Sensory Overload
I would never have imagined an entire field of study for anthropological knowledge that focuses on senses and aesthetics. However, just because I’m naïve regarding such scholarly work doesn’t mean I don’t see its relevance, especially when entering into new cultures. When we go into a new culture we’re bringing our subjective perception of our norms and those norms aren’t limited to just what we see but what we smell, touch, hear and taste as well. Our norms, of course, are subjective; the culmination of a lifetime of experience which can be narrowly defined. We might assume it’s the same everywhere. Sarah Pink reminds us, “The idea that ethnographic research is by nature subjective, and requires the researcher to reflect on her or his own role in the production of the ethnographic knowledge, is now a widely accepted paradigm”.[1] Likewise, when we go into a cross-cultural environment we should also reflect on our assumptions about smell, touch, taste and hearing, as suggested in “Doing Sensory Ethnography”; we should do an autobiographical assessment of our own personal sensory culture. In case that’s as convoluted as I’m afraid it might sound, let me offer a personal example of why it’s important.
In October 2006, our family moved to a suburb of Bangkok. Unlike my experience with short term mission trips as a youth, this was a long-term move to a foreign country, with family in tow. A large part of my culture shock was the disconnect I felt between my own sensory assumptions and knowledge and the new sensory reality I moved into. I could probably pick a dozen examples, but my first trip to Carrefour, a local super-market, will do.
We’d seen it a of couple times, so I knew how to get there. Maryanne and I jumped into our Isuzu SUV, also my first driving experience in Thailand, and we made our way to do the mundane task of getting groceries. The local roads were packed, complete with street dogs, water buffalo, motorcycles, the occasional car or truck, and people pushing carts with goods for sale. I can only liken it to being in a video game where you have to avoid everything that’s coming at you. Well, we made it to Carrefour without running into anything or running anyone over, a noteworthy accomplishment. Needless to say, my senses were already heightened, if not strained.
Into
the ground level entrance we walked into what was similar to a typical Asian street market, with vendors in various stalls or booths (albeit inside, constricting the proper venting of smells, sounds, etc.) where you could buy just about anything, a bed, donuts, pets, accessories for your car, clothing, cell phones, a foot massage, DVDs, pharmaceuticals, very little rhyme or reason – my head was already swimming. From the disorganized, chaotic mess with a McDonalds and KFC thrown in, we went up a level to Carrefour, a French-based corporation so I had high hopes of some western sensibilities, alas, they contextualized. What I experienced was sensory overload; I almost turned around and went home. Up the ramp like escalator we went and into the grocery story. At the entrance was a young Thai woman selling a product, I think it was some hygiene product. What disrupted me, almost immobilized me, was that she was using a PA system (speakers, mic, amp) and it was at concert volume. I couldn’t talk to my wife next to me. Of course, all of this was in Thai, which I can’t understand and sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard to me. We began to move away from the sound, towards the produce and once again I almost turned around. My first exposure to durian, a fruit that offers us another evidence that we live in a cursed world, for certainly God didn’t design it that way! Its outer husk is green with spikes (like it’s from another planet) and inside it reminds me of dissecting into brain matter. The best description I’ve heard of the taste – alas I wasn’t brave enough – was it’s like eating strawberries and crème out of a toilet, it’s that foul. Well I could go on to tell you abut the fish sauce, still another assault to the olfactory senses, the Thais love their fish sauce! Whereas westerners have many different kinds of soda filling a grocery aisle, Thais have an entire grocery aisle of different kinds of fish sauces. When we finally got home, after the simplest of tasks, I wondered if I could survive in this strange overwhelming world.
Before reading Pink’s “Doing Sensory Ethnography” I would have assumed that the most knowledge of a culture is largely, if not exclusively, in what we see – the visual. But clearly, while what we see is important, so too is what we smell, what we hear, feel and taste. A culture is made up of all the senses. Maybe if I had a better grip on this, maybe if I had read “Doing Sensory Ethnography” prior to changing cultures, the “shock!” would have been tempered. Actually I think such an understanding would allow me to go into such an experience anticipating the dissidence between my sensory norms and the sensory norms of the host culture. Sensory-based culture shock would become sensory-based cultural discovery.
[1] Pink, Sarah. Doing Sensory Ethnography. London: Sage, 2009, 53.
About the Author
Dave Young
husband, dad, friend, student of culture and a pastor.7 responses to “Sensory Overload”
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Thanks Dave! What an adventure. I’m looking forward to being together and hearing more of what it’s like to move your family to Bangkok.
Pink talks of the importance of memory and I’d say your story is full of sensory memories. Great story!
Dave, I can only imagine the flood of memories that rush into your mind any time you smell fish or hear a crackly old PA system! I wonder what response a native of Thailand who had never ventured out of his homeland would have if he were to venture into Times Square or the Las Vegas strip or any one of the myriad shopping malls found in American Suburbia. Imagine his sensory overload and confusion while stumbling around in search of his favorite fish sauce. “Where’s the fish sauce?! Why can’t a guy just find a decent fish sauce around here”
J
Jon, I’m not so sure he’d be saying “where’s the fish sauce” on the vegas strip:) But, you are right that he’d probably be in culture shock. I had a neat opportunity to visit with a guy from Peru that had travelled all over the world, except to the U.S. He had the impression that we were a big melting pot without a culture of our own, so I tried to paint a picture for him about the different culture in Ohio and the Midwest (my home) compared to other parts of the U.S. He was amazed at the cultural diversity of Americans, and I was amazed at the impression that Americans don’t have a culture of their own.
Dave – you playfully, yet realistically, describe the overwhelming nature of entering into a new place. What I find interesting is that while you felt you had a disconnect when you started, it sounds that you now recognize the value of addressing assumptions. I think your gift of being overseas and being culturally sensitive will benefit all of us.
Dave, I like your phrase, sensory assumptions. I have always thought about the assumptions I make about what my senses sense about another person, setting or culture in the present, but I have not thought about the assumptions being primarily based on what my senses have sensed in the past and how that bends and shapes my sensory assumptions in the future. I do think Pink is trying to help make us aware of the sensory biases we have and how many of our initial and superficial biases could be actually driven from some of our deeper sensory predetermining experiences.
Dave – Andrew Zimmerman said that Durian taste like rotten onions. Wow that was a a lot to take in. I dont think i would have stayed. You experienced just a bit much for me. Going to Cape Town will be my first time out of the country so I’m glad you laid it down like you did so i won’t have a sensory overload! lol
Your post made me think of the relativity of what we sense. People who grow up in extreme heat don’t understand why someone from a cold climate is so uncomfortable. People who grow up in the city can become very anxious when spending time in the country. Many of my fiends do not understand why I think the smell of horses is wonderful. Even though we experience the same sensory input, our responses to that input is influence by our past.