JB's Local Haircut

It was way past time to get my haircut. It was starting to curl, something my mom used to love when I was a young boy, but not such a good status symbol as a grown man. So off I went to try my luck at the local barber. It was a 20-minute walk from where Lindsay and I are staying to the barbershop. I met one of our team members who also needed a haircut in front of the store at 10 am. We were both on time and ready to go. Little did I realize, the adventure was just about to begin.

As we went in, the barber was cutting a man’s hair in the dark. He told the team member with me (aka my translator) that we would need to return at 11 am when the power would probably come back on. Key word – “probably”.

So, to make the most of our hour, we went to the outdoor market next door (called a bazaar). Items ranging from hanging meats to electrical outlets, from pasta to illegally copied DVD and CD’s were all there. As we looked at the many foreign products, the bargain hunters from around the different villages, and the sellers who were anxious to sell you anything they had, I saw a familiar looking word - Mars! I didn’t hesitate much and purchased the Mars bar. Ummmm good. The mud paths through the bazaar were covered with a mix of rocks, ice, snow and water slush which made the experience through the bazaar even more bizarre to this foriegner! (sorry, my bad attempt at a play on words)

We returned to the barbershop at 10:55 am in the dark. At 11 am, the power came back on as he predicted! We were the first to get there and were ready for the barber; the only other men in the shop were two men hammering and sawing a new table together – loudly. We waited. And waited. Two other men joined us to wait. I have learned patience here is a way of life! Not a virtue… a way of life. The barber finally came around 11:30 am. One of the older men who came in after us decided he would go first (without asking), so he sat in the chair and got a quick trim. Once he finished, my friend suggested that I go first. Passing off as being polite, I insisted he go first, but I admit, I wanted to see what the full local haircut would look like first before I took the plunge. I know... I know..... I paid for it later!

His cut looked like it was going fairly well (from the back, at least) with the barber shaving the back of his head with an old electric razor, and seemingly making precise cuts on the top and sides with some regular scissors. Suddenly, what was looking like a decent cut ended promptly. Right at 12 noon all the power went out again. Lovely! (By this time, I am starting to look like one of the Beatles)

This power outage looked to be more lengthy because all cell phone reception was also offline, meaning the electric power plant AND the phone towers were down. My friend reassured me by explaining it was probably a nearby avalanche that had knocked out the lines. Comforting. We could be without power for days! Even more lovely.

We aborted the haircut at that point, walked back to the house where we are staying, and explained the haircut saga to Lindsay and others around. After talking with the rest of the team and learning everyone else had already eaten lunch, my haircut sidekick and I decided to go for lunch at a local Indian restaurant. We peaked into the barbershop on the way, but the lights were still out.

Lunch was good. My stomach is adjusting pretty well – Lindsay and I have both had our moments already though. Lunch was Chicken Tiki Misala, with lemon rice, Indian non (bread), French fries and some RC Cola to wash it down. It hit the spot! AND, the power was restored only after 2 ½ hours or so of being out. That was a relief since it is COLD here.

After lunch, we tried our chances again at the Barbershop – it was 3:15 pm. It didn’t look good at first because all the brushes, scissors, razors, etc. were put up and it appeared the shop was closing up. But the good news is the lights were on, and the Barber got his things back out for my haircut. Along with a series of Russian singers in the background on video that was playing (mainly fat, bald, older white male singers who were dancing around like pop stars with their lips moving about 2 seconds behind the music), along with the lovely noise of the two men hammering that small table…. still…. My haircut began.

Let me cut through the chase (no pun intended) and sum up my experience by repeating what seems to be a universal / cross-cultural truth “you get what you pay for.” The total cost of my haircut was the equivalent of 75 cents. I did, however, leave a tip of another 25 cents (I know, very generous)….. but Lindsay’s expression said it all when I returned. Her look was a slight smile with a nod of approval for the accomplishment of finally getting the haircut (after 6 hours of trying) saying “It looks…. different” with another nod and a smile. Well, I got what I paid for. But hey…. It was quite the experience (and it only cost a dollar!! ☺)

Notice – no picture is attached for viewing!
The adventures in Central Asia continue.

God bless.