“Rasa Yatra” — Using film to teach cross-cultural empathy

Abstract

Empathy is a key skill for intercultural understanding. This paper evaluates the results of a pilot study for an exercise designed to introduce undergraduate geographers to the problems of interpreting emotional messages from an unfamiliar culture and world view. It is based on the screening of a film “Rasa Yatra: A Pilgrimage to the Heart of India”, which communicates a spiritual, non-western message through images and music. Learners are set the task of interpreting the emotional content of this film and of trying to share the feelings of an Other. Although almost the whole class claimed this exercise to be both enjoyable and worthwhile, only a fifth made any systematic attempt to engage with the film’s emotional content, while more remained detached spectators. Several learners attempted objective analyses of the film’s structures, some focused on embedded cross-cultural ethical issues concerning social justice or gender, while others sought counterpoints between tradition vs. modernity, material vs. spiritual, etc. Very few drew on their prior learning about visual methodologies in Geography although many employed theory learnt within previous sessions of this same class. It is debated whether the use of questionnaires or more simple interpretive prompts would have improved the outcome. Meanwhile, the film provides an easily accessible resource for work on intercultural communication and internationalisation of the Geography curriculum.

Introduction

This paper outlines an attempt to use film to help learners comprehend the character of a different cultural worldview through empathy. It considers the reactions of a class of final year undergraduate geographers to being set the task of explaining the emotional designs of a new film that delivers a spiritual and non-western cultural message through images and music in the tradition of Godfrey Reggio. It also evaluates this experience of using film as a resource for cross-cultural learning. Its aim is to foster interest in using film as an aid towards internationalisation of the curriculum, to highlight some of the problems that are inherent in this approach and, hopefully, spark some further discussion.

Background

Empathy is an important skill for geographers and for all learners. It is a key aspect of what makes human societies function, something that has developed with us through our evolution, and maybe through our history, with emotional intelligence, empathy (howsoever defined), considered one of our most important qualities where it comes to performance as effective employees (De Waal, 2009; Rifkin, 2009; Mayer et al., 2008). The world contains many different cultures and communities who conceive the world in completely different ways to those the European tradition considers normal and some of these communities are now also part of our own multicultural society. As a result, we can no longer disregard them for reasons of distance or lack of propinquity (Adams, 1986; Smith, 2000; Otteson, 2006).

Today, our universities aspire to a global reach and there is sporadic, often economically-motivated, talk of internationalisation of the curriculum (Haigh, 2008a). Amidst the new, Australia-led fashion for defining graduate attributes, which involves defining the outputs of a Higher Education and, by extension, setting goals for curriculum design, ‘global citizenship’ is commonly mentioned. Here, Higher Education trails behind primary and secondary education, where already there is great interest in tackling the challenges of global ethics, environment and citizenship (Butts, 2011). Meanwhile, at Higher Education level, developing global citizenship in graduates is thought to involve inculcating multicultural skills, together with a sense of personal responsibility for sustainability, a commitment to social justice and, inevitably, an appreciation of the global interconnectedness that affects business and the future employment of graduates (Clifford and Haigh, 2011).

For many years, Geographers have sought ways of helping learners to see the world as others see it (cf. Haigh et al., 1995). Robert Burns (1786) established the problem most memorably when he wrote: “O wad some Power the giftie gie us, To see oursels as ithers see us! It wad frae mony a blunder free us, An’ foolish notion”. The question remains — what ‘Power’ is needed for this task? At a recent workshop with postgraduate researchers at the University of Gloucestershire, the task set was to try and re-imagine environmental priorities from the point of view of a different culture, in this case, a Dharmic tradition, which conceives the world not as a material construct — but one created by consciousness (cf. Jacobsen, 1999). The postgraduates present found this task extraordinarily difficult. The answer, which remained out of reach, may be that you change the material world if that is the problem and if consciousness is the problem then you change that. However, the fact that such answers proved elusive suggests that trying to communicate a similar Dharmic worldview in an undergraduate course would be a challenge. In this case, the course in question is an advanced synoptic module: “The Ethical Geographer” (Boyd et al., 2008), which aims to communicate a bicultural perspective and which is part of the Oxford Brookes University Geography programme’s attempt to internationalise their curriculum (Haigh, 2009).

Rasa Yatra: Imbibing a world view by film

This paper reports a pilot study on developing cross-cultural empathy by means of film in a third year undergraduate Geography course at Oxford Brookes University, where it builds on a long tradition of using film in teaching and learning (Gold et al., 1996; Jenkins and Youngs, 1983). This study was made possible by the appearance of a new film, ‘Rasa Yatra: A Pilgrimage to the Heart of India’, which is the first professional feature of a newly graduated, Oxford-based film-maker, Param Tomanec. Param, who is ‘artist in residence’ at the Oxford Centre for Hindu Studies, draws artistic inspiration from the award winning films of Godfrey Reggio, especially Koyaanisqatsi (Reggio, 1982; Tomanec, 2011). Koyaanisqatsi, which means ‘crazy life’, was a wordless evocation of the self-destructive futility of modern western life that employed scenic, time-altered photography over a grinding minimalist score by Philip Glass. Tomanec’s 40 minute film uses similar techniques but does something rather different. Rasa Yatra, which means something like ‘Blissful Journey’, offers an insider perspective of a Hindu spiritual worldview and an evocative depiction of the Hindu spiritual search for liberation-through-devotion from the cycle of material life. The film is largely wordless, although there is a brief spoken segment and four ‘silent-movie style’ dialogue cards that attach the images to scriptural roots in the Bhagavadgita and other Hindu texts. The texts speak of the steadfastness and immanence of God in all things, of the angst of separation from God in the chaos of the material world, and of devotion as a means of escape back to the eternal. However, as Reeves (2011, p.9) comments “images are given primacy, providing the central focus of the story and forming an alternative mode of dialogue” through which Tomanec aims “to capture a sense of the sublime and the divine”. These images drift from meditation amidst untrammelled nature in the Himalayas through tranquil village scenes, through the dust and frenetic squalor of the city and into the fervour of religious festivals. The soundtrack builds gradually from silence, through natural and ambient sounds, to devotional music. Already emotionally powerful, Rasa Yatra’s images are a cascade of Hindu symbols and icons.

Method and classroom context

The question asked is: to what extent did this film, Rasa Yatra, enable third year Geography undergraduate students to imagine the way the world feels from a Hindu spiritual perspective; did it help them come to grips with the ‘ways of seeing’ of a different culture? Well, as a rule of thumb, if you want to know the value of a particular learning resource, the best way of finding out is to ask the learners. Teaching is a practical art and, in truth, it’s hard to know what will be the reaction to any new element ahead of trying it out in the classroom.

The context, in this case, was a final year Geography module called ‘The Ethical Geographer’, which explores the intersection between Geography and Ethics. In 2011, this enrolled 41 learners, the majority ~20-year olds from “middle-England”, plus perhaps 10–15% of older learners and people with non-UK origins, none of them South Asian. The module has four strands — ethics, empathy, environment and employment — and an overtly bicultural emphasis, which involves combining western and Dharmic viewpoints (Haigh, 2009).

Rasa Yatra was introduced at the end of the section on empathy, where students were asked to think about the role of emotions in decision making, about the importance of emotional intelligence, and about the way habitats interact with emotions and behaviour (Mayer et al., 2008). This session introduced the work of the Marxist Parisian ‘Situationiste Internationale’ and the concept of psychological geography or ‘Psychogeography’ and, as its other cultural element, some ideas from India’s ‘Samkhya-Yoga’ philosophy, principally its embedded concept of the three modes of Nature or Gunas (Jacobsen, 1999). In Samkhya-Yoga, every aspect of the material world is considered to be created as an expression of these three modes in different proportions and combinations. They are Sattva — lightness and serenity, Rajas — action and energy, and Tamas — heaviness and dullness. These modes create reality much as three primary colour pixels paint a photographic image.

Here, a three hour classroom session on the Gunas and their manifestations leads into a homework exercise that asks learners first to create an empathic map of a part of their locale according to its dominant Gunas and later, to redesign a part of their own habitat to encourage either Rajasic creativity or Sattvic serenity and contemplation. Inevitably, one learner responded by redesigning their room in Tamasic terms because all they wanted to do there was sleep. Details of this exercise on interpreting ‘the emotional language of space’ are open access published (Haigh, 2008b). Subsequently, this curriculum progresses toward a new topic that focuses on the evolution and characteristics of a range of different world-views, which is based on the argument of Stephen C. Pepper’s ‘World Hypotheses’ (Pepper, 1942).

Rasa Yatra was presented to the class as representing a particular world view. Learners were asked to write down in class a paragraph or so about their reactions to and empathic connection with the film, and 36/41 on the register did so, with all but three of the 36 making some serious attempt to engage with the exercise.

Learner reactions

Some aspects of the learner reaction, however, did not need written testimony but could be observed. First, the film silenced this normally bubbling, chatting and cheery class. There was a rare absolute silence for the first 20 minutes or so while the film meditated in the Himalaya, which continued while it wallowed in the dust, angst and confusion of urban New Delhi. This gradually dissipated as the film became immersed in the unfamiliar imagery and icons of temple and worship in Sri Krishna’s Holy Land, Vrindavan. At this point, noise levels began to grow, only to fade again right at the very end.

In fact, this pattern is reflected in some of the student commentary. Britain is a secular society pervaded by western-style materialistic thought. For a surprisingly large number of the student learners, the spiritual aspect of the film was either invisible or completely ignored. H.H. Bhakti Caitanya Swami (2008) talks of the need for ‘transcendental vision’ to fully appreciate the glories of the Earth, specifically, ‘Sri Radhakunda — The Most Sacred Place in the Universe’, which features in the film - albeit without formal introduction. These student reports emphasise this point to an unexpected degree. Nevertheless, one learner did recognise that the film was about “the binding of consciousness within the material world — working backwards from consciousness to materialism…” However, while a teacher might worry that the scenes of religious practice, iconic sites and both ceremonial and devotional behaviour were overpowering, the concern was unfounded. For many, these images had no more emotional content than the pretty pictures in a coffee table magazine, and although a few did worry about the images of gender segregation during prayer, for many others these scenes were simply more touristically ‘ interesting sights’, which is why the second part of the film seemed to go on too long for some. One student summed up: “… I don’t understand what the film is trying to show … perhaps a different way of life to the western world…”

Previously, in a ‘techniques’ course, these students had been introduced to the methods of visual analysis as summarised by Gillian Rose (2007). Sadly, there was little evidence that this class of learners were able to draw from this preparation. However, since the previous sessions of this class had worked on the Samkhya-Yoga concept of the Gunas, or three modes of nature, (Jacobsen, 1999), several took this as their key and their cue. Samkhya-Yoga philosophy, of course, has a spiritual dimension and its three modes provide a three step stairway to heaven. Tamas is the lowest, most animal and least spiritual mode of nature. It is associated with sloth, ignorance and banality. Sattva is the highest mode of nature and this mode of ‘goodness’, which is expressed as harmony, tranquillity, spirituality and light, is considered to provide the platform from which liberation may be attained. Rajas is an active principle in the middle, the fire that produces positive results when mixed with Sattva and negative when mixed with Tamas. Naturally, because of the immediacy of association, many — but by no means all — of the learners sought to extend their work on this model into interpretation of this film.

For most, early meditative scenes in the Himalayas, often time-lapse sequences of mountains, waters, cloudscapes, sadhus (Holy men) in meditation, and even some scenes of Himalayan village life, were counted as Sattvic. Scenes of dust, noise and dissension in Delhi and beyond were considered to be Rajasic with a Tamasic aspect, while the crowded religious and devotional scenes were counted Rajasic with a Sattvic aspect. In a couple of cases, learners found themselves unable to distinguish between the two static gunas. For them, the Sattvic serenity of the Himalayas and its ascetics in mediation was no different from Tamasic sleep; for the activity addicted — peace and tranquillity was equated with boredom.

For others, ‘stunning’ images from the mountains, sound tracked by natural sounds, evoked a “spiritual emotion … you felt like you were there”. This interpretation found the learner on a journey from the spiritual down into a material world, caricatured humorously by scenes depicting the proud owner of a digital watch and the ‘computer’ salesman selling a pink toy robot. Then, back towards the spiritual — a struggle though the emotional angst of separation from the divine — as helpfully sign-boarded by a silent movie-style quotation board — through spiritual and devotional fervour toward liberation and escape from the mundane. Several of the learners recognised the film’s circular structure. One wrote: “The film shows the beginning of life and the end of it in summary…” while another said that it concerns: “…religion and how it governs ways of thinking/life.” However, screened through an undergraduate lens, this emerged most often as “…the film contrasts social and environmental views, social awareness in an ethical perspective.”

The film declares itself to be a pilgrimage but it is also a mandala, a circle that completes itself in the whirling, golden dance that evokes the core mystery of Hindu Vaisnavism, the Ras Lila, a dance of divine union, which frames the film at start and close (Schweig, 2007). The film also contains reference to the Hindu cycle of time, which is currently at its low point in the (Kaliyug), Age of Iron and of Quarrel. Of course, a great deal of the film’s message is couched in the arcane teachings of Hindu religious thought and imparts messages that those who have not engaged with the tradition are ill equipped to receive. As one wrote: “I sensed a deeper message, but I am not sure I am informed enough to get it.” Of course, this realisation (and the humility attached to it) is, in itself, no bad thing. Similarly, there is no discussion of the pilgrimage aspect in the learners’ analysis. Pilgrimage is a good geographical topic but not one currently taught at Oxford Brookes, so these learners were not familiar with the models applied to this class of activity and experience, so the film’s cycle between quiet private meditation and the bustle of communal religion was not discussed (Turner, 2005).

Inevitably, some sought to translate the film into normal, materialistic, geographical terms and several achieved a valuable discourse from their approach. For many, the film counterpoised opposites: tradition vs. modernity, wilderness vs. civilisation, etc. One wrote: “Shows cultural variation within India: old and new, rural and urban, traditional and westernised…”, another commented: “The key feature in this film is the conflict between ways of life…” Yet another elaborated: “It first showed the rural side of things. Religion is still strong and values are being kept… Then the other showed a completely different side of life with the noisy machinery and industries…where values and tradition have been diluted.” Another wrote “I felt like the film developed into a battle between the physical natural beauty of the world and the human notion of progress.” Even more promisingly, one connected the film to the class’s empathy theme: “…the director wants us to imagine which groups were the happiest…” and it is likely that he did.

Discussion

Almost all of the class claim to have enjoyed the film and thought that watching it was worthwhile. However, many undergraduates simply do like watching film, although if they are not given some task to perform, little of the content is absorbed (di Palma, 2009). In other (as yet unpublished) work, the author has found that the quiz scores of learners who were set puzzles to solve while watching films were much higher than those of learners who were allowed to watch passively. This exercise set the learners a task of decoding and provided, to those who needed it, a key in the form of preparatory exercises that defined the three modes of nature (Gunas).

Of course, elsewhere, market-research-style audience surveys, psychoanalysis and semiotics are the characteristic methods of those who study the effects of film (Rose, 2007). Indeed, Rose’s checklists, from the review chapter of her text, provided these Oxford Brookes students with their initial introduction to visual methodologies (Rose, 2007, p.257 et seq.). In this context, it could be argued that a simple questionnaire might have been employed, rather than the more anthropological free format approach used (e.g. Pavis, 1985). Unfortunately, questionnaires have a tendency to create linear mental paths and, consciously or unconsciously, suggest a final overall perception (cf. Banks, 2001). Many film questionnaires also tend to be heavily representational, stressing content ahead of the emotional and empathic, which is key in this instance. Of course, the challenge here was to go beyond the mechanical, material and representational — although many of the learners were content to interpret the film in this manner by detailing, usually very selectively, what it showed, sometimes scene by scene. Even studies that employ Likert scale-based questionnaire items to track, for example, the emotional effect of film music and its influence upon meaning may have similar problems in that they objectify and divert attention from intuitive and emotional feelings (Bullerjahn and Giildenring, 1994). In fact, even those dimensional models that divide responses according to axes of ‘valence’ (positive, e.g. happiness, to negative, e.g. sadness) and ‘arousal’ (low, e.g. calm/peaceful, to high, e.g. excited/energetic), which seem not hugely different from the Guna model, have the problem that they reach into the observer and not outward as in empathy (Ellis and Simmons, 2005). In fact, most of these formal critical analytic approaches to film encourage learners to slip back into their acquired habits of academic objectivity, which distraction is exactly the opposite of the subjective identification that this exercise requires. Another broad problem with many academic approaches is that their critical analyses can help reinforce an appreciation of social differences and hierarchical relationships (Rose, 2005), which, of course, is precisely the opposite of both of the intention of this exercise and the universalist spirit that underpins the Rasa Yatra film. Nevertheless, some form of prompt for the respondents still seems a good idea, so for the next run of this exercise, learners will be offered a slate of four questions as prompts. In draft, these are: 1. How does this film affect your feelings? What feelings /emotions does the film try to communicate? 2. How is the film structured? What does this tell you about what is the film trying to say? 3. Which scene (or two scenes) of the film affect you most strongly and why? 4. What do you draw on (from your own personal history) that helps you understand the meaning of this film?

In general, as Blasco et al. note, one strength of teaching with film is that “The movie experience acts like emotional memory for learners’ developing attitudes…” and that “To educate through emotions doesn’t mean to limit learning about values and attitudes exclusively in the affective domain. The point is to provoke students to reflect on those values and attitudes.” (2011, p.175). Here, the learners were challenged to acknowledge the ethical and value-system issues that provide the context for this study. Indeed, several learners found ethical messages within the film that concerned social justice, gender relations and, with help from the Samkhya — Yoga Gunas, ‘ways of being’ in the world. However, the key part of their task was to go beyond these issues to tap into the emotional. The greater part of the challenge set here was to understand the feelings that drove the film’s message, a task based in empathy, emotional intelligence, and requiring a willingness to try and see the world through the eyes of an Other. Here, despite the intensity of the emotional language of the film, only a few, perhaps 10–20% of the class, were willing to set aside their custom of academic objectivity and try to feel what the film was communicating. Of course, the idea that education should be affective remains a novel counter-current in an education system that seems otherwise designed to create, usually through abstraction, an emotional distance between the student and object of study.

Nevertheless, an academic commentator might argue that: “…it is not only impossible, given their…representational function (intended or not by the artist), but downright irresponsible and ill-advised, to ignore the ‘content’ or ‘conceptual meaning’ (the signified), and concomitantly, the ethical function of artworks…” (Olivier, 2007 p.62). Olivier raises the problem that semiotics seeks to address, which is how to interpret signs that have culturally differentiated meaning. Consider, in western culture, the gift of a bunch of roses may signify ‘passionate affection’ but this meaning is not inherent to the gift. Similarly, in Rasa Yatra, scenes of cows grazing evoke a great deal more than agriculture, but this may not be quite so evident to an audience unfamiliar with Vaisnava belief.

Semiology is the art of decoding the vocabulary of signs and similar signals, messages that relate less to themselves than to associations and forms in some deeper system of social, often culturally specific, meaning (Rose, 2007; Stam, 1992). Many, maybe most, of these signs of everyday life have wider significance, which may be veiled to one unfamiliar with the culture that creates them. Frequently, these associations signal ethical values and many are emotionally charged. For example, in India the swastika is a holy symbol that asserts a positive affirmation of being but, employed as art in Europe, it is used to trigger entirely different feelings and completely different ethical associations. In the case of Rasa Yatra, some of these problems have been smoothed by the fact that the film maker is a hybrid, a Czech-born Hindu convert, operating in an oeuvre strongly influenced by western film auteurs. His film strives to be accessible on many levels and to different audiences. Despite this, its images provide a cascade of Hindu symbols and offer levels of meaning that lie beyond the grasp of a western-educated undergraduate audience. However, this may not matter, except to a serious student of film, because the main effect of a film is, normally, that which it exerts on an uncommitted audience at first showing. The results of this study suggest that the Rasa Yatra film communicates strongly enough to encourage undergraduate geography learners to reflect upon their own worldview and expresses its message in a way that is powerful enough to transcend cultural barriers and to allow them an opportunity to empathise with the worldview of an Other.

Conclusion

Empathy is a key skill for geographers and a vital aspect of the emotional intelligence that is needed to interact successfully in multicultural situations. This paper describes the pilot for an exercise designed to help final year undergraduate geographers understand the emotional signs and signals of a different culture and worldview. The exercise is based on a screening of a new ‘art-house’ style film by Param Tomanec called “Rasa Yatra: A Pilgrimage to the Heart of India”, which communicates its spiritual, non-western message without dialogue, using only images and music. Learners are set the task of interpreting this film, especially the feelings and emotions that it communicates. The challenge for these geographers is to set aside their academic objectivity and sense the subjective feelings of others. Afterwards, almost the whole class claimed to have enjoyed this exercise and considered it worthwhile. However, while a fifth made some serious attempt to decode the emotional content of the film, more remained detached touristic spectators of the images displayed. Several attempted objective analyses of the construction of the film, while others addressed ethical issues concerning social justice, gender relationships or tried to counterpoint tradition vs. modernity, material vs. spiritual, etc. Few learners drew on their prior learning about visual methodologies in Geography although, appropriately enough, many carried through learning about the Samkhya-Yoga three modes of nature from previous class sessions into their analyses.

Seeing the world as others see it, emotional intelligence and empathy, are key skills in developing (not only cross-cultural) understanding of the ways people make their worlds. It is early days, but just possibly exercises of this kind may suggest a way ahead. One key question, however, remains: namely how much guidance and structure do we need to offer the learners to enable their interpretation? Evidence suggests that formats such as questionnaires or over-attention to more usual ‘Geographical’, or in this case ethical issues, can be distractions that reinforce the barriers that divorce learners from the emotional content of the film and so reduce its affective impact. However, many among this group of learners did put their immediately prior learning about the three modes of nature to good effect in their discussions of the film’s emotional aims and symbolism. The conclusion is that some kind of key or prompt, discretely offered, may be effective, and work continues to refine this. Meanwhile, Param Tomanec’s beautiful and spiritual film; ‘Rasa Yatra: A Pilgrimage to the Heart of India’ provides a useful, inexpensive and easily obtained resource for anyone seeking to demonstrate a different world view.

Acknowledgements

Thanks go to Param Tomanec for providing an advance copy of Rasa Yatra and allowing me the honour of writing a commentary from the viewpoint of a Geography teacher. The film is now available from Param Tomanec at the Oxford Centre for Hindu Studies, Magdalen Street, 13-15 Magdalen Street, Oxford Ox1 3AE, UK.; Tel.: [phone]; http://www.ochs.org.uk/; and in Limited Edition for £20 from: The Meller Merceux Gallery, 105 High Street, Oxford OX1 4BW, Tel. [phone]; [email protected] (Reeves, 2011, p.19).