Zoolander: "I'm not an ambi-turner."

While I find myself quite entrenched in the American culture, translation-- white washed, there are certain things that remind me I was raised differently. One of these things is intimacy. Now before your jaws fall off and your mind thinks I am about to expound on my love life, you should probably hold on to your mandibles. What I mean by intimacy is interpersonal contact.

Growing up, I had no doubt of my parent's affection for me, however, they did not always show it outwardly in the form of hugs and kisses. So you could imagine the pre-adolescent awkwardness with which I approached hugging when I first joined a sorority. Later on in life was the two sided cheek kisses in Brasil that had me feeling like a prude robot.

And now, the one-sided cheek kiss greeting in Australia has me stiff as a martini, shaken rather than stirred. Getting accustomed to this cultural act did not come without growing pains (I have the bruises to show for it). There are times where it was a mere gesture accentuated by a "mm-moi" sound to mimic kissing. Then there are other times when it's like a chest bump, except with the cheeks on your face. Usually these are due to over zealousness and both parties are left nursing their tender cheek bones.

The natural order of this greeting was you receive on the right and return on the left; when your greeter kissed you on your right cheek, you were suppose to lean slightly to the left. At least that's what I had gathered until I was sitting on the train with a friend to my left and had to oblige to the social practice in reverse order. I pulled it off, I thought , without too much obvious hesitation or awkwardness. A small victory for the girl who grew up without kisses or hugs. So you see, if Zoolander could turn left under pressure, and I can ambi-kiss on the fly, there's no limit to what lies ahead!

(Zoolander turning left.)