Junior people are expected to “offer a salâm” first as a sign of respect to someone senior irrespective of gender, but offering a salâm first without regard to age or status is greatly commended in Islam as a sign of humility in the face of God. It is important to greet people you are acquainted with one by one, including children, instead of a collective greeting like “Hello, everyone.”
In fact, offering a salâm to somebody you know and responding to another’s salâm is obligatory, even if it means interrupting proceedings, such as a meeting. During a gathering in the assembly hall at my daughter’s high school, the headmistress addressed about a hundred parents who were there to elect new members of the Parent-Teacher Association. From the podium she also faced the door through which latecomers were trickling in. Her speech went something like this: “This year we have implemented a shakeup of the school counseling system—salâm aleikom—employing younger counselors much nearer the girls’ age— salâm aleikom—and we hope that we shall soon see the positive effects of our decision on the girls’ performance—salâm aleikom.” The repeated salâms had no effect on the audience, who continued to listen.
An opening is immediately followed by formulaic health inquiries and responses that do not require factual answers, as in English. These responses may overlap as they are issued simultaneously by both parties, and they encompass members of the immediate family, like spouse and children, even if the speaker has never met them. Formulaic phrases are often used in response, for example: “How is your husband?” “May God be praised, he is well. He sends his salâms.” “Convey my regards to him.” “I will convey your greatness to him. And your children, how are they?” “They kiss your hands.”
I am often asked about my parents (who live in Greece) by friends and relatives who have never met them and probably never will. Conversations run like this: Relative/friend: “And how are your parents?” Sofia: “May God be praised, they send their salâms.” Relative/friend: “Give them my salâms too.” All these health inquiries are not empty talk, though. The anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski and, after him, John Laver, named this kind of talk phatic communion, a kind of social lubricant that serves to get the interaction off to a good start and cultivates relationships. The fact that a speaker goes through the motions of asking about my spouse, children, and parents, thus for a moment sharing my concerns, shows the speaker’s cordiality toward me and establishes common ground.
Health inquiries have another function: that of marking a new stage in the conversation. If conversation stops and one of the partners wants the interaction to continue, that person initiates a new round of health inquiries, which function as a springboard for a new topic of conversation. When they serve as a restart or a filler of a conversation they can, but by no means must, be treated as genuine questions, and they provide the impetus for the start of a new topic.