We went for a family haircut yesterday. A local place which is very good and cost s the children R100 each (50p) and me R400 (£2) I like it because, as with all sri lankans, they love children, and let my two play with the rollers, stick clips in each other's hair, spray the mister at one another and sweep the cuttings off the floor, and generally treat the place like the "Imaginative Play" corner of a nursery. The only thing missing was a plastic cash register......
I don't like the condensed milk nescafe they serve up as 'coffee' (but this is 'normal' coffee in Sri Lanka) and I'm not entirely sure about the way they dry my hair. But this, it seems, is normal for me.
I have now been to three different hairdressers. The 1st asked if I would like my hair dried "straight or 'flicky'" Uncertain of what 'flicky' might entail and knowing how in the UK hairdressers always insisted on drying my hair straight , I second guessed and said 'straight'. she replied (quite assertively, in this very non-confrontational culture) "I think I'll dry it 'flicky'." So away we went.
And flicky it certainly was. I came out looking like one of Charlie's Angels, with a flick Farrah Fawcett Majors, or even Lady Di, would have been proud of.
Unfortunately I was meeting the family at the zoo, so I had to 'go public' with the 'do'. Needless to say I provided my family with a welcome diversion from watching unfortunate elephants head swaying and caged tigers pacing. I guess going to a zoo in a devloping country is asking for trouble. And this one isn't bad, compared to say Eastern europe, but still... I was pleased my hair provided some light relief.
On another occasion, and at another hairdressers, the lady dried my hair and just kept going, creating more and more fluffiness, until I looked like rather unappetising blonde candy floss. She finally finished and stood back beaming at me in the mirror admiring her work, and said "There, just like Barbie."
Who was I to point out that Barbie may be an aspirational icon of pale Western beauty, and perfection in Asia, in the West she is a pariah of female oppression and male fantasy....... Amongst us women born in the 60s and 70s anyway.
I just smiled sweetly, in what I hoped was a suitably Barbie-ish way, wobbled my head and said "hari, hari" ('ok, fine'.)
Fortunately I wasn't due at the zoo that day, or even the monkeys would have been laughing...
