There's a Filipino tradition, where when a youth comes in contact with an adult, he or she respectfully touches his or her forehead to the elder person's hand. We call it "bless." My mom usually calls it out too when we do it, either as side commentary for any onlookers who are confused or as if she's granting something like a queen on a divan.
Thing is, I fell out of habit doing this years ago. It could be because in the South, Filipino communities are a little scarce, but it could also be because I felt condescended to when my mom pointed it out like she graced me with her presence. I think that's the point of it sometimes. Either way, when I come into a room of Filipino elders, I usually forgo this custom. I'd rather just fist bump or wave awkwardly or attempt to hug the elder until it gets uncomfortable. I do this often, especially with people on my dad's side, because they always seem confused and push me away slightly as a hint.
I mean, it's not a hug unless it lasts ten seconds, right?
So today, when I met one of my aunt and uncle's neighbors, who so kindly brought some chicken soup she made, I reached out my hand in an offering to shake, and she timidly reached out too. Her hand stretched out, limp.
It was only when I made a grasp at her fingers, rather than my forehead, that she grabbed her hand back, snatched it really, and frowned at me. Only, she wasn't very quick. I had her wrist in my hand, and not really knowing what to do, because dropping it seemed rude, I shook it up and down, before she pulled away.
We stood there for an exaggerated moment, before she wiped her hand with the other, excusing in a quick, broken whisper, some sort of explanation. Meanwhile, I debated whether I should try again or walk away.
She chose the latter option, throwing a "good-bye" over her shoulder and holding her hands tightly, safe from me.