Whose faces?

Travel writing and photography are meant to excite the reader and inspire wanderlust; inevitably, however, travelogues reveal far more about their writers than their subjects.  To reread 19th-century accounts of travel in Egypt and Africa is to be appalled at the explorers’ attitudes towards the “simple” people they encountered.  Unfortunately,  the New York Times special photography section, “The Face of Cairo” in last week’s Travel Magazine carries on proudly in the same dated vein.  The feature purports to show us the true people of Cairo’s many neighborhoods but instead presents a photogenic assemblage of wealthy and, well, simple people.

Of the subjects, only a handful of lower-income men and women are shown, and all are employed.  The majority are members of the middle or upper class. These are some of the faces of Cairo, but by no means representative of the majority. The article highlights a small section of the Cairo population and allows them to represent a country where, according to Unicef, there were three Internet users among every 100 citizens in 2002.  Given the Internet’s immense cultural infiltration, this number has no doubt since tripled, but nonetheless, the majority of Cairenes are not wealthy.  The UNDP estimates that a quarter of the country lives below the Egyptian poverty line – which means that by United States standards, a quarter of the country is living in abject and unthinkable poverty.  The Times isn’t representing the faces of Cairo. Instead, it’s representing the faces we want to see to make us feel safer.

In light of recent terrorist attacks in Cairo targeted at tourists, the message of the photos is clear — it’s safe to come visit because we want to be just like you.  And so, ultimately, these photographs reveal far more about what we are seeking when we look to the Middle East than what is truly there.  We seek similarity to assuage our fears  — we want to see that these people look like us, think like us and, most importantly, buy the same things as us.  Over and over again, the men and women featured tell us that their favorite labels are “Louis Vuitton, Dior and Gucci” and that they love Julia Roberts.  When the subjects state otherwise, they are portrayed as unusual and anomalies. Only the three conservatively dressed, veiled girls “have no interest in American culture,” and no Internet.  They also have “no boyfriends or fiancés,” a fact which is presented as a charming piece of piety, when in fact, most Egyptian women do not date and postpone marriage until they have finished university and are more financially stable.

No one benefits from simplifying and homogenizing groups of people; there is no greater impediment to understanding than relying on simplistic stereotypes or, even worse, imagining that everyone everywhere is a version of yourself.  The Times’ photos might ensure that Nile cruise cancellations will be assuaged, but in the long run, we gain nothing from imagining that Cairenes are American wannabees with uncomplicated dreams.  

Laura Louison