Starting at the Periphery

Sometimes things happen more slowly than I would like. Ok, I should re-phrase that: things almost always happen more slowly than I would like. This includes my research. No matter how many times I go through this process of beginning over again on a new project, I have the same experience of irrational frustration with the pace of both my own learning, and the unfolding of the project. I call this frustration “irrational” because anyone who has ever tried to study human beings knows that they simply do not ever do what you would wish them to do, when you wish them to do it, or how you would wish them to do it. Research subjects forget appointments. They get sick. They change their plans, change their minds, and generally don’t give a hoot about your problems as a researcher. Which is fine, I tell myself over and over again.

Doing research is not like unwrapping a present. It is not tidy, and the results do not show up neatly packaged and ready to go. And researchers do not always feel completely in control of the situation. For someone who has a tendency towards control issues, this can be a challenge. This is what I tell myself, as I realize that in this project I will necessarily be starting at the periphery and working my way slowly towards the center. And this is fine.

As a newcomer to Congo, and to the languages spoken here, and to the culture and history of the place, I am beginning the process of learning about this place by learning about others like me who have been here longer. I am listening to them talk about the difficulties of working and living here, of their own frustrations when confronted with a culture they experience as very different from their own. I am watching how they interact with each other, and with local Congolese people. And most of all I am listening to them talk about how difficult it is to communicate in Congo. I listen to the different explanations that these expats – Americans, Europeans, and others – come up with to explain what they see as the source of the difficulty. These explanations vary from the political (the residues of state socialism) to the cultural (people here just don’t “get it”). Meetings do not follow the same pattern as they do in the US. Partners and colleagues do not “follow up” or “share ideas” in the same way they do in Europe. Sometimes the reasons for the difficulties are explained as problems of corruption and patronage, structural issues that impede progress on a variety of fronts.   

My task, as a communication researcher, is not to verify or corroborate the truth or falsehood of any of these analyses offered by my initial contacts. For often, when people speak about the communicative conduct of others, they are really making statements about their own beliefs and values, their own premises about communication, and about proper communication in particular. By listening to these, and learning what other people like me have found difficult about communication in this place, I can begin to learn a bit more about the norms of communication within the community of expats, mostly workers with large international non-profit groups, and about the points where those norms come into conflict with local Congolese communicative practices. As someone newly arrived in Congo, this approach from the periphery seems like a useful one. And, no, it will not be quick.