Gifts vs giveaways
It’s that time of the year again, traffic building up as people rush to get gifts, or what seem to be gifts.
Anthropologists and sociologists have long been analyzing gifts, a classic work being that of the French sociologist Marcel Mauss who wrote a book (actually, a very long essay) titled, what else but “The Gift,” published way back in 1925. The original French title was much longer and translates as: “An essay on the gift: The form and reason of exchange in archaic societies.”
The book, or at least excerpts, is still required reading in many social science courses, more so in anthropology because Mauss focused on “archaic societies,” captivated by the way traditional communities have much more ritualized gift-giving, with rules on what to give, who to give, even how to give.
Mauss wrote about how traditional gift-giving revolved around reciprocity, a concept which has been analyzed and reanalyzed by other social scientists.
At first glance, reciprocity can be a very simple concept: You give to return a favor, or to make someone indebted to you. The building of reciprocity cannot be reduced to monetary worth. Even a “cheap” item will be considered valuable because of the spirit of the gift, expressed in the term “mana,” which is used in many Austronesian languages.
Mauss resonates today in the mad rush around Christmas shopping. Maybe, I’ve thought, we might better appreciate giving and receiving gifts if we went back to being more purposive or “intentional” in our gift-giving.
The reason we go crazy with year-end gift shopping is
because we feel obligated to give to so many people who are not even friends. We then end up looking for giveaways, rather than gifts. Giveaways are intended to promote yourself (for politicians) or your business, with your name or the name of the company, with a logo, emblazoned as large as you can to make sure the recipient remembers you and your brand.
There’s a bit of irony here — giveaways have no “mana,” no sentimental value, and therefore end up with a greater chance of being given away again to someone else.
In contrast, think of how a gift becomes all the more precious because of the caring rituals that go with it.
Just look, for example, at the way the Japanese wrap their gifts, elaborate and yet ecological because you reuse the wrapper, which can sometimes even be cloth, the cloth wrappers specifically called “furoshiki,” which becomes part of the gift. (Japan surplus stores sometimes have furoshiki, the owners probably not even being aware what they are. One owner told me they were “retazo,” extra pieces of fabric.)
The use of furoshiki has been the subject of entire how – to books telling you how to wrap a bottle of wine for example. Even more fascinating is how the furoshiki can become recycled as bags and carriers, even backpacks.
A wrapper adds to the spirit of a gift. Which is why I particularly appreciate gifts that come in baskets. Sinamay wrappers also give a special touch to the gift.
It is tempting at times to just dispense with gift wrappers but even a plain paper bag adds to the spirit of the gift, meaning you’ve taken time out to prepare a present, as the word suggests, something to be presented. Sometimes it takes children to remind you of the importance of the presentation. Even if they will rip through the wrappers, you would have provided them with some suspense and mystery, which is so much part of the joy of receiving gifts.
A handwritten note goes a long way toward the spirit of the gift. When I had a recent reunion with my Dutch dissertation
adviser, I told him how I had come to look forward to his annual year-end gifts, not a “thing” but what I called his “Urbi et Orbi” (To the City [of Rome] and to the World), a takeoff from the Pope’s annual message. My adviser is Catholic and a former seminarian so he likes my metaphor for his annual messages which of course are family reports. More than two decades of his Urbi et Orbi have allowed me to keep track of his kids growing up and now having kids of their own.
The handwritten note can also explain what your gift is … yes, some gifts are so special they’re inscrutable. This year I gave some close friends a Bhutanese “charm,” a mig-thong (thousand eyes) meant to deflect “badmouthing” back to the badmouther, not to cause him or her harm but to make them less harmful. Now that needed an explanation, including a caveat that I don’t actually believe in magic, but that the power of an anting-anting is derived from the person giving you the anting-anting.
Purposive giving
I’ve been looking at the gifts I got and again, my social science background put me on an analytical mode, looking at trends in the gifts. I do see more local products, many handmade or homemade (for foods), and I see this as part of a more purposive gift-giving, telling people “local” is good. Some in fact are so good I end up asking the giver where they got it, so I can get some for friends.
There is a place for giveaways, no doubt. If I had to personally handpick gifts for all my work colleagues, relatives and friends I would go crazy, as my mother did every Christmas, mumbling and grumbling about how my father would order her to look for all the gifts, with specific instructions on how much they should be. The status aspect can be maddening and again, notice how, with real gifts, you’re not as preoccupied with how much it costs. My mother always said that with gifts, it’s the “i su” that counts, a Minnan Chinese phrase that means, well, meaning. It’s the meaning or spirit.
While my mother dreaded the madness of the year-end “gift” rush, she actually loved giving gifts throughout the rest of the year. She was always buying little items on the spur of the moment simply because the item made her think of someone who would love it. Even today, some years now after she’s become bedridden, I still discover some of the stuff she bought and stored, perhaps with Christmas or a birthday in mind. I get particularly excited with the toys, which I spring on the kids: “Look at what Lola got you,” even if the item has turned slightly yellow. Sometimes too I tell them, I think Lola got this even before you were born, and as the kids squeal in delight, I would marvel at how my mother seemed to have been able to tell that someday, the item would bring joy to a child.
The spirit of a good gift comes in its timelessness, its mana making it good pamana to pass on from one generation to another.
Think of the spirit, and you just might find that looking for gifts, even with the traffic and the crowds, can be much more a pleasure than a chore.
