The Blog

Yesterday I ventured into a hair salon. A young man approached me and said bonjour. I quickly replied, "parlez vous l'anglais?" A doubtful look came over his face and he said "a little". I showed him a picture and he shook his head and said he could do it. Maybe at the point that he said that he spoke only a little bit of English I should have been fearful and ran away--not willing to get my hair cut by a man that spoke only a little bit of English. I was feeling brave though & had made up my mind that I would have my hair cut. I knew if I ran now I would never do it. So, I laid my head back and let him wash my hair. Having your hair washed by someone else is really a relaxing thing. I have been wandering why I see so many hair salons here advertise just a wash and a brush and now I know...its a good way to unwind. Not only do they wash and pull at your hair, they massage your scalp and your neck. Back to the event at hand though. After having my wash done I was sent to another chair where I was offered a French magazine and a cup of coffee. These things I declined as I wanted to be fully aware of what was going on with my hair cut. The first little man disappeared and out came a much bigger man in his place. He had a slicked back pony tail, a black button up shirt, and was wearing prayer beads around his wrist.. He tried speaking French at me. I smiled back and said "english?" A look ran over his face that I have seen run over countless faces in the last two months--part sadness, part fear. We shared a few words of English as he looked at the picture I had brought and exclaimed, "new woman!" I nodded...I wanted to tell him that I had been growing my hair out for the last three years and that this was a big deal for me, I wanted him to console me and tell me I would look great with the new doo! All this was lost for a lack of communication though. I started to feel better though as most of the people in the shop gathered round and were smiling at me and talking very excitedly in French and I could pick out a few words that were positive. More and more of my hair began to appear on the floor. Panic mode took over as I began to question what I was doing...but as he began to style it I began to realize that I loved it.  He asked, "you like?" I nodded and said, "I love!"   Now a large majority of my hair is gone and I feel better than I have felt about it in awhile.  This isen't a great picture, but it will have to do for now.