My Haircut “cut”
Saloon Essentials was practically empty when I walked in. Walk-in appointment? For a mzungu? No problem.
10 minutes later it was packed.
A woman sat down in the chair beside me. The back half of my head had short hair. The front was still long and down over my eyes.
“Hello, sweetheart! Would you mind if Alex did my hair first? It’s not for me. We have to be at the church at 2. So, could you wait?”
“Um, my husband and my child are waiting. I’m sorry. I can’t wait.”
“Oh, no problem. No problem.”
But she just sat there.
I realized that this was an entire wedding party packed into the salon (or “saloon” – if you believe their sign). The photographer was instructed to get “the progression.” The flower girl sat on the other side of me and patiently allowed her hair to be curled and pinned. The videographer ran around with his camera at waist level and captured…what? Everybody’s navel?
The woman began to speak to Alex in Kinyarwanda. I could tell he was placating her. Then she switched to English, “What is the meaning of a ‘booking?'” and back off in Kinyarwanda.
I surmised that they had booked the salon, but arrived late (like 45 minutes late!). I had managed to cut in line. The woman continued to complain in Kinyarwanda, but would use English for key words so that I was aware of the issue. Alex began to cut faster and faster. What kind of a haircut was I getting? This was turning into an adventure.
Finally, he finished.
“Sorry for the trouble.” I tipped him well.
He flashed a smile, “Oh, it’s not a problem” and turned to the waiting woman.
It’s not a haircut I’ve ever had before, but I like it – surprisingly enough.