Be a Cultural Anthropologist
(photo from https://peterberkers-sporthorses.com/)
We decided to go at the last minute. We drove three hours to get there. Feliks slept most of the way and I thought about all the things on my to-do list that weren’t getting done because I was driving three hours to get there. Then he woke up and we talked about horses (and snacks). My to-do list disappeared. *POOF*
We checked into our hotel, which had signs all over the lobby requiring masks. Except no one was wearing a mask other than the two of us—bright orange N-95s, like highway caution signs you can see at a far distance. And then we drove a few miles to the event we had come for—a two-day event featuring world-class horses and riders doing dressage, show jumping, and cross-country.
It’s funny going to something that obviously has “rules” or “expectations” that you don’t know about. It’s like being a stranger in a strange land, providing that frisson of not-knowing that I love so much. Like going to a different church as a child where people kneel on little pull-out kneeling things for the first time and having no idea what’s happening when people suddenly move forward and get shorter. I investigate like a cultural anthropologist, asking questions and learning from everyone around me, which has often had the effect of embarrassing my children.
Before we had left home, I checked my “Happy Cow” app for local vegan restaurants where we were headed. A vegan caterer caught my eye. I knew it was a long shot, but I emailed about picking up meals for the weekend from her. She emailed back, saying usually she could accommodate that, but with two big events for the weekend, she couldn’t do it. She enclosed menus for the two events, one of which was the horse show we were attending! We happily ate superb vegan food while sitting in the sun watching the event.
And let me tell you, two days in the hot sun will wear a person out. In the very best way possible. Also, there is a danger in taking a young equestrian to an event like that—suddenly he wants a horse that can jump tall buildings in a single bound. Those kinds of horses cost more than our house, I explained. He was still relentless in his dream, which I admire.
There were puppies and young humans tired from the sun. There were Olympians who competed! There were VIP tents that reminded John of Victorian bathing tents by the seaside when I sent him a photo of them. I asked Feliks a lot of questions. And the people sitting around us. And the man driving a golf cart. And the people who reset the poles when they got knocked down. I wanted to know what this culture is, besides very white and mostly wealthy?
A memorial service during the event uncovered a heart beneath the surface. A young, rising star — Annie Goodwin — was killed when she fell off her horse during a jump in 2021 and her horse fell on top of her. The horse, nicknamed Bruno, was there for this event, ridden at Annie’s family’s request by Olympian Boyd Martin, who had been Annie’s coach. Boyd and Bruno won the Grand Prix, which made the weekend all the more special. Every culture seeks to make meaning of senselessness, and this was no different.
Wherever you go, be a cultural anthropologist: Ask questions. A good way to ask those questions is to start with this phrase: “Help me understand.” Help me understand what happens when a rider falls off. Help me understand how you have come to that point of view. Help me understand whether it’s better to have a low score or a high score. Help me understand the meaning behind your way of dressing. Help me understand your love of horses. No doubt the answers will be in the form of a story. And the shortest distance between two people is a story.
Ask without judgment; driven solely by curiosity—a desire to know more, and more deeply.
