The Problem with Hello

Having lived most of my life in New York City, I am conditioned to act in particular ways - a characteristic which I share with all people who live in large metropolis. There are just so many of us in a city, crowded together, on top of one another, in such small spaces. Those unaccustomed to this kind of living must wonder how it is possible to maintain sanity and composure. It is possible because every person is encapsulated by anonymity. Moreover, an unacknowledged agreement exists between every person that that anonymity must not be compromised. That cloak of anonymity, in fact, provides physical space by effacing the existence of others. To acknowledge the other is to deprive ourselves of physical space.

Years of living amongst friendly Midwesterners, I'm afraid had absolutely no effect. But of course, I had no reason to change my habits since I was just passing through. Guadeloupe is different because I intend to stay, at least for a while. M. and I live in a quiet little neighborhood far from the larger cities of Pointe-à-Pitre and Basse Terre; there is simply no physical pressure to provoke the need for anonymity. And of course, there is island culture, which almost demands a certain degree of familiarity and friendliness amongst strangers.

Still, habits die hard. The confrontation of my city attitudes and expected behavior is best illustrated when I pass a stranger on the street. It is absolutely normal - and indeed expected - to greet anybody that one comes across with a simple 'bonjour' or 'bonsoir'. But lacking the habit of doing just that, I find myself in a slight panic whenever I cross somebody else's path. When should I greet them? When our eyes first meet? When we're within arms length of each other? And what happens when we're on opposite sides of the road? Are women expected to initiate, as they do for handshakes?

Even the most insignificant social interaction is a intricate combination of expected attitudes and behaviors. I am completely awkward when it comes to hello. I underestimate the distance my voice will carry and often my greeting dissapates in the air before the person has heard. I hesitate, and there are moments of tense eye contact. I stumble and begin again, greeting them twice. Sometimes my silence is misjudged and the stranger's hello comes too late for me to respond in kind. So lost was I that in the beginning, I ignored adorable grannies and had warm hellos for louche individuals. I am getting better at it; most of my hellos pass now with studied ease. Though I wonder how long it will take before these hellos become an ordinary reaction, and not the result of intense analysis and speculation.