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Descomposición de la productividad laboral

B. Especificaciones alternativas

5. Descomposición de la productividad laboral

I  sat  with  Hawa  on  the  wharf  one  morning,  as  she  pointed  out  the  different  boats  in  the   distance,   calling   each   of   the   sailors   by   name   as   they   slid   towards   the   horizon.   To   her   trained   eye,   each   of   those   retreating   boats   was   as   instantly   recognisable   as   the   fisherman’s  face  would  have  been,  according  to  the  distinctive  pattern  of  its  colourful   patchwork  sail.  ‘Like,  my  man's  sail,  for  example,  it’s  red  and  orange.  So  when  I  come  to   the  beach,  I  can  see  him  straight  away.’    

 

There   had   been   a   time   —   only   a   few   decades   ago   —   when   it   had   been   common   for   Tissana’s  boats  to  spend  their  entire  day  fishing  in  the  shallow  waters  within  sight  of  the   shore.  It  does  still  happen,  occasionally,  that  shoals  of  bonga  congregate  in  the  waters   immediately  around  the  Shenge  Peninsula.  On  these  days,  if  you  stand  on  the  beach  and   look  out  to  sea,  the  water  seems  to  be  teeming  with  slow-­‐motion  activity.  During  lulls  in   more  interesting  gossip,  women  on  the  wharf  would  often  look  up,  and  idly  point  out  to   one   another   which   fishing   grounds   looked   to   be   popular   that   day,   and   where   the   different  individual  fishermen  (entirely  indistinguishable  to  my  eye)  were  coming  from   or  going  to  land.    

 

Yet,  however  rich  this  sheltered  coastal  shelf  may  once  have  been,  we  saw  in  Chapter  4   that  these  shallowest  inshore  waters  have  been  rapidly  decimated  in  recent  decades  by   the   profusion   of   unsustainable   dragnet   techniques.   This   decline   in   the   fertility   of   Tissana’s  most  local  waters  has  combined  with  improved  seafaring  technology,  to  foster   the  emergence  of  a  quite  different  kind  of  fishing  culture:  one  in  which  men  routinely   travel   far   greater   distances   each   day   in   search   of   fish.   Nowadays,   boat   captains   begin   their  days  by  listening  to  the  rumours  circulating  amongst  their  fellow  fishermen,  about   which   of   the   Yawri   Bay’s   many   fishing   grounds   have   recently   seen   fish   ‘dying’   in   the   greatest  numbers.  Even  in  the  absence  of  any  specific  piece  of  intelligence,  they  know   their  greatest  chance  of  landing  a  decent  catch  is  to  make  their  way  directly  into  deeper   waters  —  and  beyond  the  view  of  those  of  us  on  land.    

 

It   has   become   fashionable   across   anthropology   to   enlist   images   of   watery   ‘fluids’   wherever   we   want   to   allude   to   the   increased   mobility   and   interconnectivity   of   the   globalising  world  (Helmreich  2011).  However,  as  we  have  begun  to  see  over  the  past  two   chapters  certainly  does  not  hold  true  for  everyone  in  Tissana  that  the  sea  figures  in  their   lives  as  a  medium  of  free  movement  and  frictionless  connectivity.  On  the  contrary,  for   the   town’s   non-­‐seafaring   residents   the   watery   horizon   is   more   likely   to   appear   as   a   barrier  through  which  they  watch  others  pass,  but  beyond  which  they  can  neither  move   nor  see.  I  return  later  in  this  chapter  to  explore  the  implications,  for  those  on  the  coast,   of   living   with   the   knowledge   that   much   of   what   affects   their   livelihoods   most   takes   place  in  a  seascape  hidden  tantalisingly  beyond  their  view.  Before  returning  to  the  land,   however,  I  want  first  to  develop  a  stronger  sense  of  the  social  and  spatial  dimensions  of   the  world  into  which  the  fishermen  disappear  each  day.    

 

There  is  a  second  respect  in  which  my  ethnography  speaks  to  this  growing  ‘oceanisation’   discourse.  For,  even  whilst  social  scientists  refer  ever  more  often  to  economies  defined   by  ‘fluid’  movements  of  peoples,  things  and  ideas,  the  dominant  image  we  have  come  to   accept   of   waterscapes   themselves   is   of   a   curiously   flat,   socially   characterless   space:   albeit  one  that  we  now  expect  to  connect  people  and  places,  rather  than  separate  them.   As  Kären  Wigen  notes  here,  a  continuing  oversight  of  research  exploring  the  social  life  of   ocean   basins   is   that   ‘sea   space…   comes   across   as   essentially   a   two-­‐dimensional   (and   practically  friction-­‐free)  surface  for  the  coming  and  going  of  ships’  (Wigen  2006:  720).      

Tim  Ingold  epitomises  this  attitude  rather  neatly  in  his  statement  that  ‘we  humans  stake   out   our   differences   on   the   land;   the   sea,   however,   is   a   great   dissolver   —   of   time,   of   history,  of  cultural  distinction’  (1994:  x).  However,  for  the  many  thousands  of  working   fishermen   who   make   their   living   from   the   Yawri   Bay,   this   small,   intensively   utilised   seascape   is   anything   but   a   ‘great   dissolver’.   When   Tissana’s   fishermen   go   to   sea   each   day,  they  may  leave  behind  the  relationships   that  characterise  their  social  lives  on  the   land,   but   they   enter   another   equally   complex   social   world,   every   bit   as   riven   through   with  rivalries,  conflicts  and  secret  alliances.  

 

I  had  been  living  in  Tissana  for  almost  a  year  before,  one  morning,  a  visiting  boat  owner   from  Plantain  Island  had  taken  a  long  stick  and  sketched  me  a  map  of  the  Yawri  Bay  in   sandy   ground   outside   Pa   Sila’a   cookery.   Aside   from   the   coastline,   which   I   recognised  

easily  enough,  Tomi’s  map  revealed  a  topography  altogether  unfamiliar  to  me.  He  did   not  bother  to  mark  any  of  the  villages,  roads  or  rivers,  which  I  tended  to  think  of  as  the   region’s   most   prominent   landmarks.   Rather,   he   carefully   parcelled   out   an   intricate   mosaic  of  distinct  watery  spaces,  the  defining  characteristics  of  which  —  the  depths  of   their  seabed  and  the  strengths  of  their  currents  —  were  all  utterly  invisible  to  me.  To   the   far   side   of   Plantain   Island,   for   example,   Tomi   marked   a   series   of   small   fishing   grounds  running  away  from  the  coast  toward  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  He  pointed  to  them  in   turn   —   ‘Konah,   Kaisa,   Pokeh,   Katatabul’   —   and   explained   how   each   differed   from   its   neighbouring   fishing   ground   in   some   important   aspect   of   its   invisible,   underwater   terrain.  Beyond  that,  where  the  continental  shelf  slides  off  into  the  deep  Atlantic:  ‘We   call  that  “Open”,  that’s  the  big,  deep  sea,  there,  where  those  trawlers  pass.  It  can  be   rough  there.  Then  here,  all  along  here,  between  Bompeh  and  Konah  grounds,  there  is  a   deep  channel  of  water.  We  call  that  “Gutta  [gutter]  Ground”’.    

 

Although  he  carefully  labelled  these  deeper  waters  into  small,  named  grounds,  Tomi’s   map  dismissed  the  entire  wide,  shallow  shelf  along  the  coast  of  the  Shenge  Peninsula  as   an   undifferentiated   non-­‐fishing   ground,   which   he   referred   to   as   ‘Bar’.   Like   most   fishermen   based   on   Plantain   Island,   his   fishing   equipment   was   unsuitable   for   these   inshore   waters.   If   he   cast   his   twenty-­‐fathom   (36   metres)-­‐wide   net   here,   where   the   seabed   lies   only   seven   fathoms   (12   metres)   beneath   the   surface,   they   would   almost   certainly   tear.   Tissanan   fishermen,   by   contrast,   tend   to   use   narrower   nets   and   do   still   class   these   shallow   seas   as   a   series   of   distinct   fishing   grounds,   albeit   ones   that   they   expect  ever  less  often  to  provide  them  with  a  bounteous  catch.  For  their  part,  they  can   only  reach  deeper  waters  by  heading  out  beyond  Plantain.  It  is  partly  for  this  reason  that   even  the  most  homebody  of  Tissanan  fishermen  so  often  opt  to  save  their  fuel  money  —   or  even  better  their  aching  muscles  —  by  passing  the  night  ‘on  alehn’  on  Plantain.  

 

It   was   Tomi’s   map   that   had   first   revealed   to   me   just   what   a   clear   sense   experienced   fishermen  have  of  the  hidden,  three-­‐dimensional  topography  they  traverse  each  day  in   their  boats.  But  he  also  emphasised  what  a  thoroughly  populated  and  highly  socialised   space  these  fishing  grounds  around  Plantain  had  become.  ‘First  time’,  he  told  me,  ‘when   you  went  to  sea,  you  were  on  your  own’.  Captains  had  relied  purely  on  their  experience   to  intuit  where  the  fish  might  be  concentrated  in  the  ocean.  Depending  on  the  tide,  the   season  and  weather  conditions,  a  knowledgeable  man  could  look  at  the  water  and  make  

an  informed  guess  as  to  where  he  might  find  fish.  But  really,  he  readily  admitted,  fish  are   not  that  predictable:  ‘where  they  go  —  it  is  only  God  who  decides  that’.    

 

The   density   of   boats   working   in   the   Yawri   Bay’s   waters   has   increased   dramatically   in   recent   decades.   This,   combined   with   the   introduction   of   mobile   phones   five   years   earlier,  has  radically  changed  the  social  character  of  the  sea:  transforming  it  into  a  space   in  which  fishing  boats  are  far  less  isolated  than  they  once  had  been:    

There  are  over  a  hundred  and  fifty  boats  now,  on  Plantain.37  When  we  go  to  sea,   we  all  scatter.  But  now,  it’s  not  like  before.  We  can  communicate.  If  I’ve  got  a   friend  in  another  boat  he  might  call  me,  and  say,  ‘Are  the  fish  dying  where  you   are?   Because   here   at   Poke   Ground,   there   are   loads!’   The   fish   —   they   don’t   scatter   in   the   sea,   you   know?   They   move   in   groups   —   so   it   can   happen   sometimes  that  there  are  loads  in  one  place.  So  then  I’d  just  ace  my  engine,  and  I   can  be  there  quick-­‐quick.  Because,  before,  we  had  to  paddle,  but  now  God  has   given  us  these  engines,  so  it’s  easy.  

The  image  Tomi  painted,  of  fishermen  generously  collaborating  to  help  one  another  at   sea,  is  only  one  part  of  the  picture.  Most  of  the  men  I  asked  agreed  it  is  fairly  rare  to   encounter  fish  in  such  massive  numbers  that  it  warrants  actively  inviting  another  boat  to   come  and  share  in  the  plenty.  In  fact,  in  an  environment  where  all  men  are  essentially   competing  to  catch  the  same  shoals  of  fish,  the  dynamic  between  different  fishing  boats   is  more  often  one  of  intense,  sport-­‐like  rivalry.    

 

Travelling   aboard   one   of   the   large   passenger   canoes   (pampas)   that   commute   twice   weekly  from  Tombo  to  Shenge,  the  journey  gave  me  and  the  other  women  on-­‐board  a   tantalising  glimpse  of  a  male  world  from  which  we  were  usually  excluded.  In  the  rainy   season,   these   journeys   could   be   hair-­‐raising   —   and   dangerous.   In   the   dry   season,   however,  when  the  surface  of  the  Yawri  Bay  is  as  calm  and  smooth  as  a  millpond,  the   crossing  usually  passes  without  drama  (see  Figure  10).  If  the  weather  is  clear,  one  barely   loses  sight  of  Freetown’s  mountains  before  the  low-­‐lying  houses  and  trees  of  Plantain   Island  appear  over  the  horizon  ahead.  In  every  direction,  brightly  painted  fishing  boats   are  scattered  motionless  across  the  glassy  surface  of  the  sea.    

 

                                                                                                                         

At   moments   like   this,   one   had   a   clear   sense   of   the   sea   as   a   densely   populated   social   space.   The   fishing   grounds   to   the   north   of   Shenge   are   deeper   than   those   to   its   south   and   west,   and   are   favoured   by   larger,   so-­‐called   ‘Ghana’   or   ‘channel’   boats,   with   their   deeper  nets  and  crews  of  fifteen  to  twenty  men.  In  the  course  of  a  three-­‐hour  pampa   journey,  we  might  pass  close  enough  to  shout  greetings  to  the  men  aboard  a  dozen  or   more  of  these  boats,  as  they  stood  under  the  glaring  sun,  patiently  scanning  the  horizon   about  them,  scrutinising  the  water  for  evidence  of  hidden  fish,  shoaling  just  beneath  the   surface:  ‘Yes,  when  you  see  them  all  like  that,  near-­‐near  to  one  another,  it  means  that   the   fish   are   there.   In   all   those   boats,   they   are   all   watching,   watching,   watching   the   water’   (Yusef,   crewman).     Seeing   these   multiple   boatloads   of   fishermen   scanning   the   same  waters  for  the  same  shoals  of  fish,  it  would  be  easy  to  forget  the  possibility  that   each  crew  set  sail  from  a  different  wharf  town  that  morning.  Occasionally,  we  happened   to  pass  one  of  these  large  boats  just  at  the  moment  when  its  crew  had  broken  their  vigil.   Their   engine   would   be   on   full   blast,   churning   the   water   behind   them,   as   the   boat   swerved   to   intercept   a   shoal   of   fish   they   had   spotted.   All   the   men   on-­‐board   were   in   motion,  working  rapidly  as  a  team,  to  cast  their  net  before  any  of  the  boats  nearby  were   able  to  move  to  catch  the  same  fish.  On  another  occasion,  my  pampa  passed  a  crew  just   as   they   were   hauling   their   net   from   the   water.   From   our   cramped   perches   along   the   edge  of  the  passenger  canoe,  we  all  turned  and  craned  to  see  what  kind  of  catch  they   had  landed:    

‘Do   you   see   those   men   there?   They’re   pulling   their   net!   Ah!   That’s   hard   work,   there!’    

‘Look   at   all   those   fish!   They   are   happy   today!   Look,   the   other   crews   are   all   watching  them.’  

 

And   it   was   true.   The   sea   was   so   congested   that   day   that   three   or   four   other   similarly   sized   boats   were   close   enough   in   the   water   to   have   an   easy   view   of   the   successful   fishermen.  The  others  had  not  cast  their  nets  yet,  and  were  standing  watching  as  their   rivals  dragged  their  heavy,  glittering  catch  from  the  sea.  As  our  pampa  slid  through  the   water  between  them,  the  tension  had  felt  palpable.  I  recalled  Pa  Brima’s  comment,  only   a  few  days  previously  in  Tissana,  that:  ‘In  the  town,  you  see  us,  we  fishermen  all  have   one   heart.   But   when   I’m   at   sea,   I   don't   want   any   man   to   get   more   than   me!’.   Here,   Mohammed   paints   a   vivid   image   of   the   kinds   of   strategic   games   played   out   between   rival  crews  as  they  compete  against  one  another  in  the  sea:    

When  you're  all  there  in  an  open  place.  That  boat  is  standing  there;  that  one  is   standing  there;  that  one  is  standing  there:  they’re  all  watching,  watching,  they   are  all  watching  to  see.  Perhaps  I  might  be  standing  here,  but  I  can  see  there  are   fish   over   there   [behind   you].   I   don't   hurry-­‐oh!   I   paddle   small-­‐small,   I   come.   I   paddle   small-­‐small,   I   come.   I   paddle   small-­‐small,   I   come....   If   I   see   fish   in   the   water   near   your   boat,   I   wouldn't   call   to   tell   you   they   were   there-­‐oh!   No!   I’d   wait...   wait...   wait...   for   the   right   moment…   then,   BAM!   –   I’d   heave   my   net.   Whoever  casts  their  net  first,  it's  done!  Even  if  you  were  right  there,  closer  to  the   fish  than  me,  you  don't  have  the  right  to  cast  your  net  now.    

 

Parallel   attempts   to   capitalise   upon   ‘knowledge   differentials’   are   an   essential   characteristic  of  many  economic  environments  —  from  the  stock  market  to  the  bazaar   (Geertz  1978;  Walsh  2004;  Berry  2007).  Yet  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  fisheries  have   certain   particular   material   characteristics   that   work   to   infuse   this   competition   with   a   heightened  sense  of  urgency.  In  a  context  in  which  everyone  in  the  sea  is  vying  to  catch   the  same  evasive  resource,  then  very  often  the  only  thing  separating  a  triumphant  boat   from  the  many  others  who  return  home  empty-­‐handed  is  the  fact  that  one  crew  learned,   fractionally  faster  than  its  rivals,  where  exactly  the  fish  were  to  be  found.  

 

Indeed,   it   is   a   recurring   characteristic   of   oceanic   life,   in   otherwise   disparate   fishing   cultures  around  the  world,  that  intense  competition  is  often  paired  with  ‘clear  signs  of   secrecy,   misinformation,   and   deceit’   (Palmer   1990:   157;   cf.   Andersen   1980;   Acheson   1981).  As  Mark  Busse  reminds  us  here,  ‘The  materiality  of  property  matters.  The  kinds  of   property   claims   that   can   be   made   depend   upon   the   materiality   of   the   things   being   claimed’   (Busse   2012:   120).   Or,   as   Pa   Brima   had   gone   on   to   put   it,   rather   more   pithily,   ‘Fish  get  problem-­‐oh!’  If  there  can  be  any  doubt  as  to  the  depth  of  the  competition  felt   between  rival  crews,  fishermen  often  told  me  that  it  was  common  for  tensions  to  erupt   into  violence:  

It’s  a  war!  It's  a  war!  It's  like  this:  you  see  fish  —  the  distance  is  there,  far  over   there.  I  see  them,  too.  I  want  to  go  and  catch  them  —  you  also  want  to  catch   them.  So  you'll  paddle;  I’ll  paddle  fast  to  try  and  go  and  catch  them.  Fishermen   can  fight  at  sea-­‐oh!  Eeeee,  bone  to  bone!  Physical!  Boats,  they  can  come  near  to   each  other,  like  this  –  FIGHT!  They  know  how  to  fight  at  sea.  (Alusine,  crewman)    

Yes,  they  can  fight!  Sometimes  they  heave  broken  bottles  at  one  another!  At  the   sea  now,  some  people,  they  cuss-­‐cuss-­‐cuss  —  abusive  language!  When  they  go   to  sea,  all  men  are  trying  to  fish.  (Usifu,  crewman)  

 

In  theory,  men  who  fight  at  sea  are  subject  to  the  same  laws  as  those  who  fight  in  town,   and   ought   to   receive   a   fairly   heavy   fine   from   the   town   chief   for   such   aggressive   behaviour.  However,  as  Alusine  goes  on  to  describe  here,  fishermen  collaborate  to  keep   a   clear   separation   between   the   two   social   worlds   —   ensuring   that   the   details   of   their   individual  antagonisms  remain  largely  invisible  to  their  neighbours  on  the  land:    

For  example,  you  and  me,  we  fight  at  sea.  You  catch.  Me,  I  don't  have  anything.   When  we  land,  I'll  go  to  you,  you'd  wap  for  me  [give  me  a  gift  of  fish].  So  we   take  it  now  as  something  fun.  When  we’re  here  on  land,  we  just  take  it  up  as  a   joke.   I’d   say,   ‘Ah   Jennifer   —   the   other   day,   when   we   were   at   sea,   don't   you   remember   how   I   hit   you?’   We   all   laugh.   But   when   we   were   out   at   sea,   it   was   serious.  EH!  Serious!  If  anyone  did  that  in  town,  it  would  be  a  major  problem.  But   it  doesn't  come  to  town.    

 

We  are  beginning  to  get  a  sense,  then,  of  the  complex  layers  of  partially  obscured  vision   that   riddle   Tissana’s   seascape.   On   one   hand   —   and   I   return   to   this   important   point   in   more   detail   shortly   —   non-­‐seafaring   fisherfolk,   left   behind   on   the   shore,   are   ever-­‐ conscious   of   this   disquieting   fact:   however   crucial   the   sea   is   to   their   own   fragile   livelihoods,  they  can  never  know  with  any  certainty  what  is  taking  place  in  that  maritime   world  across  the  horizon.  Yet  even  if  we  remain,  for  now,  with  the  seagoing  fishermen   themselves,  it  is  clear  that  what  knowledge  they  possess  of  their  work  environment  is,   by  definition,  slippery.  Regardless  of  how  experienced  a  boat’s  captain  might  be,  there  is   more  to  mastering  that  endlessly  fluid  environment  than  accumulating  a  static  corpus  of   knowledge.  Aside  from  steering  across  a  topography,  the  physical  contours  of  which  are   hidden  from  view  beneath  the  water,  fishermen  are  also  working  to  navigate  an  equally   complex  field  of  socially  produced  knowledge,  in  which  their  friends  and  colleagues  in   other  boats  are  as  likely  working  to  distort  or  conceal  important  information  as  they  are   to  share  it.