By Veneto Sherson
Modern life can be isolating, especially in big cities.
Photo: RNZ / Rebekah Parsons-King
When I join Auckland brothers Marc and Ben Lavers at a small table outside Made, Hamilton’s new high-end fashion and food precinct, it’s safe to say they look surprised.
A minute before, they had cheerfully returned my passing “hi,” but when I turn around and sit down, they look more hesitant.
“I thought you had to be a friend of Mom and Dad,” says Ben, 33. “Our parents have a lot of friends and they tell us: ‘You don’t know us, but when you were a kid’…”
Marc, 38, said: “I just thought you were very confident.”
I’m not a friend of their parents, although I’m sure I would like them, because their sons are so cordial. I’m here to write a story about what happens when you say “hello” to strangers.
Marc (left) and Ben Lavers from Auckland having coffee in Hamilton – and happy to have a stranger say ‘hello’ to them.
Photo: Veneto Sherson
The idea is based on a campaign in the small town of Luleå in northern Sweden, where people were said to be friendly but reserved.
A municipal employee came up with the idea of a “Säg hej!” (Say Hello!) aimed at bringing people together during the long, dark Nordic winter, when temperatures drop to -10°C. The idea is that even a simple “hi” (hej in Swedish) from a stranger can make people feel seen and more connected.
I’m here to test the response in my local suburb, Hamilton East.
I start off well when I greet Chantelle Koia, 42, a trainee midwife from Gisborne. She goes out with friends to celebrate the end of their exams.
When I stop in front of her and say a cheerful “hello,” she thinks I’ve confused her with someone else. But, like the Lavers brothers, she was raised to be polite, so she doesn’t reject me.
She thinks the message Say Hello! the campaign is a great idea. “I think a lot of people move around without anyone saying hello. In small towns that probably doesn’t happen, but in cities you might never stop to chat.”
She thinks many people don’t make the effort to talk face to face, which can lead to loneliness. Her grandmother said, “It doesn’t take much to make someone’s day.”
According to the World Health Organization, loneliness is now a “global public health problem.” It says a quarter of older people are socially isolated and between 5 and 15 percent of adolescents, “leading to health risks comparable to daily smoking, excessive alcohol consumption and obesity.”
Earlier this year, US Surgeon General Vivek Murthy sounded a similar alarm, saying the epidemic of loneliness and isolation, accelerated by the Covid-19 pandemic, had transformed the United States into “a lonely nation,” fueling problems that were killing people and “threatens to tear our country apart.”
Murthy said the problem has gotten worse since the 1970s for many reasons, including changes in social norms, technology and the pandemic.
“Right now, millions of people are telling us, through their stories and statistics, that their tank is running on empty when it comes to social connection,” he said.
I do my best to make connections in Hamilton East. It’s a friendly suburb, full of restaurants and shops, as well as Duck Island Ice Cream, which attracts children.
But not all encounters are positive. An older man turns his head and then his whole body away before picking up his phone, to show that he is not ready to chat. A young mother accompanied by an agitated toddler naturally waves me away. Another man appears to be looking at him, but he may be squinting in the sunlight.
A woman my age (“no name, please”) says she thinks there could be safety issues if the jokes are misinterpreted. While my suggestions are unlikely to be offensive, she says, others could be considered predatory.
It’s just a point. Stranger danger is the idea that all strangers can potentially be dangerous, no matter how warm their welcome. Covid has also brought new etiquette when it comes to social distancing. Some people still like to keep their personal space.
Luckily, Hamilton couple Jason Ross and Tracey Waller, both 33, are ready to get engaged. “I thought you were trying to sell me something,” Ross said once I explained the Swedish initiative to him.
I ask them if they think Kiwis are naturally friendly. (A survey last year by Condé Nast ranked Aotearoa the fifth friendliest country in the world – ahead of Australia at 12th, but behind Japan, Italy, Greece and Ireland.)
“Yes and no,” Ross said. “Walking around every day, I think we’re pretty nervous. I don’t know if it goes deeper than that.” A dairy farmer, he says he has never known solitude. “I enjoy time alone. Solitude is good.”
Waller agrees, but she also appreciates time spent with her sister and nieces and nephews. “I think it’s important to have deeper relationships.”
Deep relationships certainly make us happier and healthier, according to Tal Ben Shahar, who wrote the New York Times-Bestseller Happier.
Rob Walker says his dog, Trevor, gets strangers to say hello to him.
Photo: Veneto Sherson
But Åsa Koski, the strategist behind the Swedish campaign, is adamant that even a simple “hej” from a stranger can help people feel better about themselves.
“People have lost the art of social engagement,” she said after the campaign launched last month. “I think we were better at saying hello in the old days.”
She said research indicated that having a wider circle of acquaintances and neighbors – what she described as a gang of tuna (literally, “thin connections”) – was more important for people’s mental health than previously thought. “What we want to do with this campaign is build and strengthen these more superficial relationships with others.”
My last encounter in Hamilton East seems to prove his point.
Rob Walker, 55, stands in front of a store front with his six-year-old English bull terrier, Trevor. A sign invites you to smile, chat and pet the dog.
“He’s so friendly,” Walker says as I approach to say hello.
He adds: “Dogs attract people, then they stop and say ‘hi’.” Walker says the engagement is good for his mental health. He plans to launch a national campaign to encourage more people to follow suit.
