My earliest memory is sitting in a BOAC VC10 on the runway in Germany being refuelled. We were on our way to Nigeria, where Dad had a 9-month contract installing telephone exchanges. I have happy memories of the Federal Palace and Apapa Hotels, where we'd go for a day out, and Tarkwa Bay, which was calm enough for me to paddle in. Years later, in my teens, Dad gave me the dinner jacket he'd bought from Leventis Stores. His work in Nigeria allowed us to get central heating when we came home.
Dad also took a job in Libya which led to a colour TV and new furniture. I visited in the school holidays.
As an undergraduate I specialised in Middle Eastern cultures, a term which for anthropologists covers an enormous area from Morocco to Afghanistan.
My fieldwork in Jamaica in 1989 disabused me of any romanticism about the role of liberal Westerners, and their reception by those they find "interesting". At the same time, I was proud of the theory I advanced that Jamaica had jumped from agricultural to post-modern society without pausing for industrial capitalism on the way, and that, in the absence of material forms of status, manipulation of symbolic resources became a crucial form of social legitimacy.
In later life, looking for songs for a film I was shooting, I stumbled on Brazilian music, or MPB to be precise. A Gal Costa song was playing in the cafe when I asked the barista what it was. I wasn't sure if Gal Costa was a style of music or a band, but after finding the CD, she became one of my favourite artists, sadly passing away late last year. Covid robbed me of the chance to see her in concert - the performance was due just a few weeks after lockdown began. From there I branched out into various other Lusophone music. I have a fond memory of Cesaria Evora sitting down mid-concert at the Royal Festival Hall, and lighting a cigarette, a week or two after the ban. (Security refrained from tackling her, in her dotage.) I'm particularly interested in Italian culture, e parlo un po d'italiano, sparked by some fascinating short documentaries on Italian folklore by Michelangelo Antonioni, and of course the writing of Italo Calvino, as well as fond memories of a close friend from Mantua at SOAS. And, naturally, I've had other long-term friendships across cultures, including a Jewish friend of over 30 years standing, a Nigerian economist I've been close to since 1999, and a former partner from Pakistan.
At the House of Commons I met many delegations from abroad, sometimes giving a tour, more often giving presentations on how to run a research service. I met politicians, including the Speaker of the Zimbabwean Parliament and a number of MPs from other Commonwealth countries, one of whom I helped to find the independence act for his homeland, plus staffers from Thailand, Tanzania, Rwanda and Iraqi Kurdistan. I remember in particular one moving occasion when I gave a talk to my counter-parts from Sierra Leone. They were embarrassed at how few resources they had, but I did my best to encourage them. The whole presentation was about professional matters, how to maintain impartiality in particular. At the end I made one implied reference to the desperate civil war that had distorted their society. "You are giving more to your country than I could ever give to mine". They got in touch afterwards to say how inspiring they found that comment, which gave them renewed confidence.
#pb4mp
Dad also took a job in Libya which led to a colour TV and new furniture. I visited in the school holidays.
As an undergraduate I specialised in Middle Eastern cultures, a term which for anthropologists covers an enormous area from Morocco to Afghanistan.
My fieldwork in Jamaica in 1989 disabused me of any romanticism about the role of liberal Westerners, and their reception by those they find "interesting". At the same time, I was proud of the theory I advanced that Jamaica had jumped from agricultural to post-modern society without pausing for industrial capitalism on the way, and that, in the absence of material forms of status, manipulation of symbolic resources became a crucial form of social legitimacy.
In later life, looking for songs for a film I was shooting, I stumbled on Brazilian music, or MPB to be precise. A Gal Costa song was playing in the cafe when I asked the barista what it was. I wasn't sure if Gal Costa was a style of music or a band, but after finding the CD, she became one of my favourite artists, sadly passing away late last year. Covid robbed me of the chance to see her in concert - the performance was due just a few weeks after lockdown began. From there I branched out into various other Lusophone music. I have a fond memory of Cesaria Evora sitting down mid-concert at the Royal Festival Hall, and lighting a cigarette, a week or two after the ban. (Security refrained from tackling her, in her dotage.) I'm particularly interested in Italian culture, e parlo un po d'italiano, sparked by some fascinating short documentaries on Italian folklore by Michelangelo Antonioni, and of course the writing of Italo Calvino, as well as fond memories of a close friend from Mantua at SOAS. And, naturally, I've had other long-term friendships across cultures, including a Jewish friend of over 30 years standing, a Nigerian economist I've been close to since 1999, and a former partner from Pakistan.
At the House of Commons I met many delegations from abroad, sometimes giving a tour, more often giving presentations on how to run a research service. I met politicians, including the Speaker of the Zimbabwean Parliament and a number of MPs from other Commonwealth countries, one of whom I helped to find the independence act for his homeland, plus staffers from Thailand, Tanzania, Rwanda and Iraqi Kurdistan. I remember in particular one moving occasion when I gave a talk to my counter-parts from Sierra Leone. They were embarrassed at how few resources they had, but I did my best to encourage them. The whole presentation was about professional matters, how to maintain impartiality in particular. At the end I made one implied reference to the desperate civil war that had distorted their society. "You are giving more to your country than I could ever give to mine". They got in touch afterwards to say how inspiring they found that comment, which gave them renewed confidence.
#pb4mp