Today... I got a haircut

Today I got a haircut. As I came to work I felt a little uneasy. The malaria prevention medication advises to be taken on an empty stomach, with lots of water. However, even with a lot of water, the lack of food makes it uneasy. So I came to work, and then I got ready for breakfast. I skipped it this morning, and once I checked in [and checked the day's work] I went to go for a snack. After a doughnut and a glass of orange juice from Perera and Sons I stopped for a haircut.



Beautiful haircut.



As I approached the shop the cashier, sitting next door, motioned to his friend to come give me a haircut. I had come early and there was no wait. I sat down, and a starched white linen was wrapped around my shoulders, snug carefully with my neck. I motioned how I would like the haircut, 3 on the sides, top like this, and he knew, he had cut my hair before.



He took out about eight brushes looking for the right one.

He found it, and took out the shaver. Smoothly, carefully he cuts the hair, carefully using scissors on the top. Always he is examining it from different angles, making sure not a single lock, nay hair is out of place.

After about 20 minutes of careful styling, I am beaming all the time. It is good to know the work is appreciated, and I try to show it. He has cut my hair before, and takes a new razor blade out of the paper wrapper and places it in the holder to cut the specks of hair beneath and up to the sideburns, and around the ears. Not a speck is missed.

Finally, baby powder is placed on a towel and used to take off the cut hair. The white cloth is taken off, and I stand. I am somewhat embarrassed as there is some hair clinging to my trousers. The barber catches sight of it, and moves his towel from swishing the loose hair off the back of my shirt to that on my trousers. I try to wipe it off hurriedly, so much to do seems embarrassing.

I sit in the empty plastic chair as a friend takes the next customer into a barber chair that is waiting.

I wait for the price from the cashier, a well dressed fellow with a tie, white short sleeve shirt with collar, and a build that reminds me of my grandpa, who was a vice president of a company.

The barber who just cut my hair tells him the price, and it is repeated to me. 70 rupees. So I paid the equivelant of 67 US cents for the best haircut of my life.

I tipped him 20 rupees more.