Today's big adventure was getting a haircut. I've been worrying about this since long before we came, because it starts looking like a duckling's fluff after about 3 weeks, and while it's the simplest thing in the world to cut it--electric trimmer on the lowest setting run over everything above the collar--lots of things that are simple get miscommunicated in my sign language. I can't tell you how many times I've ended up with two dinners when I only meant to clarify the one I was ordering.Our street is hair-care central, in a way. There are about six places, but I need to find a local to explain to me what the story is with them. What they LOOK like is fronts for prostitution rings. I never see any customers in them, and there are always about nine or ten young women, dressed in identical cocktail dresses, different each day, either sitting in couches in front looking bored or sitting in the chairs doing one another's hair and makeup.
So I have kept looking for a barber and this morning set out determined to find out. The first two places I went into, the women inside took one look at me and said, "NO," and waved me away.
I finally figured out that the backpacker's ghetto has a few places. These are small shops, an arm-span wide, with an antique barber's chair, a mirror and a fluorescent light. I spotted one with another white person with long hair and wearing a tie--a sure sign of an English teacher who lives here--and figured that was my best bet.
When it came to cutting my hair with the clippers and the lowest setting, my barber knew what I was looking for. The short beard threw him, however. He had an electric razor going before I could stop him. I walked back to the hotel with my hat held over my chin like I was deep in thought and tried to even out what remained of it with my beard trimmer. If you enlarge the picture, you'll see it's pretty patchy.
The haircut cost $1.75, and it's the only thing that I have spent more on here than at home, because usually at home Ilene cuts my hair on a stool in the garage.
-Robert
