In Miami, a greeting usually means a kiss or a hug. Coronavirus may be changing that.
At the office, even before everyone was sent to work from home, Danny Reyes has been practicing safe greeting: no handshakes, no hugs, and certainly no cheek-kissing — the standard form of greeting in Miami, where the physical expression of friendship and affection is deeply rooted in culture and identity.
At home, too, Reyes, a Miami-Dade County commissioner’s aide, has been keeping his distance from his roommate by mutual agreement, knowing that if one is infected with the highly contagious new coronavirus, the other could easily get it as well.
But when it came time to meet his Cuban-born parents and siblings for a family birthday dinner out last weekend, there was little the Hialeah-raised Reyes could do to fend them off, coronavirus threat or not.
“My family was not changing their habits,” he said. “They were still hugging and kissing. I told them they should not be doing that. They didn’t really listen to me. It was like, ‘I haven’t seen in you in X amount of days, so of course I’m going to give you a hug.’ “
Across Miami-Dade, those like Reyes who are hyper-aware of the threat posed by the new virus — those infected can pass it on without showing symptoms — are hewing to the social distancing urged by experts by adopting a wide range of alternatives. It may be a little wave for a greeting, or the Wakanda crossed-arms-on-chest salutation, or even agreeing to meet for a dinner date over Skype.
One running group that meets twice a week to do a loop in Kendale Lakes decided to refrain from the usual close group selfie, instead posing the requisite six feet apart while doing warmups, said group regular Nanda Klein, who is from Brazil. Greetings were “low-fives” — tapping running shoes to say “hi,” rather than the usual hugs and dual kisses on the cheek. And definitely not the triple pecks of her native Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Sul, Klein said.
“Until this past weekend we were still doing it, but this weekend we were debating, and we decided we should be smart about it,” Klein said. “The rule was no touching and bring your own water; usually we shared our water. It’s common sense, except for one friend who came late and wanted to hug.”
But other people are finding it hard, not to say impossible, to give up ingrained habits of greeting and family socializing closely tied to their immigrant roots in Latin America and the Caribbean — customs, by the way, that many in Miami with no recent immigrant background at all have broadly adopted as well.
Friends may be more understanding, but when Papi or Manman lean in for a spot of warm physical affection, it’s hard to say no.
“It’s already hard enough, with just the waving. You like to get a hug,” said North Miami vice-mayor Alix Desulme, who was born in Haiti. “The hardest is with the kids.”
But in Desulme’s city, with one of the largest Haitian populations outside of Haiti, the double kiss is standard greeting. The city has been trying to educate residents, running a campaign explaining social distancing recommendations through social media, faith groups and radio, a principal source of information for Creole speakers. Because the city also has a growing Hispanic population, the messages are also in Spanish, Desulme said.
It’s working, though there are holdouts, he said.
“We are seeing the changes drastically. The double hug, the double kisses don’t happen now,” Desulme said. “We get people to just wave. We have a small population that hasn’t gotten the message yet, but we are adjusting as a culture.”
Like others, Desulme once or twice has forgotten himself, and once reflexively went in for the hug — but the recipient reminded him of the need to keep apart.
“It’s a whole community thing,” Desulme said.
Another time, when Desulme reminded a constituent to practice social distancing, the constituent argued the virus isn’t real.
“We know we are going to have those cases. I try to explain this is not a joke,” he said.
There were, in fact, signs this week that many in Miami were not abstaining from hand-clasping, back-clapping or cheek-mashing, even as hard-hit France barred people from leaving home, San Francisco bay area counties in California issued “shelter in place” orders and President Donald Trump advised against gatherings of more than 10 people.
In Miami-Dade, where restaurants and bars remain open for business under orders limiting capacity and hours, many people were out and about. Nor was there much social distancing evident at stores, in cafes or on the street.
Seven people huddled around the famed coffee ventanita at Versailles late in the afternoon, speaking to one another in close proximity. A smattering of diners was inside.
“There’s usually a line for coffee and a line for the restaurant, but people don’t want to take any risks,” said Jose Perez. a 71-year-old retired physicist who meets six friends at the window every evening. The group was down to four on Monday “because some wives have told their husbands not to come,” Perez said.
“I’ll keep coming until we are told that not even two people are allowed to congregate. We are practicing the one-meter distancing rule. I have seen fewer people kissing and hugging. I have advised my older friends not to shake hands because if you get it, you’re done,” Perez said, slitting his throat in pantomime.
Along Miracle Mile in Coral Gables at mid-day Monday, shopping and eating activity was lighter than usual, but people were out to lunch and shaking hands and giving air kisses in greeting.
Three high school seniors from Naples stuck with their plan to shop for prom dresses despite trepidation that their May 9 prom will be canceled. They said they’re not worried about the implications of social interaction at the prom — or in daily life.
They still greet friends and relatives with embraces and kisses on the cheek, said Dayerlin Cruz, who drove to Coral Gables with twin sister Kimberlin and friend Samantha Calero.
“I don’t think coronavirus has changed how we say hello or goodbye,” Cruz said. “I’m not so worried. Right now, I know it’s a problem but I also think there’s a lot of overreaction. I give hugs and kisses like I normally do.
The friends said the main alteration they’ve made is to apply hand sanitizer regularly, like when they attended the Collier County Fair.
Homayoun Khaleeli, a hair dresser at the Well-Groomed Gentleman salon, said he grew up in a Muslim household with the three-kiss, alternating-cheeks tradition. But for now, he’s being cautious and wearing gloves at work.
“I have a doctor who is a regular client in my chair and usually we hug, but we just shook hands. He’s the last person I’d want to get sick,” Khaleeli said -- as a colleague kissed him goodbye for the day.
Lori Vernon works as a cook and server at Pinch Me restaurant so she’s used to giving elbow bumps to co-workers to avoid spreading germs in the kitchen. She said the main alteration she’s made in her daily life is not exchanging any kisses with her 3-year-old son.
“I have always found the Miami greeting awkward anyway,” said Vernon, a native of South Carolina. “When I moved here, it was culture shock. I was like, ‘Why are you touching me when we are complete strangers?’ I have my bubble and I don’t want people I don’t trust to invade it.
“But I realize people have different definitions of personal space. With the virus going around, more people are hermitting and relying on technology -- although my X Box server was down all night.”
At JohhMartin’s, the popular Irish pub, the owners were still hoping for a good crowd for St. Patrick’s Day on Tuesday. Co-owner Martin Lynch said he has little choice but to stay open if possible, given that it’s their busiest day of the year. The scheduled bagpiper will be performing.
“We will limit capacity and spread out seating,” Lynch said. “It will be a scaled-down St. Patrick’s Day. We have to make the most of it and this is the only authentic one around so if people want to come, they can come.”
This story was originally published March 17, 2020 at 6:00 AM.