Deep-fried tarantulas and other ‘delicacies’: Doing fieldwork in Cambodia

by Tracy Rogers

Chum reap suor!  
When I was asked to write something for the blog about my recent fieldtrip to Cambodia, I had no idea where to actually begin. My recently completed fieldtrip report for my supervisors runs 28 pages long - so clearly I could not use that for this blog post. But what do I write about when there is so much to reflect on after being in a cross-cultural context? 

I could write a totally non-academic blurb about the sights and sounds and smells that I became acutely aware of; just because they were so different from home. Like how I was unable to shut out the sounds of the hundreds of motorised scooters that filled the city air from dawn to dusk; or how the colour red seemed synonymous with the countryside as everything was tainted a rusty red from the dust and red soil of the unsealed roads.

'Strangeness’ is what really differentiates research conducted in a foreign cross-cultural context from research conducted in your own familiar environment. Whilst I often sought out familiar faces, accents, and food during my visit, I also thrived on being an outsider - discovering new tastes and experiences. As a visitor, my outsider identity gave me an opportunity to soak in my surroundings by drawing on all my senses. As a researcher though it afforded both advantages and disadvantages.

The ‘outsider’ advantage of conducting research is that I often took on a less powerful role when working with the study participants. I was the learner; the knowledge-deficit ‘other’ as my lack of local knowledge granted my participants the power to take control and teach me what they knew and had experienced.

The insider/outsider identity is a slippery one according to Tracey Skelton (2009)**. The researcher can move between the two binaries, or at times be both, or neither. I did not consciously negotiate the insider/outsider identity; although the presence of my interpreter/research assistant was a constant reminder that my lack of the local vernacular would always position me as an ‘outsider’ during my time in Cambodia.

I would not have been able to bridge the gap created by my ‘differentness’ if it weren’t for my interpreter/research assistant, Theary*. Theary* was crucial in me gaining access to the schools and participants, as well as providing me with cultural knowledge, and much needed companionship.

Just as a researcher can move between the insider/outsider identity, so too can an interpreter. An interpreter’s insider/outsider identity is based on her/his status within the community that is being researched. Theary was an insider in the community, yet her role as my research assistant and interpreter differentiated her from the other participants. Based on my early reflections, these differences did not appear to negatively affect the rapport that we managed to establish with the participants.

I think there are a few reasons why this may be the case. Firstly, Theary is an incredibly generous, friendly, and intelligent young woman, who was able to clearly explain the aims of my project to the participants. She was also able to talk to the participants in a non-threatening way so that they felt comfortable to ask questions and express their views. 

Theary also emphasised that I was interested in hearing what these young women had to say about their educational journey. As a result, the time and dedication that the participants put into each stage of the data collection process was quite remarkable.

 

The final reason I think...though I am not so sure how significant it is...is that instead of shying away from things (like I often do) I had decided to engage positively with everyone I met. I thought that if I could ask these young women to reveal their personal stories, then the least I could do was participate as fully as possible when invited. 

So when I was shown around a local school, I joined in a skipping rope game under the baking sun with school girls more than half my age. I attempted (quite unsuccessfully) to learn a traditional bamboo stick dance – much to the amusement of the audience and dancers. I cycled across the famous bumpy bamboo bridge and visited ancient temples guarded by troops of monkeys. I shared research experiences with other novice researchers from far flung countries. I swam with locals in a freshwater spring literally in the middle of nowhere. And I made life-long friends with my research assistant and ate lunch with Theary’s family in her remote rural home.

Lastly, on the last day, I also almost tasted the local delicacies of deep-fried tarantula (see the picture below!) and boiled embryonic duckling eggs. But by then, my outsider identity felt I had tried quite enough new experiences for one trip. So perhaps when I return, I may consider trying some more tastes, smells, sights, and experiences.

[All photos remain the property of the Author: Tracy Rogers]

* Not her real name. Theary is a Khmer name meaning helper or aide.

** Skelton, T. (2009). Cross-Cultural Research. In R. Kitchin & N. Thrift (Eds.), International encyclopedia of human geography. (pp. 398-403). Amsterdam: Elsevier Science.

 

Looking back at the post-doc journey

This week we have a guest post by an academic who has stitched post-doc contracts into a career that provides a desired work-life balance. 
(Name withheld, but known to editors).
 

So you’ve finally graduated with your PhD…. now what? Well, believe it or not, there is life after a PhD, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be a full-time position in academia.

I was perhaps unusual in doing a PhD, as I started for fun (yes, fun!) and personal interest, rather than with the goal of a career. My final year was a whirlwind of tying up loose ends: book in a time to graduate, finish off my tutoring contract, sort through the endless amounts of paper generated over the years (it’s amazing how unimportant those articles are once you’re all done and dusted – I filled the recycling bin!), and generally go through a mourning period as I adjusted to life beyond.

Yes, that’s right I mourned. I went through all the typical stages: 

• Shock & denial
• That such vital part of my life for so long had ended so suddenly, and it does end suddenly. One day working over 8 hours to polish the last parts, the next day it’s like hitting a brick wall – that’s how sudden an ending it is when you hand in. You feel lost.
  

• Anger
• I was angry at the system (no jobs), and in part angry at myself for handing in - I could have done more! I wanted a job darn it! I had  slogged for years, proved myself, and yet no, it wasn’t to be. So my anger was both directed outwards and inwards. Which is quite funny really. I did not start a PhD in the hope of having an academic career, yet here I was angry because I wasn’t having one! What was wrong with me? (Eventually I shook off the anger….but it’s still amusing to reflect on years later.)

• Bargaining
• I submitted my thesis for examination towards the end of one academic year, and got it back five months later at the beginning of a new academic year. I took a few days to do the changes and wondered what to do for the rest of the year after writing some articles...I know, I’ll tutor both semesters! I realise that I was delaying the inevitable ‘leaving of the nest’, but back then I think I was still hopeful for a job. Still hopeful that I could prove myself. If I could go back in time, I’d probably tell myself to just leave and make a clean break.

• Depression and Reflection 

• Ohhhh this so goes with the bargaining above! Although I say I’d tell my past self to just leave, that year was actually quite useful in terms of reflecting on all I’d been through. Plus, it was a useful transition winding down from academic thinking ( the joy at being able to read a ‘normal’ book without analysing it like I’d been doing for years was pure bliss!). One thing to take note of: you’ve trained your body and mind for a couple of years to work at a high pace, then you just stop…it does take time to adjust to a lower level of intensity. It is a shock to the system, I don’t know whether I was depressed, but I did feel down sometimes because I was no longer working on something big.

• Acceptance         

• That it was time to move on - that hit me sometime in the second semester after it was clear there were no jobs coming up. I still had some tutoring and marking to do, so I worked out the last day of my contract, circled it on my wall calendar to give myself an incentive…and knuckled down to finish with a flourish. Cleaning out my office on the last day was really cathartic…not that there was much to get rid of by then.

So life goes on. Ironically, since my leaving I have ended up being asked to do some contract work at the university. Over the last few years I’ve done research, transcribed, developed questionnaires, written articles, polished articles, written reports, and polished reports. I’ve contract marked for various papers in multiple departments, and undertaken comprehensive literature searches for staff looking at writing a paper, but with no time to sort through the chaos that is out there in journals. I work for staff who have previously employed me, as well as those who get my name through word of mouth. Such jobs can range in duration from being merely a week to being occupied for over a year.

I have a more varied life now post doc, than I ever had before. Plus there is a certain amount of freedom in being able to pick and choose the work I want to do (and that I find interesting) and when I want to do it (yes, they fit in around my schedule, not the other way round!). In a nutshell I get to live my life as I see fit, and go play part-time in academia. For the moment it’s the best of both worlds

I’ve made a niche for myself. A niche that works for me. A niche that other completed PhDs sitting around twiddling their thumbs, asking themselves “what now?” might find appealing. Certainly, if you Google “what to do after the PhD” you’ll find numerous sites all detailing what that person did, and the stages of ‘grief’ that they went through after realising that an academic career may not eventuate immediately, or even at all (for instance, see this recent post at the Thesis Whisperer - Ed). It seems that increasingly a PhD won't lead to a full-time academic career - but sometimes what you end up with turns out to be better than you expected.

More than a 'talkfest'

 by Keely Blanch, Kim Brown, Rafaella, Sarah Bartley, Maxine, Shannon, Byron, Prof. John Tarter, and Dr. Keryn Pratt.

This post is a collaborative effort from the last session of our research symposium. We asked the attendees at this final session to join us in blogging about what they had taken from the day. 

We've put this post together after spending the day at the inaugural UOCE Education Graduate Research Symposium. Kim Brown has written in the previous post about the value of research symposia as a way of drawing upon collective knowledge to iron out some of the issues in your research. As she noted in her post, Kim saw this concept in action in another department and, luckily for us, imported it into the UOCE.

As well as providing an opportunity to discuss our research, the 'talkfest' let us meet new people, hear about a variety of research topics and approaches, and create a collegial atmosphere. We've already started discussing when we will repeat the experience later in the year - although there are a few points noted by the experienced academic researchers who attended.

Kim:

Finding commonality of experience takes effort. To learn that there are people encountering similar dilemmas or challenges means making the time to listen. Talking about research with peers and academics does not avoid asking the hard questions, but provides the opportunity to ask in a supportive way. 

Rafa: 

It has been a very fruitful experience because the forum gave me the opportunity to debate issues of my research and gave new perspectives for my research problem. In addition, discussing other people's studies provided me with numerous methodological insights.

Sarah:

Today was a great opportunity to hear the 'process' and journey and pain of the other postgrads. It gave me a real sense that I wasn't alone in my struggles with the aspects of research like methods design and question design. As a new research student, it is easy to get the impression that everyone else has it all sorted. 

Maxine:

I found today helped me consolidate some of my thinking and provided me with new ideas to consider in my research. I thought today was timely to get me back into study for the year. It was also a good time to reconnect with people and share ideas about a range of different topics. 

Shannon:

The research forum today was a good use of time as it sparked new questions and introduced other ideas and methodologies which could be applied to my own thesis. The informal nature of the setting (around the table, not standing up in front of others) and the varied methods of sharing ideas (writing/ pairs/ chatting/ discussing) added to the ease in which ideas could be discussed. Great coffee and food too!

Byron:

Benefits included the identification of a research community of people on the same path; sharing of ideas and troubleshooting, but always allowing me to reflect on my own research. The topics may not all be linked, but methodologies, theories etc could be exactly what you're looking for; friendly faces that you now feel you can ask, "Hey, where is....?" or "How do I....?"; a chance to 'escape' journal articles, library shelves and office space for the day. 

John:

Some tips: in presenting a study, use a theoretical framework - why would one expect a given outcome from a study? The question presupposes a rationale that argues for the 'so what' of a study; give a conceptual definition of the idea being considered and if possible, an operational one as well; research should try to look at the relationship between two variables at a minimum.

Keryn:

It's been great to have an informal opportunity (i.e. not lots of preparation) to get feedback from people in a wide variety of areas/ expertise.There is a danger though that it could be distracting/ confusing to students, especially those new to the research process!

Keely:

There is a risk when introducing something new that the proposed concept may not be clear, and thus not valued as a beneficial form of research engagement. I admit that, even though I had seen a similar format of this in action as an observer, I underestimated the benefits of participating in a symposium. I would say that I am now convinced that no matter how far through the research/thesis process you are, a symposium like this can be helpful. For instance, the discussion in response to my question was robust (and at times put me on the spot!), and the points raised initially mirrored what I had been reading and writing about. However, I also came away with new leads, new phrasing to search, and questions that hold implications for my data analysis. It can be easy in thesis study to become immersed in our narrow fields of knowledge. For me, the research symposium allowed me to draw upon the collective knowledge of people with different theoretical frameworks, methodological understandings, and research experiences.

Research symposia- when a talkfest is good!

By Kim Brown

I recently took part in a two-day research symposium with fellow postgrads, researchers and academics and spent the whole time talking. Yes, two whole days talking! To be fair there were periods when I listened or ate something, but the majority of the time was spent engaged in discussion, problem solving and debate. It was great. I am six months into my PhD, not long enough to know differently, yet already I would describe a distinct managerial tone to the doctoral process. By managerial I mean an emphasis on productivity measured in units of time and incremental research outputs: “set milestones working backwards from anticipated hand-in date”, “write daily for X number of minutes’, “publish publish publish” (so firmly established as a research mantra that the verb now exists in triplicate), “attend conferences”, and so on. Of course, this is all sound advice intended to support prompt completion of the PhD and an academic trajectory, but it feels like the nasty tasting medicine that is supposed to do you good. In such a managerial environment of study, the prospect of two days simply talking and listening may fill some with horror. Fear not, I will endeavour to explain why attending a peer talkfest is time well spent.

For the symposium I attended, each participant had an allocated 20-minute slot, with a maximum of seven minutes talking to the group, PowerPoint presentations were banned and timings strictly enforced. Participants tended to give a brief overview of their research and then presented a research issue, conundrum or dilemma to the whole group. Most participants asked their peers to respond to the given question/issue in smaller groupings, taking feedback in various ways. Participants regularly moved to a new seat around a large table arrangement, enabling (or forcing) people to meet and work with others. The format of the day included generous breaks and good food – both conducive to productive and amiable conversation. If the absence of PowerPoint presentations has not already sold you on the idea of this type of symposium, let me expand upon the benefits.

I was unsure of what to expect so had not prepared for my slot, I did, nevertheless, have a few gnarly research issues plaguing my research design that I could share. I am studying peer learning practices amongst doctoral students, and despite a successful pilot study, I couldn’t quite nail the crux of my overarching research question. And then it came to me, sitting in a room of collective expertise, confusion and collaboration. What I am really interested in is how doctoral students cultivate collegiality in an academic environment. Not quite a eureka moment, but very confirming in terms of locating my research. When my turn came, I was able to ask people to describe what characterises collegiality in a scholarly community. Enough about me however! We got to hear about other people’s research as it was happening in down-to-earth terms.

 

The symposium offered the means for all members of the department equally to seek ideas, insight and feedback. In our time regulated everyday environments, snatched conversations at sites of productive encounters (that’s the water cooler/heater) can be very helpful. The colloquium environment supported breadth and critical engagement with diverse responses. Creativity is often paired with critical thinking in the doctoral toolbox; Vygotsky proposed that creativity is a process by which individuals learn to face conflicts and contradictions, and to focus on future objects or trajectories. Drawing on collective creativity we can rework and process these issues, illuminating and elevating everyday experience. In other words, it was fun, useful and supportive!  

Research symposia take many forms. I have attended formal symposia that involved conventional presentations with the associated pressure to perform. To describe this symposium as informal is perhaps a disservice, since I would be comparing a developmental and collegial environment to a rarefied, and some would say competitive, academic forum. A developmental research symposium is time-well spent because it is demanding of thought and effort, it’s a talkfest where responses are immediate and there’s nothing wrong with a little instant gratification.

We are in the process of organising a postgrad developmental research symposium in the second department I’m associated with, look out for the follow-up blogpost.

Holidays anyone?

by Keely Blanch

This is the last post for the year. Christmas is nigh! The campus is shutting down for the Christmas/New Year period and in these last few days before Christmas, the big question is of course what people are doing over the break.  

As a postgrad it can be easy to be sucked into working everyday, especially if we take work home. But it can be good to get a break to recharge the batteries - for instance, check out this post on work-life balance in academia: Escaping the ivory tower- if only for a little while.  For those who have children on holiday from school and needing minding, the choice of taking some sort of holiday may be made for you. 

This year I am again taking a few weeks to unwind and catch up on a bit of reading along the way. I have a long list of ebooks waiting to be read, including some of the free New Zealand fiction available through meBooks, so I won't get bored. 

Queued on my ereader is this gem offering insights into the postgraduate journey in NZ - Postgraduate study in Aotearoa New Zealand

If you want to check it out first, Chapter 5 in which Martyn Davison writes about his experiences of writing, is free on the website under the preview tab. 

Here's hoping you all get a chance to have a break from the thesis for a few days!
 

Wishing a safe and happy holidays to everyone. 

We'll be back in the New Year!

> The PG Lives blog writers will be taking a small break for a few weeks, but we'll be back with a new post on January 21st, 2015. In the meantime you can check out our Twitter feed @PGLives, or our public Postgraduate Lives Facebook page for odd items of interest we'll share through the season.

> Previewing 2015 - keep an eye out for posts next year reviewing how Paul Silvia's writing methods have worked for us; coming to grips with your data; Tales from Cambodia - researching overseas; conferencing 101- tips and tricks; (re)motivating yourself, and more!

December distractions

by Keely Blanch

One of the perils of writing for a blog is that life can get busy, and suddenly it's the day before the scheduled post and you have to produce something, anything! 

In some ways, I guess that makes a blog a bit like a thesis: it seems to be all about the writing, there are deadlines that sneak up on you, much coffee is drunk along the way, and some days you can feel that nobody is ever going to read it. And just like the thesis, blog writing can be difficult when the sun is shining and you just want to be outside enjoying a glorious summer (- those reading from Dunedin are probably laughing on the floor right about now). Yes, I've resorted to writing about the weather.... that's one thing that hasn't gone in my thesis!

 

It's almost Christmas break. Decorations have been up in the shops for weeks, even months! The Santa parade in Dunedin has been and gone on yet another chilly Dunedin Sunday. The campus appears deserted (although maybe that's due to the weather). Without the bustle of the numerous undergrads the place can seem a bit lonely and sad (although it is much easier to get parking!). Meanwhile, postgrads around the campus are frantically trying to finish chapters and meet deadlines before the campus closes over the break, staff are grabbing the chance to work on their own research, and preparations are underway for Summer School and other courses to start in early January.

Up in the Tower, the postgrads at College are both home and away. Some have grabbed the chance to take holidays early, some have headed home to work, some have headed off to collect data (look out for Tracy's Tales from Cambodia coming next year), and the rest of us are huddled in offices over keyboards working on ethics applications and chapters. 

It's not all work and no play up here though. In our breaks, we've been pondering the important questions - who invented cheese rolls?* will it be sunny over Christmas?** What should we have for Christmas dinner?*** What is that breed of bird we can see by the Leith?**** Will I have time to watch the entire season 8 of Dr Who over Christmas?***** (for answers to these life-changing questions, see below).

The internet also provides some extra distraction from thesis (and blog post) writing. If you're not on Twitter, do consider joining as it is a great way to stalk keep track of researchers and other PhDs in your field. It also throws up interesting gems, such as this seasonal suggestion for your (old) thesis drafts - 

#AcademicXmas: Cut up your old drafts to make snowflakes! #draftflakes #phdchat #ecrchat @thesiswhisperer @PhDForum pic.twitter.com/nf08pncRxq
— Academia Obscura (@AcademiaObscura) December 8, 2014

Search the #AcademicXmas or #CampusChristmas tags on Twitter and you can admire festive cheer from academics around the world. 

Got a few books lying around? How about trying this -

@ldunlop unless it looks like THIS one. #academicXmas #notmine pic.twitter.com/aix4buLb
— Laine Pond (@laddie) December 11, 2011

or if you don't want to sacrifice that many books and you think the library might get antsy if you use theirs -

Our Xmas tree with Xmas wishes of our postgrads (academic success & more coffee) #CampusChristmas @timeshighered pic.twitter.com/DUtOzyZBI9
— Fatos Eren Bilgen (@ErenBilgen) December 8, 2014

So why not join Twitter and share your Christmas cheer.  Perhaps the wonderful people at Otago GRS (@OtagoGRS) could share a few of our campus' efforts on their twitter feed?

The last post for the year wll be a little early because of Christmas, so keep an eye out and have fun decorating! 

Now where are those old drafts.....

-------------------------------------------------------------

Because I know you really want to know...
* Who invented cheese rolls? No idea, but there's a history available at the fount of all knowledge, Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheese_roll
** Will it be sunny over Christmas? This depends entirely on the answer to the next question....
*** What should we have for Christmas dinner? This decision is known to have a strong influence upon local weather conditions for our household - this year we are having roast chicken thus necessitating the oven heating up the house for a prolonged period. Ergo, the  weather is bound to be hot and sunny and contribute to making the house unbearably hot. You're welcome. 
**** The bird was a white-faced blue heron
***** Are you kidding? It's Dr Who! I shall make time.