Having lived in the suburbs of Brisbane for the first 6 years of my life in Australia, moving down to Sydney for uni was an exciting change of environment for me. But it also made me realise how much I have assimilated into the Australian way of life, that I now take a lot of what I do and how I act for granted.
“How are you?”
This has become the start of everyday conversations with almost anyone, especially when we’re meeting them for the first time. It wasn’t long ago that the uniformed response I would give to “how are you,” would be: “I’m good, and you?” As though it were taken straight from my primary school’s English curriculum. For me, that used to be the end of my conversation with people. That was until I discovered the unknown universe of small talk.
Now that I am equipped with years of practice of responding or initiating a conversation with a stranger, whether that is with the lady walking her dog on the footpath, or grandmas and grandpas waiting for the bus, it has become almost a natural instinct of my body. Whenever I go back home to China, my parents always find it absurd that I would strike up conversations with strangers so easily.
Back at home, the closest thing to “How are you?” is probably “Have you eaten?” (你吃了吗?), but this is often limited to the people you’ve already known and rarely extends to strangers. However, there is to some extent, the Chinese version of small talk when meeting new people. Depending on who you are speaking to, the place you are from and what you do for a living are the main topics of discussion, while for older individuals, topics of family and kids would always come up, as my grandma used to always tell people around her nursing home that her grandson was in Australia. Nevertheless, Chinese small talk can be very personal but genuine at the same: it is often used not just as an ice-breaker, but as seeds for long-term relationships.
Culturally, there is also this construct of “mianzi (面子)” that literally means the “face” , which reflects your personal image and reputation as perceived by others. Growing up, whenever I would do something stupid in public, my mum would always yell at me, “Don’t lose your ‘face’!”I would care so much about my mianzi, and striking up small talk with a stranger in public would always seem to put my ‘face’ in jeopardy, because I would risk making a fool of myself to others in doing something that is not socially accepted.
That is perhaps why I used to feel so awkward and afraid when talking to someone new, as if there was some sort of pressure in speaking in a way that is socially accepted by others. There is also this burden of coming up with topics that would be inclusive and appropriate enough for someone to participate in, and that could almost always outweigh the benefit of engaging in that conversation. So I would rather stay silent and let the awkwardness continue.
To be blatantly honest, after years of living here, I am still not sure how I got around this hurdle, or what the point of it all is, but my body does it almost intuitively now. Maybe it’s my inner-extrovert or maybe it’s the effects of my social osmosis within Australia, I don’t know.
Nevertheless, comparing the two cultures often makes me question, do we really care about other people’s own business? Do we ask someone “how are you” when we don’t often mean it?
Have we ever prepared ourselves for the day when your local pub’s bartender tells you they are having a bad day, or are we ever prepared to admit to a stranger that we are feeling down? I feel that “how are you” has become a norm of mannerism and lost its original meaning, where we end up responding mechanically that we are fine.
Regardless of what the social norm is, small talk itself is an art, that is probably the reason for the thousands of networking events you see across campus. I’ve also heard plenty of times that understanding how to network and form professional relationships would open doors for many opportunities.
One thing I do appreciate about small talk in Australia, is the sense of belonging it brings and the community it builds surrounding me. People are willing to engage with you, to smile at you, making me feel that we are no strangers. It is really heartwarming.
That is when I feel at ease, and when I feel at home.
