The Haircut

The other thing I forgot to mention that happened last week is that I went to get a haircut, a big risk here as they don't really know how to cut Mazungu hair. (It was after this that I was at an HIV seminar given by one of the other volunteers where they said you can get HIV at the barber if they don't clean the blades properly and they cut you).

I asked someone on the farm who is around volunteers and might know and he sent me to a place that was apparently new. They charged me 500 KSh, which is less than $10 (but which is a lot here). So not worrying about the money and needing a haircut I agreed and sat in the chair offered.

First they took off my shoes (sport sandals) which I thought a bit odd, but what the heck, I don't know the local custom. Maybe they just do that to make you comfortable. Of all the things to steal, my shoes would probably have been the last thing they could have sold for money given the colour of my feet. Then the guy washed my face and hair with a warm cloth and I thought "OK, they'll shave me too. No problem. I've had that before. I shaved this morning but so what." But they didn't in the end (Judging by the colour of the face cloth when they finished, I think they were probably just cleaning the filthy Mazungu). Then he started cutting my hair and though I was a bit worried I've had some bad cuts in my time and it grows in a week so I tried my best to smile (since talking was limited by the barber's very limited English). That is about the last part of the "haircut" that resembled what I'm used to.

After a while, someone else came in with warm water and started washing my hands. She washed right up to my elbows and then started cleaning under my fingernails (which were more black than white) and filing my nails. Meanwhile another guy started cleaning my other arm and hand.

I began to feel bad for them all when they had to get more clean water because I was so dirty. That was the point at which they moved on to my feet and began washing all the way up to my knees and under my toenails. Not bad I thought. A manicure and a pedicure thrown in with the haircut. I could get used to this.

So then they asked me to get up and go to the sink where they washed my freshly cut hair. No problem. They'd given me nice comfy sandals to wear while I was there. On the way I discovered what happened to my shoes. Someone else was cleaning them. They were cleaning my shoes!! Not just rinsing them. Scrubbing the red African soil out of every crevass. Once they'd finished I wanted to stay there not only because it was so great but also because my shoes were never going to be this clean again!

But they weren't done yet. After the hair wash, I returned to the chair, which they reclined way back and proceeded to give me a short head and shoulder massage. They then took a hair dryer, or at least I thought so, until they blew it on my face and I realised it was warm but also humidified air. So they exfoliated my face and I just lay there and enjoyed the pampering.

They returned my shoes in pristine condition and I gladly handed over my money plus a handsome tip, for although tipping is not common here at all I felt not only did they deserve it but they'd been through a fairly unpleasant experience. And it still came to less than $10. I think I'll start going weekly!

And the haircut was pretty good too.