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The Art of Conversation - Catherine Blyth [12]

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HOW GREETINGS CONNECT


If conversation is music, then the start, the strike of a tuning fork, sets the tone and reveals others’ key.

Greetings’ exchange betokens a pact that people’s attention is, for now, each other’s. Not only does a casual “Hi” or formally begged “How do you do?” announce where you’re coming from, but, like a diplomatic gift, the way you present it sends a message. However relaxed, it is a mark of respect, not an excuse to grab attention. (Which may shock U2’s Bono. A friend’s party was silenced when a bagpiper burst in, piped ten long minutes, then announced that the rock singer couldn’t make it, but had sent him to say “Hi” instead.)

Not greeting emits a message too. Indeed, in Colette’s novella Gigi, the heroine, her mother, and her grandmother (the last two both retired courtesans) use it to dent the ego of an ageing roué and coax him into proposing marriage:

“Good afternoon, Mamita. Good afternoon, Gigi,” he said airily. “Please don’t move, I’ve come to retrieve my straw hat.”

None of the three women replied, and his assurance left him. “Well, you might at least say a word to me, even if it’s only How-d’you-do?”


➺ Rule two: Greetings are charms to open minds and doors

Getting greetings right means hitting the same register as the other person—whether formal, friendly, or intimate. Getting them wrong signals that you’re uninterested, not on his wavelength, or an outsider; bad news in dangerous places. For instance, Tuareg nomads crossing paths in the Sahara desert will reveal names only after trading set phrases like undercover spies.

The lower status person (usually the younger) begins:

Younger: Peace be on you.

Elder: What do you look like?

Younger: Only peace.

Elder: What has gone wrong?

Younger: Nothing. Only peace.

Elder: What is new?

Younger: Nothing. Only peace.

Elder: Where are you going?

Such rituals reflect that manners are not universal but sprout up to serve regional circumstance. Nothing if not conventional, refined over millennia, they broker relationships, playing out social assumptions embedded in our cultural software, and so, by their nature, transcend finer feeling.

So Nigeria’s Ibo, who believe the first person they greet dictates their day’s fortune, happily ignore their own granny if there is a whiff of illness about her. So, to a Western Apache, introducing yourself is presumptuous (a keepsake of justified suspicion against men bearing gifts). Whereas in most urban societies not to do so—even if out of shyness—is rude, a bit like asking “Don’t you know who I am?” To which the reply must be “No, thank goodness.”

In complicated settings, negotiating the right to say hi can be a gorgeous dance. Intrepid Rory Stewart learned the worth of due respects hiking across Afghanistan—over mountains, in winter, shortly after tumultuous war. Initially he found the forms funny:

Finally a soldier marched in and, holding his right hand to his chest, said, “Salaam aleikum. Chetor hastid? Jan-e-shoma jur ast? Khum hastid? Sahat-e-shoma khub ast? Be khair hastid? Jur hastid? Khane kheirat ast? Zinde bashi.” Which in Dari, the Afghan dialect of Persian, means, “Peace be with you. How are you? Is your soul healthy? Are you well? Are you well? Are you healthy? Are you fine? Is your household flourishing? Long life to you.” Or: “Hello.”

But passing through shattered communities, Stewart soon mastered how to hail by lushly barnacled local custom, if need be invoking the forefathers of well-connected warlords who had guaranteed his passage. Time and again this, rather than gold, saved his life.

If seldom a question of life and death, like a letter of introduction clasped to the bosom of a Brontë heroine, greetings remain passports as well as the embodiment of the style by which you will be expected to behave. So if others bow, go ahead, and when in Rome, best do as they do, because respecting native customs is the first sign you can give someone that he should respect you.

THE ORIGINS OF CONFUSION


I’m exaggerating? Of course, most of us pay greetings scant attention,

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