Grüß di ... But how?

Greetings are awkward. First of all, the customs are different in Austria and America: Americans hug, while Austrians do the double-cheek kiss. But that's just the start of the problems. As an American, my normal response would be to hug. But I know that Austrians find it weird to get body-shoved into someone, so I don't wanna do that. The Austrian I'm greeting would normally go for the bussi-bussi, but knows I don't like to put my lips on people unless I'm trying to crawl in bed with them. So neither of us makes the first move, trying not to make the other one uncomfortable. And we just end up feeling unsatisfied, as if we actually don't give a shit about each other, even though that's not true at all.

During my semester in Austria, I would sometimes imagine myself returning to Harvard and seeing my good friends again. We would run to each other, throw our arms around each other, and squeeze until neither of us could breathe. And that's what eventually happened. The scene in Kirkland Dining Hall resembled that of kids greeting their soldier parents just arrived home from overseas. During my months abroad, though, I could taste that homecoming, because I knew what it would look like. I'd be getting what I wanted -- a hug from good friends -- and would be giving them what they wanted at the same time. And that just made my excitement grow.

Fast forward to April. Yes, I am coming back to Austria in the summer: my tickets are booked, my housing is secured, I'm picking up the check from Harvard in the next few days. It's what I've wanted all semester, and I can't wait to see my friends again. But I can't imagine this homecoming as well as I could my return to Harvard. And that makes me nervous. When I see my Austrian friends again -- will they still count me as a friend, when I no longer live with them? -- will we hug, overcome with happiness at being together again? Or will we awkwardly say hello, and then realize we have absolutely nothing to say to each other?

This is the potential downside of coming back. I have such perfect, wonderful memories of Austria. Either Austria is exactly the way I remember it, in which case going back for eight weeks, only to leave it again, is going to be like pouring salt in wounds that are finally starting to heal. Or Austria is not as great as I remember it, in which case going back will ruin the memories I do have of the country, and it would have been better to just let sleeping dogs lie.

I can't imagine my return because I honestly don't know what to expect.