Curb the Avian Flu: Lose the American Handshake

Last year, we had the great fortune of spending a few months in India, mostly Delhi. Until then, I had never given much thought to the curious way Westerners greet each other. In fact, as soon as I arrived I mistook the subtle nodding with the hands clasped together as going along with the best service I had ever known in my life. Everyone I initially met indulged me with my culture and shook my hand. Then I noticed that when people greeted each other, they would join their hands together in a praying motion, nod ever so slightly, sometimes even close their eyes for a moment and say, "Namaste".

Of course, I had performed the obligatory Namaste in Yoga class too, not knowing exactly to what I was praying to but not giving it much attention. All I knew is that it cleared my mind made my back feel fantastic. But I was frankly surprised that this practice extended beyond yoga and pervaded the country. Aside from India's intoxicating scents and colors (worthy of a billion blogs), what struck me most was this special way people encountered each other.

I soon learned that Namaste doesnt really mean Peace as I thought it did. The gesture symbolizes the belief that there is a divine spark within each of us. It literally translates to I bow to you or figuratively, The Divine within me honors The Divine within you. In light of the worlds of persistent religious friction, I'll take Namaste over the dueling guys-in-the-sky (Jesus, Allah, etc.) any day.

During our stay, I took the kids to Jaipur and spent time with an Indian family in Rajasthan. Shivali, the mother, introduced me to an acquaintance of hers that we met while walking in one of the markets. The man wore a beautiful orange turban. "Kimberly meet Anu, Anu meet Kimberly" she said. My right hand jutted forward for an eager shake in the requisite draw-your-weapons-or-reveal-that-you-have-none fashion. I expected our right hands to collide, as usual -- the violent agreement of the handshake--no rigorous pumping, but firm and resolute in a mutual show of strength. After all, even for a woman, there is nothing worse than a limp handshake. Instead, as he put his hands together and he bowed gently, my hand jabbed him in right in his ribcage. I blushed and I looked for the hole in the ground.

After that, I adopted the practice of this style of greeting my remaining time in India. It stayed with me long after we returned to America as well. I became aware of how my movements affected my attitude. It also made me realize how aggressive the handshake really is. With the media atwitter about the prospect of an avian flu pandemic upon us, we have a golden opportunity to stop the unnecessary spread of germs, lose the habit and positively change our attitudes at the same time. Let's change our custom and adopt this better one. So next time you meet someone or see a friend walking down the street, put your hands together and make a little bow. Namaste and A Santé.