French Kissing

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The French are infamous for kissing. If you visit La République française, it’s not long before you observe people greeting each other with pecks on the cheek: women kissing women, men embracing men, women kissing men, young and old alike. Where we live most of the time the greeting is comprised of two pecks, one on each cheek. In the largely immigrant community across town where we sometimes go to play at an ingenious place called the Toy Library, one can observe men greeting each other with four kisses. As far as I’m aware four kisses is the limit. Any more must be a bit dizzying I imagine.

Surprisingly, it’s not all that simple to figure out who kisses whom, who initiates the kiss, how many times to kiss, or if one kisses at all. Throw an American into the mix and the whole cultural exchange becomes even more tricky. It’s for this reason that shortly after we arrived a professor at our language school actually gave us “the talk” and followed it up with a demonstration on how to properly greet with the lips.

Your cheek ought to touch theirs. The corner of your lips should lightly touch the cheek and then at that precise moment you kiss. Mwa! Kissing the air or not touching cheeks conveys insincerity much like a dead fish handshake. You know the one: you stick out your hand to greet someone with a firm handshake only to find that they flop a dead fish into your hand. Not a great way to greet. No one likes to kiss a dead fish either.

But, wait. With which cheek do you start? According to our prof, the right. Obviously!

the kissing man

There’s a gentleman at church whom I call “the kissing man.” I believe he was the first man I ever kissed. Our first Sunday at church, there he was, stationed at the front door as a greeter and entirely unavoidable. We’d been in France a whopping 24 hours at this point. Before I knew it I was caught in his bearded embrace. Taken a little aback, I think I just sort of made some kissing sounds in the air (dead fish?). At no other church have I ever received such a (warm) embrace on my first visit.

Nine months later, I still kiss this man every Sunday. There has been a progression, however. If he spots Emily first, he insists on kissing her before me. I don’t blame you, buddy!

Would you know that the kissing man and his wife have invited us to come over for Sunday lunch in a couple of weeks? Pucker up and pass the chapstick!

challenge

So, here’s a challenge. Find someone you love and greet them with a peck on each cheek. Or, if you’re feeling slightly more North African, go for four. Either way, report back and let us know how it went for ya.

2 responses to “French Kissing”

  1. Callie Avatar
    Callie

    Aha! That explains my natural tendency. Its in the genes! ;). Miss y’all and always grateful for the updates.

  2. Shanna Avatar
    Shanna

    At the international church I attended during a brief stint in North Africa it was like a minefield. I remember having intense feelings of relief when I got an American and could just hug them!

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