ABSTRACT
In this essay, the author reflects upon the performances of kizb (lying) she and Syrian Turkmen women acted out on a street in Beirut. The women worked informally selling tissues as well as potentially other services that were deemed as too immoral to be explicitly and publicly spoken as the truth, at least in front of an ethnographer. Meanwhile, the author had her own morally problematic behaviour to conceal. Over time, plot-holes in each of their narratives inevitably started to surface. Yet none of them were willing to call out the other’s performance of kizb. This essay considers some of the reasons behind this kizb reciprocity between the women and the author. In doing so, the author also explores briefly some of the complexities that arise in the relationship between the ethnographer and her interlocutors.
Acknowledgements
I am grateful to the following people for their engagement during fieldwork and the writing of this article: Rita Sakr who, during the first months of fieldwork, patiently listened to my verbosity from across her desk at the Orient Institute in Beirut. I am very honoured to have been invited by the other authors in this issue to join a necessary discussion about the politics of doing fieldwork in the region. In particular, I wish to thank Samar Kanafani, Zina Sawaf, Muzna Al Masri and the two anonymous reviewers. My gratitude is also to Michelle Obeid, Adrien Zakar, Kathleen Saleh and Matthias Kloft. I am especially grateful to Umm Jamal, Salwa and Hiba for always making place for me on their pavement. This article is dedicated to them.
Disclosure statement
No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.
Notes
1. Refugees in Lebanon hold an ambivalent and complicated status because the country has not signed the 1951 UN Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees, nor its 1967 Protocol. Lebanon may have accepted other human-rights treaties concerning refugee protection and has taken these agreements to take constitutional precedence over domestic law, yet it is apparent that there remains a minute application of these regulations (see for example: Agosti, Citation2016).
2. In this paper I am using the colloquial term kazzaba/kizb for the standard ‘kadhaba’ from the root ‘kadhib’.
3. These challenges of trying to define anthropology to a perplexed audience are of course not limited to fieldwork. It took years, if not a decade, before my family came to understand my interests. Extended family members in Lebanon who were proud of the fact that I, along with some cousins, were the first generation to attend university, often questioned my choice of profession: ‘Why not study something more useful like law? Better yet, become a medical doctor.’ Meanwhile, certain friends initially confused anthropology with the study of ants. Still, I am fortunate that despite their on-going bewilderment, family and friends continue to support my decision to pursue anthropology as best they can.
4. Salwa’s gratitude for these gifts was different to the display of deference when a generic member of the public made a charitable donation usually of 1000 LL (approximately 0.5 British pounds).