touch

i've been thinking about touch in Morocco quite a bit lately. Mostly, there were two incidents that put me on this topic:

Incident 1: As Sarah and I have been doing our last leg of the farewell tour, we've been seeing a lot of folks and then saying goodbye for a least a year. So there are a lot of hugs. But sometimes when I

would think that there would be hugs, there are not. On the same day I went in for a hug only to be denied with one person, and then after a plane ride, I stood back from another person because I didn't think that she would want a hug, but she dove in. I guessed sensibilities incorrectly on both occasions. My buddy Bob, who has to give a lot of hugs in his profession of being a pastor, has introduced me to the art of hug-judging over the years. He can judge instantly who wants no contact, a handshake, the double handshake, the Christian-side-hug and the satisfying, but potentially fraught bear hug. I am not there yet. But his guidance has helped me to think on the connection between religion and touch. Christians, in my experience, tend to go for the side-hug if there is insufficient intimacy for a front hug. That's just what I expect. 

Incident 2: After another going away party last week (we do have incredibly kind friends to keep throwing us these parties) I was counting stars to see when shabbat would be over. I had made a delicious delicacy to use up beverages that were hanging out in our fridge and freezer because we're moving and we need to use up groceries. As sometimes happens when hanging out with friends and waiting for the work week to start, the conversation turned to the Big Lebowski and Walter Sobchak's insistence that he doesn't "roll on shabbes." My buddy Brian wanted to know what Walter's oft repeated phrase shomer shabbes meant. I explained the concept of guarding the Sabbath and keeping it holy. As an allegory, i explained the concept of shomer negiah (lit. guard the touch), which is when you don't touch people of the opposite sex to whom you are not already closely related. I thought about how many hugs i'd given already that evening, and just generally how touchy-feely I am. 

Thoughts: So as we prepare for Morocco, I'm thinking about all the weird touch issues I have. I don't really like having my hand held by men, though that's very common in Morocco. I miss giving and receiving hugs, though for most men, at least, this is not a thing that happens in Morocco. I feel envious of all the cheek-kissing that women do until someone bold cheek-kisses me, and then I remember how much I don't really like it. For me, in years past, when I lived in Morocco with the peace corps, after a year or so of nothing more than a handshake - and breaking free of several hand-hold attempts - I began to feel physically isolated. I am very happily married this time around, so this all may be for naught, but I am thinking about how I'll have to change my physical in-der-Welt-sein. One thing that won't change though, is that I sure like to hold Sarah's hand as we walk