Open Writing

There was a time when it was fashionable, and perhaps even advisable, to carry a stiletto dagger or some such slim knife, concealed either in a voluminous sleeve, or in one’s hand covered by a folded cloak over the arm. In this way you were ready to fend off footpads, or if you were notable enough, assassination attempts.

Since most people are right-handed, showing the right hand to be empty when meeting someone was supposedly an act of assurance and an indication of good will, so goes the popular belief in the origin of the handshake. I have considerable doubts that there is any truth to this.

After all, what’s to prevent an intending attacker from reaching with his right hand into his left sleeve or hand for a concealed weapon? Stabbing someone with a stiletto doesn’t require manual dexterity, so why put so much trust in an open right hand, when a left hand would be just as effective? Furthermore, since shaking hands was a particularly western greeting, does that mean that Asians did not carry concealed weapons?

Whatever the true explanation, and there probably isn’t one, the way people greet one another across the world has continued to evolve. The French have a selection of greetings – the kiss on each cheek with a perfunctory hug, reserved for politicians and business people you don’t like; the kiss on each cheek with a firm handshake, reserved for politicians and other people you do like; and the kiss on the hand reserved for women you’d like to bed.

But no culture anywhere has more alternatives than does the USA. For example, there are the numerous secret handshakes used by members of the secretive organizations to identify fellow members: the Freemasons, Knights of Columbus, The Elks, Shriners etc.

I’m intrigued by what the protocol is if you’re a member of more than one of these societies. What do you do? Start off with one handshake, and if you draw a blank with that, try another, and another until you find a match?

Beyond all that are the multitude of hand greetings common to the sporting community – not just greetings, but acknowledgements of a job well done, as in the “High five.” Then there are the “Fist bumps” in various combinations that I haven’t been able to figure out, and don’t intend to try very hard.

With all this arcane behavior, I’m almost afraid to meet someone I don’t know that looks the least bit like a jock. Supposing I clench my fist ready for a bump, and all he or she expects is a regular handshake. Would he or she be offended, or even worse, assume I’m about to hit them?

In a very quiet way, another wave of change has refashioned men greeting men here - the hug, which was proprietary to certain ethnic groups like the Italian, Greeks and Jews for generations, but is now becoming almost commonplace. Its newness to the rest of us has created some difficulties.
Usually reserved for friendships that have become more than just casual, one has to consider whether a relationship has crossed the threshold, or is ready to. Not having seen such a friend for several months, you wonder if the friendship has ripened in the meantime, or not? As they walk down the airport ramp towards you, you’re left to conjecture if this is the day of the first hug.

Having decided to take the initiative at the risk of embarrassment, it then becomes a matter of left hand over the shoulder, right hand under the armpit, or the other way round. Getting it wrong, and this is easy to do because there does not appear to be any convention, could result in an inadvertent black eye or a cracked skull.

Once the rules of engagement have been worked out, and you are firmly attached to your “friend,” is it appropriate to plant a kiss in his ear? I have gone through this transition of handshake to hugging with one friend, and we never do get it quite right. He’s the least likely hugger one could imagine, being an elderly, native New Englander, a retired professor, scholar and historian, but he loves his hugs.

My favorite greeting rite to observe is that between women of passion – Greeks, Basque, and some Adriatic folk. An Albanian lady who cleaned for my wife and I in New York, brought me some video tapes made at a big family reunion.

Without exception, the women cradled each other’s heads in their cupped hands, a finger above, and one below each ear, looked deeply into each other’s eyes and kissed repeatedly and passionately. I found it very moving. It was as if they were resealing the bond between them individually, but also as a clan. Beats the hell out of a handshake.

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