Turn the other cheek.

Klimt is my favorite painter. The above work entitled "The Kiss" is a masterwork of gold, mosaic and new emotion. There is a lot of kissing in Spain. Not much of it is romantic. If you've ever seen a movie where an older lady grabs someone's face with both hands and plants one on each cheek - welcome to my world.

In Spain, you always kiss the right cheek first and then the left. Actually, to be fair, you don't plant one with your lips, you just make a kissy sound while touching cheeks. This is very awkward for Americans. This is very awkward for people who know that you are American. There is always a flash of hesitation by both parties - "should I stick out my hand for a shake or just kiss?" The last couple of weeks I have waited for them to act first. If they lunge for my face, I act like I've been lunging all of my life, and make a little smacky sound for their ears as we brush cheeks. I've been told that a person can come across as cold if you remain at arm's length at the beginning of an introduction. But there are many unwritten rules...

Men just do not seem to participate in kissing one another. American males will never do this. Spanish males will never do this with American males because the whole unspoken tally of machismo would be threatened. Lady's certainly kiss each other, and men certainly kiss all of the ladies. Also, in an international church setting, never kiss an African man unless he is from a french-speaking nation in Africa. But the general rule as I was told is "Just get used to kissing." and "When in doubt, pucker up."

That is just what I did to one of the young ladies of unknown nationality we had just met this morning at church. After going in the second time for the next cheek I realized with much horror that she had been holding her hand out for a handshake. I pretended everything was normal, and her lady companion stepped in for her turn. Now, to you single men, this may seem fun, but I can assure you that I have sampled many a cosmetic foundation, and have spent a few moments in the mirror each evening wiping the blush and Clinique products from my formerly manly jaw line.

The situation for my wife is a little different. She gets to kiss men and women of all ages. In the states she use to complain about my prickly whickers (what few I have) whenever they scoured her face. Now all manner of foreign men, including the pastor, Juan Antonio, get to rub her little face raw with their various whisker textures.

There is also a little international variation on the right cheek being first. In Italy, it is the LEFT cheek that is presented first. If one is used to the RIGHT cheek as being the prima cheek, and you lunge in toward an Italian, be prepared to meet head-on in the middle. This has led to many a cosmopolitan missionary from Spain getting a wet-one planted on them from members of the same sex and various age ranges.

But really, I have forced many people back with the arm outstretched for the handshake and it comes across as very cold if they are not used to the custom. I don't like to push people away, So I will be kissing you the next time I see you. Especially the guys at Homer's.

Spain is a Latin culture, and latins are warm.

Today a missionary took us into a hidden courtyard. There was an old hippy playing a melodic melody on a 6-string guitar in a minor key. Two dogs lay quietly beside him. The courtyard was well-shadowed by tall buildings. There was only one way in. The front of one grand building was pock-marked with bullet holes from the days of turmoil under Franco. I left my friends in the sunlight and walked further toward the wall. There were many small craters and large craters that were very deep from the concentration of bullets. All of the damage was scattered from about my waist to about a foot above my head along the wall. I wondered how many people had been put up against this wall. I wanted to place my fingers in the bullet holes to touch the jagged stone, but I did not because it seemed a sort of sacrilege to the many that never got to say goodbye to the people they loved.

Did they wear blindfolds? Did they get a final prayer or ask for a last cigarette? Or did they just stare down their executioners and at the last instant... slightly turn their cheek.