The Politics of Saying Hello

I’ve always had issues with greetings.

What?

I like saying hello and being warm and welcoming. Well, I guess what I mean is, I have issues with ‘routine.’

Huh?

For example, I remember one day in high school I came home and my granddad asked me how my day was and I got super upset.

Why?

Because he asked me the same question every day and I thought it was disingenuous. How can you ask the very same question every day in the same manner, same order, and really mean it? Is it possible? I also feel very strongly that if you do not care to hear or know the answer to a question you shouldn’t ask it. And not that I think he didn’t care about the answer, I just felt it was more a question of habit than active thought. And that made me angry because I didn’t want to be caught in such a vicious cycle.

And how’s that related to anything at all?

Here, and as presented to me in my study of Arabic at Northwestern, and in Arabic culture in general, greeting people is a super long ordeal. Well, compared to in America anyway where a simple ‘Hi’ usually suffices. Here it goes something more like this:

            Hand shaking (leading to heart touching or finger kissing)

            Or

            Cheek kissing while saying…

“Hi (Peace). How are you (are you harmed?) Are you great? How are you? I’m good/Thanks be to Gd.”

And you may continue to inquire about one’s family depending on your relationship.

This is problematic for me because at the same time you’re trying to get this all out you’re being bombarded with (kisses) and a similar paragraph. Which just leaves me feeling like no one’s listening and why am I saying all this? And who is this stranger? And why can’t I just grant them peace and ask if they’re harmed? Do they really care how I am all this much? Cus… I kind of don’t.

When greeting lots of people I usually keep it short. And it would probably be considered rude or ill-raised if I were Moroccan. But in this regard I intentionally let my Americanness be a security blanket.

I don’t actually like engaging in this long ritual of saying hello. I know it’s supposed to be a super sincere and loving gesture, but for me it feels pretty much the exact opposite. And that’s no fault of the culture. I’ve obviously had issues with routine and unobserved answers to questions asked for a while.

But I think the ritual does speak to the culture on the whole. Saying hello here is a big deal. Conversely, leaving is not. You can slip out nearly unnoticed and that’s not a problem. Kind of the exact opposite of American culture.

Moroccan culture is much more open door. Which kind of drives me crazy, because I dislike unannounced visitors, but that’s nearly the only way Moroccans know how to arrive unless they’re coming from out of town. This open door policy makes receiving people a special occasion because you never know who’ll show up… but also the open door implies you think someone may come in, and that they are invited and welcome. Leaving isn’t such a big deal because you assume they’ll be back, and probably soon.

In America, we warmly greet people we’ve been expecting, but leaving… leaving is hard to do in America. Because when will we see others again? When will we have the opportunity to stop and enjoy each other’s company? Time is what we lack, and preserving the uniqueness moment becomes a special cause.

I just said good bye to all but one of my fifteenish Thanksgiving guests. And I really wanted them to stay on longer. They were perfect guests. And I loved having them around and cooking for them and talking to them and just, seeing and experiencing people in my space, who speak my language, and who were very invited. But—I couldn’t beg them to stay. They had places they needed to be and we are all on a very short time frame now with medical exams and festivals to work at to get to—which makes it even more special that so many of us (from SEVEN) provinces were able to make it to my house anyway. And it really made me reflect on the holidays in general and aspects our own American culture.