Where I grew up, the rules for family life are very strict. My
parents taught me that I should respect grandparents more than anyone else
because grandparents had lived the longest. They had more knowledge about life,
and no matter what they said, even if it did not make sense, they were right.
Hugging or kissing grandparents was disrespectful. Instead, I was told to greet
them by kissing their hand. I thought that everyone lived and thought just as I did. I soon
found out this is not true.
One day, an American friend invited
me to her birthday dinner. I was excited but at the same time nervous. I wanted her family to like me, and I
wanted to use my best manners. Slowly, I walked up to the house and rang the bell. My friend came running out with a big smile, telling me she was happy that
I came. Then she let me in and introduced me to her parents. They smiled and
said hello. Later my
friend said, “Come here. I want you to meet my grandpa.” I followed her into the living room where her grandfather was sitting. She introduced us, and he reached out his hand. He was going to
shake hands, but I thought he expected me to kiss his hand, so I did. He pulled his hand away and looked at me in a strange way.
Everyone else in the room looked at me, and my friend started laughing.
I was confused. I sat down and tried to figure
out what had happened. Just then, a little boy ran to my friend’s
grandfather and jumped on his lap. The little boy started to hug and kiss the
grandfather. When I
saw this, I got up, grabbed the little
boy, and said, “NO.” I guess I said it
loudly because the room became silent, and all
eyes were on me.
The next day at
school my friend asked me why I kissed her grandfather’s hand and why I told
the little boy to get away from his grandfather. I explained my customs to her,
and she explained hers to me. I learned that good manners are not the same in
different countries. Fortunately, my friend and I stayed very good friends.
