The Orientalist and the Local

An orientalist (O) in pith helmet, jodspurs, and riding crop, carrying a manual in his hand, tours an eastern city. He meets a local man (L) in traditional dress.

O.  Ah, yes, a local! Where are you from, dear man?

L.  I am from Nablus.

O.  Hmm. (flips through his manual, which contains colored illustrations of traditional dress) Why, no, that’s impossible! You are dressed like a man of Sinai. The natives of Nablus dress thusly. (shows the local his colored plates)

L.  Even so, I am from Nablus.

O.  Then, sir, you are incorrectly attired. Your headdress is wrong, don’t you see? And your belt, it should be black. Either that, or you are a liar.

L.  (a bit heatedly) I should know where I am from!

O.  (turning away) These people are as innocent as children. No logic or reason in their actions. They can’t tell black from white, wouldn’t recognize their own mothers — they are impossible!

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