THE HAIR SALOON

What do you think of when you hear the word, "saloon." I always think of some western movie where big bad villain slowly struts into a bar. You can hear the ching-chang, ching-chang, of his spurs as he approaches the door. As the two half-sized doors swing open, all the saloon patrons immediately look to see who it is.

As the stranger walks into this saloon he quickly notices that it quite a bit different than his "western" style. There is no alcohol, no one playing cards, and no one slinging 6-shooters. This is a HAIR SALOON. Well, maybe they were trying to spell hair salon, but hair saloon is close enough.

I mean, c'mon this is practically a saloon. From the pink walls to the men giving each other face and back massages. You have got to love living in a place where the price of a roll of toilet paper costs the same as 3 haircuts. Yes the TP is a bit expensive (about a $1 per roll), but the haircuts are way cheap. These aren't just any haircuts either.

I love getting haircuts here because its a full fledged experience. One haircut costs about 50 cents - and that includes scissor work, not just some old lady at "the" Wal*Mart Supercenter whacking at you with a small weed-eater.

My first experience at the hair saloon will not be forgotten. When I walked in, I had to ask them "Is this the hair saloon?" with a half smile. The barbers jumped up and offered me his seat in a large barber's chair. I really didn't know what to expect. I also didn't know what he was going to do. Have you ever tried describing what kind of hair cut you want in a different language. I'm not real picky when it comes to haircuts, although my wife would disagree with that. I pretty much just waved him on to just start cutting and we'll see what happens.

He starts going to town with his scissors. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. His fingers cut so fast, it almost sounded like a lawn sprinkler. After a couple seconds of cutting he would swing his arms together and clap. I think he was knocking the hair out of the scissors with a comb. It was impressive.

As Bollywood films have an intermission, so do haircuts. Halfway through the haircut, the barber stops and hands me an EXTREMELY hot cup of tea. It was so hot I could barely hold it, let alone drink it. It's a good thing I am still wearing my little hair-catcher backwards-cape thing. It's a little difficult to drink hot tea while being covered in your own hair. I feel kinda bad because there men still waiting for haircuts, but I can't drink my tea any faster, it is practically boiling. After tea, he finishes up my hair using the good 'ol straight razor. I look like I should be a character on Grease with my new 50's style "do."

Next comes the shave. I am a little nervous about this. First he takes his wet hands and starts rubbing them all over my face. It feels like he is trying to open my face like a coconut. Then he starts working up the lather using a horsehair brush. He starts slapping lather all over my face like he's basting a turkey. After five minutes, he seriously kept putting more and more on until I looked like Santa.

Then shaves my face with the razor with the precision of a surgeon. I don't know how he makes it looks to easy. Then he starts up again with the lather. I thought he was finished. After being lathered and shaved for the second time. I was expecting aftershave in a bottle or something, but he pulls out this big ice-cube looking thing. It tastes really salty, but it takes the burn right out.

It's been fun, but it's time to go. I start standing up and he quickly tells me to sit down. We are not finished. He then proceeds to pull out a tiny white string. I'm thinking one thing....IS HE GOING TO FLOSS MY TEETH? He pushes my head back in the chair and somehow starts plucking out eyebrow hairs with this string. I have never seen anything like it.

After the plucking, its over...or is it? He quickly grabs a small hand held machine from the cabinet. It looks like a hand blender or something. "It is definitely time to go now," I am thinking to myself. He starts going to town with the head massager. Yeah! This thing is awesome! I was feeling smarter already.

Then he says it's time for your back massage. My What?! I am not sure exactly what they consider a back massage to be but this felt more like I was going through a smacking machine. For some reason he start smacking my back like he's petting Shamu. Before I know it, he lifts my arm behind my head and TWISTS! POP! Whoa! He does the same to other arm. This is when I start to worry. I don't think this guy has a chiropractic license. It's too late, he grabs my head and starts twisting. A snap, crackle, and pop later it is definitely time to go.

I stand up and say, "That was the best hair cut I have ever had. Can I come back tomorrow?"

Handshakes and Hold on!

        Just as the words we use are a reflection of our language and culture, so are our movements and gestures toward one another. In America, there are many unspoken "guidelines" regarding physical contact between men.
        For example, when you run into a friend on the road or at the store, a handshake is the customary greeting.The friendly handshake should last no more than a second or two. The classic "firm shake two times" is commonly modified in a variety of ways, such as "the high five," "gimme some skin," or "the daps." Such expressions of greeting and friendship are widely used, but rarely discussed. This can be attributed to the lack of interest in topics that are completely irrelevant.
        Well, one might assume that these kinetic gestures are the same or similar in all cultures. On the contrary, in a culture where male hand-holding is the norm, one can only imagine what types of expression are to be expected. To the untrained eye, handshakes in this culture might appear to be the same, but after careful observation the truth is revealed.
        The first group of handshakers are my personal favorite. They have mastered the initial approach, which appears to be the same. Then after being received they do not let go until the conversation is complete.
        It begins with a friendly smile proceeded with a glance at one's right hand as it is being extended to the recipient. As the recipient returns the right-handed gesture, their hands meet and the "shaking" begins. This is where fun begins. Instead of simply letting go of the shake, this shaker continues to hold on so that the person can't leave.
        This "cuffing" continues in 100+ degree weather despite the amount of sweat building between the two 98+ degree hands. Efforts to escape are futile. All the subtle tugging in the world cannot escape this oppressive grip. It's hard to focus on listening when one's hand is a prisoner.
        At first, the hand holding between friends made me feel a little uncomfortable, but I am slowly getting used to it. I am grateful to have friends who are willing to reach over and grab my hand in the middle of the mall so that everyone knows we are pals.

Happy Burtday Sean!

        Today is my brother Sean's 9th Birthday! He is a totally awesome little brother. He is the only person I know who can totally whip me in Playstation baseball. Pretty soon he will be smacking them over the fence in real life!
        I am so proud to have a great brother like Sean. I miss him like crazy and I sure wish I could be there with him to celebrate today. He's probably totally embarrassed by this post, but I don't care. I am the older brother and therefore it is my responsibility to embarrass my little brother at least a little bit. You ROCK Sean! Keep being awesome! I love you.
- ADAM -

Cowboy Slim!

        Adam, the mild mannered language student, was on his way to his Hindi class. For the most part, this two mile walk is uneventful on most days. This thursday was unlike any other thursday. The air was so alive that it burned in the nostrils. Perhaps it was pollution or the human waste river a half-mile away. Either way, it stunk and my story has yet to begin. Our young, dashing, and charismatic hero Adam, like I said, was on the way to his Hindi lesson. He was walking past the park near his house where the grass is green and the ground is uneven.
        Suddenly he noticed, with his keen sense of sight and razor-sharp perception skills, that two ordinary cows had wandered into the park for an afternoon snack of dandelions (oh wait, they don't grow here), and Indian itchy grass. Then a middle-aged man and woman begin waving sticks at these docile, yet highly "advanced" creatures. It seems they want the cows to leave the park. The two people are herding them towards the fence. Although the cow is worshipped and revered above all creatures, it is not allowed to eat the park grass and neither are you.
        With the pending "whacking" that awaits them, the mother cow easily slips out the park gate into the safety of the street, where cows feel safest, naturally. The younger, less experienced, adolescent cow tries to show off his "athleticism" by clearing the 3 feet high fence with one jump. What occurs next may not be suitable for small children. Well this young cow ended up only making it halfway over. The fence was just low enough that his feet could barely touch on either side. The man and woman weren't much help. They thought they could perhaps motivate the young bull over the fence with a large bamboo stick. For the next few minutes, I looked around for the hidden cameras and laughed to myself without showing any disrespect to the "holiest" of heifers.
        Someone had to come to the rescue and this looked like a job for Cowboy Slim! (that's me with a cool name...). It took a few minutes of examination to figure out how to save this young lad. Should I push him forward or push him backward? I really didn't want to get kicked in the face and my horticultural experience is pretty limited except for a few failed "tippin'" attempts.
        The time had come! This cow is going over the wall! I decided that forward would be the easiest direction. I took a nice firm grip around the "hindquarters" and after a couple grunts and heaves he was over. Successful! Cowboy Slim to the rescue!