The role of strangers in my life became so clear to me during the pandemic when we suddenly had no-contact ordering and were encouraged to stay apart and keep interactions brief. The daily chats with grocery clerks, baristas, and other strangers are life-giving and absolutely not trivial. However, I live in a large city in the U.S. and it’s not really considered normal to talk to strangers in other contexts such as when in line or on the bus. I wish we did but I certainly don’t have the self-confidence to break conventions and try to make friends out of strangers regularly!
I love your stories of the shopkeepers in Paris. These kinds of peripheral relationships sound so enriching. I wonder if their loss plays a role in the prevalence of loneliness in modern society?
Yes, I see what you mean -- different places/contexts have different conventions about talking to strangers. I think there might be little ways, though, especially when you have a clear reason to talk to a stranger, rather than just when you want to impose small talk on somebody in a subway car. The cashier, barista, etc. that you mention -- they probably have so, so many negative interactions with strangers every day. Just a smile or a kind comment probably goes a long way to them! It also helps to have a kid with you or talk to someone with a kid...or a pet...instant point of conversation :)
I think the answer to your question at the end of you comment must be "yes."
Dixie - this made me cry. What a wonderful call to talk to stranger; after all how are we to make friends if we don't talk to strangers? By talking to strangers we have met almost everyone in the neighbourhood who also goes for morning strolls by name, have learned about their dogs and families, and now are frequently asked to look after gardens, lawns, and cats while owners are away. In our conversations with strangers we have successfully encouraged an older woman to visit her brother in Ireland, motivated a teen to learn Latin, and taught younger kids to fly RC planes. When we lived in Newfoundland, where there are no strangers, we quickly learned that it was rude not to talk to people standing in line at the grocery store.
I also share your experience with shop keepers in foreign places. As I grew up in Switzerland until I was 17, our family keeps a close connection to my homeland. We visit every summer and one of the things kids look forward to most is visiting Frau Meier at the bakery below my mother's apartment. She has seen the kids grow from babyhood to university years and it is wonderful to have "strangers" like her in our life. All that to say, I loved your article and it resonated very much with me.
Ruth, I'm allowing myself on the computer briefly this weekend for some urgent matters and I'm so glad I popped over and saw this comment. I am so glad that this piece was meaningful to you. Talking to strangers is the only way to humanize to ourselves those who are different from us. It is not only absolutely crucial for a functioning society but also brings countless otherwise inaccessible joys, like the ones you mention experiencing. I love how you mention Frau Meier--it reminds me of the way that people were once connected to their fellow villagers in a way that went beyond like/dislike. Even if they didn't care for each other, they helped each other. Neighbor women coming to help with a birth is an example. It wasn't about liking each other. It was about supporting our neighbors. (Ulrich's A Midwife's Tale gives wonderful descriptions of this).
Different people have different comfort levels, but when we unite over a common little bit of humanity, a glorious little flare of light goes into the air, and we are brothers and sisters.
"...but when we unite over a common little bit of humanity, a glorious little flare of light goes into the air" - beautifully said! The passing conversations that we have with "strangers" on our daily walks, errands, and around our neighbourhood, are threads that bind us to the wider human fabric. My youngest boy in particular comes home gleefully after having had unexpected conversations with elderly neighbours, and will often comment on how he likes people who simply strike up a conversation.
The role of strangers in my life became so clear to me during the pandemic when we suddenly had no-contact ordering and were encouraged to stay apart and keep interactions brief. The daily chats with grocery clerks, baristas, and other strangers are life-giving and absolutely not trivial. However, I live in a large city in the U.S. and it’s not really considered normal to talk to strangers in other contexts such as when in line or on the bus. I wish we did but I certainly don’t have the self-confidence to break conventions and try to make friends out of strangers regularly!
I love your stories of the shopkeepers in Paris. These kinds of peripheral relationships sound so enriching. I wonder if their loss plays a role in the prevalence of loneliness in modern society?
Yes, I see what you mean -- different places/contexts have different conventions about talking to strangers. I think there might be little ways, though, especially when you have a clear reason to talk to a stranger, rather than just when you want to impose small talk on somebody in a subway car. The cashier, barista, etc. that you mention -- they probably have so, so many negative interactions with strangers every day. Just a smile or a kind comment probably goes a long way to them! It also helps to have a kid with you or talk to someone with a kid...or a pet...instant point of conversation :)
I think the answer to your question at the end of you comment must be "yes."
Dixie - this made me cry. What a wonderful call to talk to stranger; after all how are we to make friends if we don't talk to strangers? By talking to strangers we have met almost everyone in the neighbourhood who also goes for morning strolls by name, have learned about their dogs and families, and now are frequently asked to look after gardens, lawns, and cats while owners are away. In our conversations with strangers we have successfully encouraged an older woman to visit her brother in Ireland, motivated a teen to learn Latin, and taught younger kids to fly RC planes. When we lived in Newfoundland, where there are no strangers, we quickly learned that it was rude not to talk to people standing in line at the grocery store.
I also share your experience with shop keepers in foreign places. As I grew up in Switzerland until I was 17, our family keeps a close connection to my homeland. We visit every summer and one of the things kids look forward to most is visiting Frau Meier at the bakery below my mother's apartment. She has seen the kids grow from babyhood to university years and it is wonderful to have "strangers" like her in our life. All that to say, I loved your article and it resonated very much with me.
Ruth, I'm allowing myself on the computer briefly this weekend for some urgent matters and I'm so glad I popped over and saw this comment. I am so glad that this piece was meaningful to you. Talking to strangers is the only way to humanize to ourselves those who are different from us. It is not only absolutely crucial for a functioning society but also brings countless otherwise inaccessible joys, like the ones you mention experiencing. I love how you mention Frau Meier--it reminds me of the way that people were once connected to their fellow villagers in a way that went beyond like/dislike. Even if they didn't care for each other, they helped each other. Neighbor women coming to help with a birth is an example. It wasn't about liking each other. It was about supporting our neighbors. (Ulrich's A Midwife's Tale gives wonderful descriptions of this).
Different people have different comfort levels, but when we unite over a common little bit of humanity, a glorious little flare of light goes into the air, and we are brothers and sisters.
"...but when we unite over a common little bit of humanity, a glorious little flare of light goes into the air" - beautifully said! The passing conversations that we have with "strangers" on our daily walks, errands, and around our neighbourhood, are threads that bind us to the wider human fabric. My youngest boy in particular comes home gleefully after having had unexpected conversations with elderly neighbours, and will often comment on how he likes people who simply strike up a conversation.
Thanks again for your wonderful piece:)
That's lovely. I bet those kind of encounters make your son feel sense of belonging!