If a Fist Bump is Good Enough for the Obamas...

Aaa - Italian manners fail. I came home a few minutes ago to find a maintenance guy doing some work at our house. When I went to say hello and shake his hand, he extended the back of his wrist to my extended hand because he was wearing greasy work gloves. I felt that brief freak-out flash of "there's something I've learned I'm supposed to do in this situation!!" but the freak-out part of my brain froze all thinking. My reflex was to bump the back of my wrist against his, like an awkward fist bump. Naturally, as soon as the moment passed, it hit me: I learned in indoc class that an Italian will always want to be polite and shake your hand, but if his hand is dirty, he will extend the back of his wrist instead; I was supposed to grasp and shake his wrist as if it was his hand. (Would you have thought of that?? You would have wrist-bumped too, right??)

The crazy annoying thing is that in Indoc, I was the student to whom the instructor extended his wrist to teach the proper response. I know better! The guy is still working outside, and I'm inside unable to let go of my faux pas. I want to run out there and have a do-over; show him that I'm not a gauche American, I'm a cool, Italian-knowledgable American!

But since it's also dawning on me that when I thought I was asking him if he'd like some water, I actually said, "I want water?" (no wonder he looked at me so oddly before declining), I think I'll just stay inside and begin patching and reinforcing my dignity in preparation for my next awkward Italian encounter.  There will always be a next awkward encounter.  And that's ok, because nestled between the painfully awkward moments are moments of blissful break-through and gratifying communication.  Some very smart people have taught me that you only get better by finding the very end of your comfort zone and then taking another step.