Whereas recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world..."

The words, set in bold type, hang over the man urinating on the obelisk on which they are embedded. Obviously drunk, he is oblivious and perhaps indifferent to a small group of people with notepads, looking at him curiously, but without the slightest hint of disgust. Shaking off the last drops and zipping up, he manages to walk a few steps to a fountain nearby, placing his unsteady body on the steps of the reservoir. "Hey, baby, show me them teeth," he mumbles, and in a friendly gesture, he offers a hand that was holding his penis just seconds ago. "Say, where are you from?"

Nearby, a policeman on a motorcycle is trying to wake a man who is passed out on the parapet next to the Mexican fast food tent, which smells of grease and overcooked beans. "You can sit here, but I just don't want you to die," the cop says. "I don't want you to get robbed either," he adds, shoving the guy in the ribs. Next to the cop, five men and a woman are taking turns on a plastic bottle filled with an orange substance. They wrinkle their faces and wipe their mouths after each sip, giving the impression that what they share is 40 proof stronger than any soft drink on the market. The sound of cheap scissors penetrates the air as a man gets his hair cut and beard trimmed by a wizard with a comb that's missing a few teeth sticking out from the back pocket of his dirty blue jeans.

This is life at the United Nations Plaza, and the fifteen-plus note takers are here to study it.

The SF State urban studies course, "Ethnography of the Inner City," provides future anthropologists with a rare chance to conduct intensive, grounded fieldwork vis-à-vis observation, interaction, and evaluation of "how the other half lives." Class instructor Thor Anderson says, "With a social science at base, it is a course in philosophy, and an opportunity to examine life in all of its places and make a positive impact in the area of the concern. It's an opportunity to further experience structural inequalities that define our contemporary society and to confront these problems."

The class was started for these very reasons twenty years ago by Phillippe Bourgois, an influential anthropologist and former SF State instructor whose most recent fieldwork among homeless heroin and crack addicts in San Francisco is the subject of a forthcoming book. The class is an interactive field school where students are expected to meet, converse, and collaborate with those who are considered lowlifes by society: the addicts, prostitutes, hardcore homeless, and anybody else who (whether by choice or by fate) ends up on the Plaza.

Having done research in the Tenderloin for more than ten years, Anderson believes it is a perfect place to study the city's social ills. As the heart of San Francisco's urban core, the infamous district is a passageway into a different dimension--an unknown and strange frontier that the majority of city residents tend to despise or ignore.

"We live in the world of parallel social universes. You turn a corner and find yourself in a crack house--a microcosm with a whole new set of rules, prohibitions, and behavior," says Anderson. "That's why we are here--to [catch] a moment glimpse into an alternative worldview."

Besides the provisional sneak peek, the location gives students an opportunity to work in a monitored, supervised area with the potential to develop techniques that are suitable to the field setting.

In previous years, the area of research was not tied to a specific geographical area, but rather scattered throughout various "hot" spots of the city, which created some problems. According to Anderson, when doing fieldwork at places like BART stations or parks, students "do not tend to go up to challenging circumstances." Now, when location is nailed down more specifically, it forces them "to go into that mood." And the strategy seems to be working.

Elena Marella, an anthropology senior, admits the difficulty of approaching strangers whose lives are so different from her own. Although she agrees that the overall experience gives her a vital skill for any social scientist--a better understanding of human kind--she is well aware of the obstacles. "Anthropology can take you to the darkest place a person can go, and sometimes I am making a concentrated effort not to talk [to those people]," says Marella. "But I have to surpass my own borders if I want to do anthropology. It's pointless to study anthropology and not to do any anthropology work."

Originally a public health major and now an anthropology student, Skylar Fordhal also prefers practical methodology to campus classrooms. "All I've been doing in other classes is writing intellectual research papers. At this point in my life I can write research papers pretty well," he says. "At times, it's uncomfortable being in this situation--being in a role of a person going after the information--but it's good to apply the concepts other people wrote about."

"I have a hard time talking to people, but this class forces me to go out there," says his fellow student and future colleague Jesus Varela. "This class is appealing to me, because after this semester I will walk away and say 'OK, I can do it.' Besides, how can you improve if you don't challenge yourself?'