I knew coming home to an empty house would be difficult. It was. So, to bust the blues I decided to plan a few things this week. Today is Tuesday...hair cut day! I have included the photo to the right as my "before" photo; it was taken when we set out on our Nile Cruise Adventure. I included it because I want you to see that I did not look HORRIBLE, but it was time for a trim!
Today is my first haircut in Egypt. The last several haircuts I got in Phoenix when I would travel there to visit Megan. I could not wait until August to have it cut again because this weekend Sam and I get to go to the Desert Ball. ( It is held at the Pyramids!) So, I called a place where my friend, Julie, got a great haircut...and they speak English.
Several things were strange for me. First of all, I have not had my hair cut by a man since my nursing-school-girlfriend's boyfriend was going through beauty college. Secondly, I have not had a man wash my hair before, nor have I seen so many men in a beauty salon! There was a man to sweep the hair up off the floor, one to get the tea for me, two shampooers, my hairdresser, Maroun, and a couple of men who just watched. There were a few women doing nails and working the front desk.
M* is French and came to Egypt 7 years ago with a French hairstyle business. He was friendly and personable and talked to me about what I wanted for a haircut. Then, as he cut my hair he just dropped things on the floor and said to me, " I have a bad attitude, I just drop things so they will have something to do." and he glanced at the 'sweeper-guy' to indicate who he was talking about.
M* is particular and gave great attention to my cut. He admitted to being a perfectionist to which I told him, I was fine with that. As he worked on my hair, the room felt like it was getting smaller. I was not wearing my glasses at this point, but I could tell there were a lot of people in the room. At one point, he asked me if I thought one side looked shorter than the other. I put on my glasses, and there were (I counted them) 9 people in the room--all looking at me and speaking french or arabic. "Yes," I replied, "I believe it is." I took off my glasses feeling REALLY self-conscious and as I wondered what was going on, M* told me, "They like your haircut. They tell me I work magic! I am not a magician, I told them...just perfectionist." He called for another clean towel and gave the hairy one to the towel-guy. Another guy steps forward to give my neck a quick brush off but M* took the brush from him and with vigor, swiped at the hair clinging to my neck. He said, " He's afraid of you. If he touch you, he will go to hell." (Moslem religion forbids a man touching a woman who is not his wife.) When he had finished spraying my hair I put my glasses on and looked in the mirror. I could see all these people smiling at me. One gal, beautiful, says to me with a french accent, " zee next time, M* will cut my hair." !!!
(M* remains anonymous to protect me from embarrassment should he find out I told this story!)
