After six weeks of travel, it was time to get a hair trim and color refresher. We had passed many hair shops within a ten minute walk of our hotel and they all looked pretty much alike. Each was tiny since property in the center city is so expensive. So I chose one. In a little space, about 12 ft by 20ft, 10 workers, who speak no English, manage to cram almost an equal number of clients.
Yes, I had some trepidations, but finally figured, what was the worst that could happen? Bad cut…it will grow back. Bad color…Richard, my Dallas stylist, can fix it when I get home.
Turns out each person is responsible for one task in the process, and reminded me of my experiences with the Italian system. First was a quick wash and dry by one attendant. Then two young men together applied the color. This being SE Asia, they were very short. So, coloring was not an easy task for them as, even sitting in the chair, I was still taller than they could see. They were most appreciative when I scrunched down for them. When the color had set, yet another person washed my hair, giving a soothing massage as well. Finally came the master to cut and style.
What a blessing that hair stylists are artists at heart. This man and I could only communicate in sign language, but we managed. As he cut, the other workers would glance over to check on the progress, trying to read my face. It occurred to me that they were as nervous as I had initially been. But, he probably enjoyed the challenge of working on something other than long, straight and black hair. Once he finished cutting he instructed another man on how to begin drying, while he worked on a different client. He then returned to finish the styling and refine the look. He was quite the perfectionist, a quality he shares with Richard.
The best part was everyone’s genuine look of pleasure that I was happy with the result. It was smiles all around and that works in all languages.
(To read about the first cut, CLICK HERE.)