Hair Cut - 31/10/11

AM wanted a haircut. I foolishly saw this as an opportunity to fix my disaster of a hair-do previously cut by a friend who had never cut hair before. She left me with a very well defined layer near the front of my head. It looked like a toupee on top of a long fringe. Surely a Rundu salon can save it.

AM and I got a taxi to a tiny concrete building that didn't look too different to an old bunker; the type you might find by a canal that has been taken over by coke addicts as a drug den. The only difference visible from outside are the words 'Beauty Salon' painted on. Instead of a canal there was sand and inside instead of crack addicts there were men armed with clippers. Lighting was very dim and the furniture was tatty, there was a picture of Will Smith among other men with hairstyles beyond the capability of the hairdressers here. Of course a large mirror was on the wall and there was an extension cord for the shavers. Compared to most salons here (which there are many) this was nice. Others were just metal or wooden huts, one of which cleverly named 'Tacky Hair Salon'.

I told AM I wanted a trim, just a little shorter. AM explains. The barber offers to remove my stubble too at no extra cost. Why not accept a free shave? Besides most don't shave themselves here.

Covered in sweat with my hair sticking to my face I am sat down to begin. No washing, combing or touching of the hair was done. Zee, the barber, started by getting a clipper and diving straight in with no grade attached, removing chunks from my fringe. Once most my fringe has disappeared he moves on to the chin. No foam or water, just the scorching hot, blunt, unclean electric razor. The pain was comparable to that of when I got my tattoo. Sharp hot pain hit me every time the razor touched my skin. My head was flinching back on every contact as a natural reflex. Once finished, to my relief, he holds up a bottle. I asked what it was and he replied "A spirit". It stung like a bitch and smelt like a very cheap vodka.

I looked in the mirror and he asked if it was OK. Being in such poor lighting I thought it did. I paid the N$15. AM took the seat next as I waited with a sore neck. Half way through his cut Zee asked me for N$10 to buy a beer. I said no as a drunk man with razors is a bad idea.

When I got home I washed off the blood covering my neck and checked the hair in my pocket mirror. It turns out it does not look OK. Not OK by a long way. I have normal-ish hair up until my fringe where I have uneven shaved hair going back onto my head an inch or two. Some hair from further back almost covered the shipwreck of a hairstyle but not enough. I have worn a hat ever since.

In passing a few days later we popped in to say hi since AM knew them quite well. When about to leave Zee stopped AM and took all his change out of his pocket for a beer and said his next hair cut will be free.