The Case of the Recurring Wodaabe: Visual Obsessions in Globalizing Markets
2018; UCLA James S. Coleman African Studies Center; Volume: 51; Issue: 1 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1162/afar_a_00390
ISSN1937-2108
Autores Tópico(s)Postcolonial and Cultural Literary Studies
ResumoThe Wodaabe people of the Sahel have been the subject of over seventeen documentary films—indeed, in both 1988 and 2007, three were released (Table 1). Filmmakers from Robert Gardner and Werner Herzog to National Geographic to individual researchers have turned their lenses on Wodaabe life, particularly their visually spectacular geerewol and yaake dances (Figs. 1–2). Likewise, Wodaabe have featured in sumptuous coffee table books (Fig. 3), the cover of National Geographic, Elle magazine, a World Bank brochure, advertising, CD and album covers. Their images have inspired painters and appeared on canvas bags, mugs, and mouse pads (Figs. 4–5). This concentration on the Wodaabe—a seeming visual obsession—is striking given the great diversity of culture and performance on the African continent.Wodaabe are a pastoral Fulani group of roughly 100,000 people, sometimes known as Bororo.1 Most live in Niger, where they are denigrated and marginalized for their nomadic life and non-Islamic religion. Wodaabe are known particularly for their geerewol and yaake performances, which occur during annual rainy season gatherings. Both involve competitions between young men from two lineages and moieties and selection of the most beautiful dancers (Fig. 6). Since 1950 the dances have also been performed as entertainment and cultural spectacle for various audiences.This paper considers questions related to these recurring images but it is only partly about Wodaabe. It is more about the circulation, proliferation, and reframing of cultural images and about cultural obsession. But the obsessions are ours, even though presented as theirs. I will sketch the process of proliferation and the story of how this global Wodaabe cornucopia came about.Wodaabe films, books, and images have circulated in Europe, the US, and African countries.2 Wodaabe themselves have performed internationally in France, Denmark, Belgium, Spain, Canada, Morocco, Burkina Faso, and other African and European countries, as a warm-up group for Baaba Mal in Paris (Boesen 2008a:159) and at Eurodisney (Lassibille 2006:116). In Niger, they perform for visiting dignitaries, heads of state, and tourists, at agricultural shows, and an annual post-Ramadan celebration in the Niamey sports stadium (Loftsdóttir 2008:178). Tourists, journalists, diplomats, and expatriate aid workers attend dances that Wodaabe organize for themselves outside town settings (Boesen 2008a:147, 153; Bovin 1998:106–108, 2001:60; Lassibille 2006, 2009; Loftsdóttir 2002:12, 2008:178, 194). The Wodaabe-Tuareg musical group Etran Finatawa also incorporates dress from the dances when they perform their "nomad blues" (Fig. 7), touring in Europe, North and South America, Australia, and west, south, and central Africa.3 In short, Wodaabe dance and images have gained widespread international currency over the last sixty-five years and might now be considered a global phenomenon.The proliferation and spread of Wodaabe imagery and performances offer a way to understand how cultural resources—in this case visual representations, people, and performances—circulate in global economies. The Wodaabe case highlights complications and convolutions in those disparate circulations and social processes and shows how they can entwine across locales and scales. African art is no stranger to the marketplace, but the Wodaabe case points to transformations in how markets are defined, how interconnections and circulations work, and how cultural resources—knowledge, products, and practice—are involved in creative production. Transformations might be local, regional, cross-regional, international, multinational, and at times global, with conjunctions that produce collaborations, debates, tensions, and conflicts of many sorts, with positive and negative outcomes (Kratz and Karp 2006:2; Karp, Kratz et al. 2006).These shifts, recontextualizations, reinterpretations, and interactions might lead to a range of transformations and changes. Formal changes include Wodaabe circle dances restaged in lines facing European festival audiences and framed by a presenter (Lassibille 2006:120–122; Loftsdóttir 2008:195), or mixing dress and make-up styles, genders, and generations in tourist performances (Lassibille 2009:328; Loftsdóttir 2008:195).4 Structural changes include expansion of Wodaabe performance venues to towns, agricultural shows, and international settings, coordination with tourist itineraries, and articulations with market processes. Processual changes often encompass transformed social relations: shifts in production as lineage associations organize tour performances or the new annual Assembly begun in 2004; in brokerage relations and new transnational networks linking performances and development projects; in monetization through photography fees and jewelry sales; and of course, in commodification of images (Lassibille 2006, 2009; Loftsdóttir 2008).5Scholars have analyzed such phenomena by focusing on particular globalizing processes and domains, using models of layered motion to conceptualize systems and networks where parts move, intersect, and transform in different ways. This includes work on marketing identity and tourism and analyses of the politics and production of heritage that show how metacultural processes in self-presentation reshape relations to one's own culture, traditions, and practice (Stanley 1998; Comaroff and Comaroff 2009; Geismar 2013; Kirshenblatt-Gimblett 1998, 2006; Witz 2012; Franquesa 2013; Peterson et al. 2015). Also important is work on intellectual property and on financial arrangements and creative production in world music and indigenous art, where ideologies and ontologies of design, property, and ethnicity might clash (Feld 1996, 2000; Brown 2003; Meintjes 2003; Seeger and Chaudhuri 2004; Myers 2005; Sanga 2010; Karp and Kratz 2015). Mobilities and cultural transformations are also addressed in work on cosmopolitanisms and on migration and refugees—a status Wodaabe experienced during dire droughts (Appiah 2006, 2007; Cheah and Robbins 1998).Scholars take different stances on globalizing-localizing dynamics, finding both exploitative cultural imperialism and empowering situations that offer economic opportunities and promote cultural diversity and understanding. Steve Feld identifies these contrasting anxious or celebratory representations in writing about globalization, increasingly in tense combination (2000:153–54). We could stage this like a debate on erstwhile host Jon Stewart's The Daily Show, with t-shirts for anxious Team Exploitation, celebratory Team Empowerment, and a third, Team Local Conditions, that emphasizes how these dynamics work within local politics of ethnicity and nation. A variant, call it Team Multilocal Conditions, traces social processes and transformations across sites, situating actors and dynamics in varied situations (Kratz and Karp 2006). The debate format might suggest one team wins, but the more subtle understanding would recruit them all.Yet while the Wodaabe phenomenon clearly entails a far-flung distribution of images and performances based on equally wide-reaching international interactions, most films, popular photo books, and performances are framed by a different narrative. They present a different Wodaabe, described as traditional, unchanging, authentic, "people of the taboo"—not people embedded in global economies who perform internationally. Their culture is portrayed as ancient, connected to rock paintings in the region, and their nomadic life and lack of permanent housing underline exotic contrasts.6 Some late 1980s films comment on recent droughts and Wodaabe movement to towns and refugee camps, framed as endangered cultures. This template is all too familiar, and far from unique to Wodaabe. Deconstructing stereotypes of timelessness, isolation, primitivism and disappearance is the starting place for analyzing representations of African societies and other seemingly "exotic others." But that doesn't seem to change the images and representations much.The Wodaabe proliferation is notable, then, but not unique. Just looking in the film collection at Emory University, where I work, I found a dozen films about Maasai and eighteen about Zulu. Both have long representational histories that include trade cards, stereographs, staged popular presentations, films, photo books, games, and advertising (Kratz and Gordon 2002:250; Sobania 2002; Smith 2013) (Figs. 8–9). It is precisely through such dispersed but ubiquitous repetition—crossing media, formats, and contexts—that stereotypes and archetypes are reproduced and perpetuated, often casting pastoralists in the romanticized, "noble savage" slot.7Yet two things are striking about the Wodaabe films and images. First, they have marked thematic consistency. Emory's eighteen Zulu films focus on health and healing, religion, migrant labor, history, and music, with several feature films; Maasai films have a similar range. But while the twelve Wodaabe films I've seen offer general ethnographic portraits, with just one exception, young men's dances are prominent visually and thematically. Dance preparations or performances are on screen half the time in some, a quarter of the time in others, and 10–15 percent in a few that explicitly survey Wodaabe or Fulani life. Even films with lower total screen times, though, emphasize dance images by using them as dramatic start and climactic finale. The way the dances figure in their verbal narratives adds more emphasis.Second, Wodaabe seem a more recent addition to the cast of cultures in this imaginary of otherness. I found very few early occurrences tracing Wodaabe images back to explorers, colonial government documentation, postcards, or stereographs; only two—likely from the 1920s–1930s (Figs. 10–11)—came up when I followed postcard auctions for a few months. Fulani were known and pictured on colonial postcards, as were Tuareg (cf. Loftsdóttir 2008:48, n.21), but scholars with extensive knowledge of stereographs and colonial postcards of Africa could not recall early images of Wodaabe dancers like those now so widespread.8 In the early twentieth century, Wodaabe images were not circulating widely, marking a distinctive, visually striking identity. If we think about the now recurrent images as one of many such proliferations, then, the Wodaabe case provides a visually focused way to unravel how they went from invisible, virtually nonexistent, to ubiquitous. That story illuminates how the broad imaginary of otherness has been reproduced and perpetuated.Popular primitivism and exoticism are historical phenomena with diverse visual histories. They include visual proliferations occurring at different times, under different conditions, with varied trajectories. Yet while cases differ, at the same time they are part of a shared history, drawing upon related ideas and processes. In reconstructing this story, the Wodaabe episode, I identify structural features of visual proliferations where cultural resources circulate in global economies.9 The process seems to have four components, though the fascination with Wodaabe images is overdetermined by coinciding cultural, political, economic, and visual factors.First, there may be enabling factors, local conditions that draw attention to certain images or practices. Second, a set of associations, affinities, resonances, and logics pave the way for potential extralocal reception and popularity, creating what I call a "receptive imaginary." A particular cultural practice or group seems to provide a link, a contrast, or a translation of familiar practices or values relevant to those who become an audience. These imaginative contexts bridge cultural difference and motivate interest for viewers. The third component consists of particular conjunctures—cultural, historical, and political economic conditions that together create circumstances congenial to those resonances and logics being activated on a wide scale. Finally, there are sparks—precipitating events, objects, or encounters that catapult the images into a wider range of settings and uses, igniting wider circulation. Of course, these four aspects overlap, interact, and blur.Let me now tell the story of how this Wodaabe-rama developed, as I've pieced it together. The story has gaps, missing episodes, absent actors and events, and unknown connections—almost every story of transnational circulation will. But tracing the process may be suggestive.Among enabling factors are the importance and cultural salience that yaake and geerewol competitions hold for Wodaabe themselves (Bovin 2001:46–48, 50, 52; Boesen 2008a:151–52) (Fig. 12). Being a beautiful dancer is a topic of Wodaabe proverbs and the object of much work; it brings fame for winners, nostalgic memories for others (Bovin 2001:40, 44, 52). Boesen calls the dances "the core of communal aesthetico-ritual self-experience" (2008a:160). Likewise, others in the region recognize the arresting spectacle of Wodaabe dances (Bocquené 2002:153–54).The associations, affinities, resonances, and logics that created a "receptive imaginary" for Wodaabe images combine three interwoven aspects. First, as noted, is the extensive set of images related to the West's popular primitivism, emphasizing "isolated tribes" and exotic practices. With those images and their genealogies goes the second: the more specific, longstanding romance with the figure of the pastoralist as an independent, sometimes mysterious individualist. Certain ethnic groups became regional exemplars—Maasai, Zulu, Himba (Kratz and Gordon 2002).10 But these were semi-nomadic peoples, agro-pastoralists, and the Zulu were also a kingdom. The nomad represented the "purest" version of this romantic figure.11 Indeed the first Wodaabe film and book I've found, by Henry Brandt, is called Nomades du Soleil (see Fig. 3), and the nomad identification threads through films and popular books. Tuareg had been the better-known nomad exemplar in west Africa, with a representational history of colonial postcards and display at the 1907 Colonial Exhibition.12 When Wodaabe performed in Europe nearly a century later, audiences and festival organizers confused the two and thought they were booking Tuareg, citing notions of "blue-men" and nomadic purity (Lassibille 2006:119, 125).The pastoral nomad figure provided an episteme and template that easily fit Wodaabe images, defining expectations that helped propel them into wide circulation.13 Wodaabe epitomized the figure, the most nomad of nomads. Films emphasize their frequent movements and lack of shelters (though a camp is highly structured by gender and age [Stenning 1959:106; Bovin 2001:62–65]). National Geographic's 2007 film describes their home "at the heart of the Sahel" and a Fulani autobiography remarks that Jafun Fulani see Wodaabe as "the most bush of the bush-men" (Bocquené 2002:158). Just as Wodaabe seem to heighten notions associated with the nomad, dance images of young men present the most exotic face of Wodaabe (Pyper 1998:2). Their widespread popularity simultaneously heightens and narrows the representation, narrowing the Wodaabe identity that becomes known while creating "larger-than-life representations that take on a life of their own" (Kratz and Gordon 2002:256).This links to the third aspect of the receptive imaginary, based on the visual spectacle of geerewol and yaake dances themselves. These striking, beautiful, and graceful scenes visually feed notions of the exotic and are embedded in descriptions that foreground exotic customs and sexual liaisons, giving the images particular gendered spins (Kratz and Gordon 2002:248). The spin builds on gender dislocations from a Euro-American perspective: Are the dancers male or female? Photos and films capitalize on the ambiguity. To our eyes, geerewol and yaake invert and echo our own pageants and rituals of gender: beauty contests, voguing, cross-dressing, and flirtatious adornment and seduction. Though based on glaring cross-cultural misreadings, these are the memorable images eventually recycled in the media, magazine advertising, commercials for McDonalds, and elsewhere. I return to this later, but now to the first conjuncture.The dances' local cultural salience and the ways Wodaabe invoked Euro-American popular primitivism, nomadophilia, and gender fascinations set the stage for particular conjunctures and sparks to come together. There are two chapters, two conjunctures and sparks to consider. The first starts in the 1950s, with a confluence of new attention to Wodaabe in research, documentation, and prominent performances.Professional anthropological research with Wodaabe started in the early 1950s (Table 2), when the International African Institute commissioned research by Derrick Stenning in Nigeria, Marguerite Dupire in Niger and Cameroon (1962), and C.E. Hopen on pastoral Fulani in Nigeria (Forde 1959:ix–x). At the same time, Jean Gabus, director of the Swiss Musée d'Ethnographie de Neuchâtel, sent filmmaker Henry Brandt to Niger for six months (Fig. 13). Brandt produced Nomades du Soleil, the first film about Wodaabe, and then a book by the same name, the first of five Wodaabe film-book pairings over the years.14 This cluster of researchers defined two strands of work which continue to the present, with markedly different trajectories of circulation.The first focused on history, social structure, cultural ecology, marriage, and politics (Stenning, Dupire, Hopen) and has circulated mainly in scholarly circles. Some facets are taken up in development work, which is how this strand took visual form. Habbanaae, a 1979 film strip-cassette program produced by Oxfam, described a herd reconstitution program based on Wodaabe cattle lending practices (Scott and Gormley 1980). This interesting didactic piece recycles tropes of nomadic freedom and includes images of camps, sandstorms, Wodaabe portraits, lots of livestock shots, drought scenes of cattle bones, and a thin refugee.15 Dance images are totally absent, and Wodaabe are described as "known … for their special love of animals" (Oxfam 1979: frame 26), not for dances or beauty contests. Given the format, topic, and producer, I think Habbanaae had limited circulation. Notably, though, Stenning's book also pays little attention to geerewol and yaake dances, devoting to them just two paragraphs (1959:157). The introduction to a new edition in 1994, when these images were widely known, puzzles over this (Burnham 1994:xii–xiii).The other research strand, represented in the 1950s by Henry Brandt, has been heavily visualized.16 It too presented an ethnographic portrait of social relations, marriage, and the importance of domestic herds. Brandt's book has poetic descriptions of Wodaabe life across seasons. As in the Habbanaae film-tape, Brandt first notes the "passion that binds them closely to their large herds of black zebu cattle" (Brandt 1956:5, my translation); the film narration says cattle are their reason for living. Beauty is not the immediate focus, but rainy season gatherings and young men's dance images are the book's climax, with fold-out color images in a largely black-and-white book (Fig. 14). Brandt's film parallels the book's structure, with dance images first appearing 25 minutes into the 44 minute film.Brandt's final section includes themes familiar from the subsequent flood of Wodaabe films and books, but there are telling differences. After a dance scene with young men and women alike, young women feature and the first discussion of beauty is accompanied by pictures of young women. The geerewol gathering follows, with descriptions of dress and adornment similar to recent ones, but young women and men alike are described as beautifying themselves (Fig. 15). The film likewise balances images of young men and women. Other emphases also differ. The dance is a "solemn presentation of young men, the strange beauty contest that opposes several lineages [called tribes]" (Brandt 1956:107), but the contest aspect returns only later, after evocative portrayals that stress the songs' hypnotic effect. Finally, Brandt's book does not sexualize the event like more recent depictions. He uses the word "seduction" just once, about catching the judge's eye. His demure version of what happens next explains that couples come together for verbal jousting, for eloquent speaking is also valued. He goes on, "What happens next, only the Bororo and the night know. But it is certain that one does not go much beyond long amorous discussion, and great reserve rules the attitude of each couple" (Brandt 1956:134, my translation). These differences seem small, but given how uniform later representations are, Brandt's more balanced gender treatment, attention to song, and lack of emphasis on sexual encounters is distinctive.Jean Rouch calls Nomades du Soleil a classic and counts Brandt among the handful of pioneers at the time, as 16 mm format and synchronous sound recording forged a technological revolution in portability that made possible the combined role of ethnographer-filmmaker (2003:57, 34–35, 269–70). I don't know how widely it was shown. Rouch says "it has never been distributed commercially" (2003:57; cf. Gardner 2006:184), but it certainly registered on later authors, filmmakers, and presumably other viewers. I see Brandt's film and book as the spark in this 1950s conjuncture, important vehicles through which Wodaabe images began to circulate more widely.The film received an award at the Lucarno film festival in 1955, impressed viewers at a 1955 showing at the Musée de l'Homme organized by Rouch, and was screened in Belgium by the Comité International du Film Ethnographique (DAV 2010:4; de Heusch 2007:367, 370). Stenning's monograph footnotes it with admiration (1959:157), and missionary Père Henri Bocquené saw it at a cinema in 1962, his "first 'visual' contact with this unknown world" (2002:xiv). Brandt's film and book are cited as inspiration or source by the next cluster of researcher/filmmakers who worked with Wodaabe in the 1970s or early 1980s, the second conjuncture of this story.For instance, Robert Gardner saw Brandt's film in the late 1950s (Gardner 2006:184). In 1971, seven years before filming Deep Hearts (1981), he said,Likewise Danish anthropologist Mette Bovin mentions the film (1974–75:466) and Brandt's book is noted in the 1983 book Nomads of Niger by photographer Carol Beckwith and Belgian anthropologist Marion van Offelen (1983:224). Bovin later made two films (1988, 1992) and published the book Nomads Who Cultivate Beauty (2001); Beckwith was involved with three other Wodaabe films.17Brandt's work and images, then, animated the first American-made Wodaabe film decades later and informed the next set of people who figure in the proliferation of Wodaabe images. In tracing image circulation, chapters can be like cycles; they don't always end, but a conjuncture's elements and sparks have a certain reach and period of prominence, even if their traces and influence percolate into later chapters.18 Before turning to the second conjuncture, let me note the final piece of this 1950s conjuncture of attention, an expansion in Wodaabe performance venues.Europeans showed some interest in Wodaabe dances during colonial times. Officials encouraged youth "to form dancing troupes that can be called upon whenever a 'folkloric' display is required for tourists or visiting dignitaries" (Burnham 1994:xii).19 Wodaabe danced on a national stage, however, in 1959, at independence celebrations.20 One reaction suggests they were not yet known widely: "All … present, both Blacks and Whites, agreed on pronouncing that these were the most amazing people they had ever seen" (Wenek 1962a:7, also quoted in Loftsdóttir 2008:192; Wenek 1962b). These performance extensions foreshadowed the international circuits where Wodaabe now perform and helped bring wider notice beyond Niger.The 1980s began the second conjuncture—a second, greater confluence of attention to Wodaabe, including eight new films between 1980 and 1992, influential coffee table books, and two new researchers who worked with visual projects. Things get complicated because Wodaabe images cross into other realms of circulation, including television, and sparks occur in several realms. At the same time, Wodaabe began performing more regularly in Niger for opening ceremonies, agricultural shows, and diplomatic visits, and on national television. Dance troupes also went to Europe, though that was more common after 1990 (Bovin 1998:106–108, 2001:60–61).21Three cultural and political economic shifts in the 1980s bolstered interest, enhancing the receptive imaginary. First, devastating Sahelian droughts in the 1970s and mid-1980s brought attention to the region. After Gardner's Deep Hearts and the short French film La Femme Volée in the early 1980s, the cluster of films from the late 1980s include this ecological theme. Resumption of geerewol gatherings becomes a sign in the environmental drama of recovery. "At the same time, the Wodaabe were also 'discovered' in their own country" (Boesen 2008a:147) when large numbers arrived in urban centers during droughts, and many incorporated "seasonal urban activities" into their pastoral rounds.Second, the politics of gender and sexuality had changed since the 1950s. By the 1980s, feminist and gay politics had entered mainstream social discourse and visual culture in Europe and the US22 and Wodaabe films and books began foregrounding gender and sexuality in geerewol interpretations (cf. Pyper 1998:3). The relative gender balance in Brandt's book, with little overt sexualization, gives way to strong emphasis on geerewol, sexual encounters, and gender misreadings. Let me review how films of this period handle this theme before discussing the third shift and the sparks of this conjuncture.Gardner spent a month in Niger in 1978 filming Deep Hearts, released in 1981 (Gardner 2006:181–215). Geerewol is the focus.23 His sparse voiceover interprets it as competing "for approval as physical and moral specimens…. [Y]ounger men risk their pride as dancers and as embodiments of Bororo virtue … It is a contest between two lineages," he says, "for women who will be stolen and between members of the same lineage for acknowledgment as the most desirable among them" (Gardner 1981). He eschews sexual interpretations and in his journal declares, "there is no room for personal or romantic notions; it is principally social in significance" (Gardner 1981, 2006:213).24La Femme Volée appeared the year before, with the sexual emphasis that became prominent, asserting that geerewol is intended to seduce women.The three films released in 1988 split on this theme. All were made for television: one in Granada Television's Disappearing World series; a National Geographic profile with Carol Beckwith; and Werner Herzog's Herdsmen of the Sun, made for French television. Note that these films put Wodaabe on television in three countries, available for wider distribution. Geerewol figures in the first two, but dominates neither, and neither comments on sexual opportunities at the dance.Herzog's film, however, has a significant focus on geerewol,25 even as it shows other scenes and Wodaabe talk about the drought. He describes it as a marriage market, celebration of beauty, and an occasion where sexual encounters are expected. He says, "young women have taken up their positions; each … will choose her beau for the night." Interview-like conversations among Wodaabe, a delightful feature of the film, develop this further. A final interview with the winner and the woman who chose him takes place, we are told, after they spent the night together. "Do you love me because of my beauty or my charms?" he asks. She tells him, "I have chosen you with my heart." One reviewer connected with Wodaabe through the interviews, she says, since they seem like us: "worrying about relationships" (Philips 1991).Geerewol dress, makeup, and dance carry no sense of feminine inversion or cross-dressing for Wodaabe, and Herzog's verbal presentation of geerewol is entirely heterosexual. Yet the film's opening introduces gender ambiguity for Euro-American viewers. It shows slow motion head shots with characteristic facial gestures: Dancers widen their eyes, flash their teeth, and turn their heads. The soundtrack is a scratchy recording of Gounod's "Ave Maria."26 Herzog says this redefines the realm of truth, indicating it is a story of beauty and desire, not documentary per se (Cronin 2002:214). The combination—so far contextless—certainly raises questions about beauty and purity, but perhaps also of gender and sexual identity, even for viewers unaware that the 1901 singer is Alessandro Moreschi, the last castrato of the Vatican (Cronin 2002:214; Prager 2007:184). Later scenes have similar musical juxtapositions as Wodaabe men apply masklike facial makeup, but by then narration has made clear that these are men.These juxtapositions are subtle, fleeting, but striking. Whatever they communicated, the film's reception highlighted sexual promiscuity and cross-dressing. The same review observes breezily, "camels nothwithstanding, [it] looks more like Paris is Burning than National Geographic," referring to the 1991 documentary about gay men competing in New York drag balls (Philips 1991) (Fig. 16). In fact, the two films played together in Chicago and in New York (Maslin 1991). Some commentaries just assume the gender misreading, as analogy collapses into assertions that geerewol are "transvestite courting rituals" (Atkinson 2001) of "Desert Drag Queens" (Jolique 2000).Gender can be visually ambiguous and unstable. When we don't recognize contextual signs that disambiguate gender identity, we tend to read it through our own familiar signs and assumptions. "Beauty contest" signals female competition for Euro-Americans (Pyper 1998:3; Cohen,
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