Today I got a haircut

August 3rd, 2009 • 3 comments ICTR Internship, Personal
Tags: barber, hair, hairdresser, Personal

One of the last things I did before leaving Melbourne, all the way back in March, was to get a quick haircut. It was literally a few minutes before heading out the door for the airport that I sat down and got a quick buzzcut – number two all over.

Unfortuneately, due to the rush, it wasn’t exactly the best haircut I’d ever received and so I’ve been wrestling with a head of uneven hair ever since.

image source: willpate
So today I found a local hairdresser (and masseuse according to the sign on the door) and got a haircut.

I walked in, asked “Shillingi ngupi?” and was told it would cost about AU$5 for a haircut. Though I’m a terrible bargainer I had been told that I shouldn’t pay more than AU$3, and around AU$2 is a reasonable price. So I offered AU$3 – which he immediately accepted. I probably could have gone for AU$2, but I’m a terrible bargainer and didn’t want the man holding the scissors to have any feelings of resentment towards me.

When my German friend attempted to get a haircut here in Arusha the lady was too shocked that a mzungu would even ask for a haircut to do anything. She shook her head and told him “No, I can’t!” He offered her money but she still said no and when he asked her where he could go for a haircut she said that no-one in Arusha could cut his hair! He somehow managed to convince her to try and she took out her scissors and warily snipped one lock of his hair. She then returned the scissors to her belt observed her handiwork cautiously before withdrewing them for another attempt.

Needless to say not much of his hair was cut during that expedition (despite it costing him AU$10).

My hair cut was a rather different affair. The barber fluffed up my crazy mixed-race hair and expertly removed the lot of it. It seems that barbers here specialise in the buzzcut – the few mzungus that have gotten their hair cut here have all returned with a faux-military look.

I think my barber might have been a bit surprised when he started cutting my hair as even though my skin is darker then the average mzungu, my hair left Africa a long time ago. Not only are my genes a motely arrangement of German/French/British/Zulu, but my youthful experimentation with hair straighteners hasn’t been too kind on my follicles.

We had a few hiccups as my hair jammed up his buzzer, but, apart from his inability to remove my sideburns, I think it came out looking all right. Although I don’t think I’ll be posting photos anytime soon.

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