My first lesson in American culture was that friendliness is treated as an Olympic sport. The enthusiastic smiles, greetings, and “How are you?”’s are tossed around, regardless of whether it’s a friend or a stranger. At first, I was charmed. Even the cashier at Publix wanted to know about my day. Coming from Austria, where we tend to be a little more reserved, this was like walking into a giant hug.
But after a while, the hug started to feel a little empty. “Good, thanks,” I replied to the cashier. As I expanded on my answer, the cashier just stared at me blankly, not bothering to process what I had said. I’m sure that even if I had said “I’m doing great! Contemplating murder!”, she would have kept smiling at me. Then the conversation would end. Just like that. The person who asked would go on with their day, and I’d be left wondering if they really cared about the answer at all. Did they want to know how it was really going? Or was it just part of the social script?
In Austria, friendliness isn’t immediate. Like the panini line in the Grille, it develops over time. If I were to ask the cashier in BILLA (an Austrian supermarket) checking out my schnitzel sandwich how their day was going with the same vigorous energy as the Publix cashier does, all I’d receive in return would be a confused glance and awkward silence. In fact, they’d probably think I was part of some hidden-camera show. It’s not that Austrians are deeply mistrusting, but customarily, you just don’t open with a question about someone’s day unless you’re willing to hear a sincere answer. We simply don’t pretend to care about things we don’t.
Here, I’ve been offered more “How’s it going?”s than I can count, but when I pause to answer, I’m often met with a quick “Good! Okay, talk later!” before anyone even hears what’s actually going on in my life.
Maybe it’s the cultural difference, or maybe it’s just that Americans value positivity so much that small talk becomes a performance. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for being nice! But here’s a tip from Austria: friendliness without depth is like an empty Starbucks tumbler: it looks nice, but it’s better when it’s filled with something real.
