the excitement of others who did know what was going on rubbed off on me.
Such events (here and elsewhere) are fairly common--only a few weeks ago there was a similar one focused on Italy, and I believe a few others are coming up in the Spring. It is interesting to me why such events are so popular. Asking an Irish friend from the U.S. why she attended four Irish cultural festivals a year, she told me, "It offers a sense of community." To which I replied, "But of the thousands of people there, surely you do not know all of them. In fact, you'll never get to know more than a small fraction of them. You are almost... you are almost imagining them as your community." I was not being critical of it, but just curious. I do the same thing with people of Egyptian background; Coptic people I have never met before insisted on having me over for Christmas dinner a couple weeks ago, and have invited me again both weekends since. I do not think one would this with a complete stranger--meaning somehow, before ever meeting eachother, I was imagined to be part of their community which they were willing to "sacrifice" [word choice will be clearer in the next paragraph] part of their meal to have me at their table.
Bennedict Anderson, in his book, Imagined Communities looks at this phenomena. He describes a nation as being "an imagined political community....It is imagined because the members of even the smallest nation will never know most of their fellow-members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion." His interest in the ability (and consistent tendency) for humans to develop this notion of "community" with people they have never met as a foundation/catalyst in forming a nation. He further suggests, this feeling--that me got invited to dinner, and brought thousands of Russians together in Trafalgar Square this weekend--is so visceral in humans, it is why they are willing "sacrifice" (part or all of) themselves for a nation in the context of war. Such a reading has left me bittersweet about these "celebrations of culture" because it seems that feeling which catalyzes such an event, is the same start that potentially leads to other less desirable ends.
This arguement is not flawless, but at the moment is amongst the leading (partial) explanations for why thousands of people from an ethnic community mobilize so quickly and sacrfice so willingly for a common cause--be it a cultural festival, or a war with a neighboring nation.
Posted by ami6 at 07:16 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
January 12, 2006
Starting Another Term...
Under the London Eye.
After a month of travel and visitors, I am back in London to begin another academic term. For many, this means a bit more work than last, as most courses are evaluated through an unseen timed essay Examination in May that require intensive review. While I only have to sit for two (most students are doing anywhere from 3-8), it is enough to get some anxiety started. But, any such fears were temporarily assuaged by todays department email. It read:
Hello everybody, as the new year arrived and a new term starts we have decided to organise a pub crawl to start the term off properly. Being more easily excited than other people after seeing the strange red line that has appeared through a large part of London we have decided that we should follow this piece of material culture to its end, stopping at some pubs on the way to debate its purpose.We will begin at.... Please come along as we are hopng to get great numbers for a brilliant start to the term. Try and wear a line based outfit (I have no idea what that is) and I shall see you all
there. The rules will be explaied on the night, but the group must pass down the red line in a line (so original I know).Look forward to seeing you all there.
My 'modules' (courses) this term look something like...
Advanced Medical Anthropology : This course is taught namely to UK medical students. The concerns are addressing "domestic international health" (my label, though I imagine there is a better one) issues, such as access and compliance amongst immigrant groups at the Primary Care level. A recent survey showed that nearly %40 of people in London identitfy themselves as belonging to an ethnic/'racial' minority group. How must a physician change his or her approach being trained in a biomedical tradition, treating a patient who has grown up in a non-biomedical health orientation (or even a different biomedical system)? How can such a space be negotiated?
Anthropological Approaches to Eurasian Post-Socialist and Post-Communist Societies: What is Socialiam? The Rise, the Fall, and what comes next? I will, after some background reading, choose one society to intensely focus on. Czech is high on my list at the moment, but suggestions are welcome.
Art in London from the 19th and 20th Centuries: London is home to a number of significant galleries, and while they are "fun to look at", it is better, I think, to know why they matter besides "just looking nice." Topics are varied, but two of personal interest are 1.) the politics of display (how museums display certain artifacts in a way that support a certain political agenda) and 2.)medicine in art (how the body is understood and imaged in different cultural and historical contexts).
Psychiatry and Anthropology: Many (if not all) anthropologist (particulary those following a Boazian way of thinking) will agree to favor "nuture" in a discussion of "nature vs. nuture" concerning mental health. The cultural relativity of psychiatry is, I think, one of the sharpest and most glaring contrasts in cross-cultural medical systems. What is a 'mental illness'? And if it indeed has namely social origins, how might one approach treatment? How does this change in a cross-cultural or multi-cultural setting? My understanding in the department is that taking this course with Professor Littlewood will be something almost CV worthy, or at the very least annecdotally worthy amongst other anthropologists.
I did not commit to this last term, but I hope (largely for my benefit in revising for year end Examnations) to try incorperating a few posts about some potential applications of my course work.
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January 05, 2006
Fourth Visitor: Drummond Rolls In...
Top 10 Memories of Drummond in London:
10.) Walking off the plane and having packed in his bag two Chipotle Burito Bowls (and tortia shell) which he froze overnight and snuck past customs.
Ah, chicken with pinto beans in medium and mild sauce.
9.) Trying on four different days to eat at a local cafe that was not open for 1.) New Years Eve, 2) New Years Day, 3)Bank Holiday after New Years, and 4.) not enough customers, so the owner closed early. "So do things just open when they feel like it around here?" asked Brian.
8.) Spending money just to get rid of change. (Anything under $10 here would be carried in coins.)
7.) Going to the British Museum and bypassing the mobbed-by-masses real Rosetta Stone to touch and play with less popular model Rosetta Stone in the next room. Also, looking for the Magna Carter in the BM, when its not even housed there. Opps.
Outside the British Museum.
6.) Walking to a store at 3AM to order fries so we can get some Burger Sauce. Then on the way home asking for "just a lil bit of a fruit-corner, yeah?"
5.) Being too lazy to walk to the store at 3 A.M. and instead making 1.) Ravioli & Mac 'n Cheese with hot sauce and 2.) Tuna Mac 'n Cheese.
4.) Getting Chinese food on the way to the fireworks at Big Ben so we can eat it on the way back. I don't think I have had so many people talk to me in one night.
Fireworks along the Thames. You can see a blurry Big Ben on the right.
3.) Going to Tate Modern and trying to understand any rationale for at least one piece in each room..."You know what I mean, innit?"
Our own effort at abstract art titled, 'St. Paul's Cathedral.' Our artists' statement is roughly: It explores themes of alienation and subjectivity while giving a stark and somber reminder that the viewer only sees himself alongside a friend when trying to view the manifestation of religious belief. It also a commentary on the decline of morality in the post-modern, dechristianized Europe apposite to the rise in popularity of tight clothing. Finally, it aims to revive the use of night photography near rivers through windows viewing otherwise famous landmarks of celebrated towns with troubled histories and stunning legacies. [Right, we didn't understand any of the artist explanations for their work either.]
2.) Piggy back rides.
1.) Becoming regulars at The Norfolk Arms. The bartenders knew to pour our drinks when we walked in the door, then went on about American stereotypes fueled by Drummond insisting to pay for his pint with an Abraham Lincoln fiver.
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