me going to get me hair cut

So I'm not sure if it was apparent from the pictures on flickr, but my hair was gettin long. I'm talking Garfunkel long, so really maybe more tall and rebellious than long per se.

So I started asking around with different folks on the program to see if anyone had cut a guy's hair before and I had a few possibilities lined up. But while I was waiting for the logistical bits to fall into place - time, place, whether or not to layer - I met a delightful young lady on the street corner where we hang out for tea from time to time.

It just so happens that she's a coiffeuse, or hair stylist, and she's trying to learn english. Hmm, we thought, we both have something the other is looking for. This sounds like a fair trade, my skills for yours. We decided an english lesson was roughly equivalent to one hair cut. Maybe a little too roughly.

So we met up yesterday, Ewan, hair-cut lady, and I - all on the street corner. We exchanged pleasantries and made our way to Ewan's place. We talked a bit more and then she got right to it. Asked how I wanted it done. This is, of course, after Ewan double checked that she knew how to cut white folks' hair and that she had scissors with her.

"Oh, just a little off the top," with the enthusiasm one employs to move along a routine task like brushing teeth. "And shaved in the back and around the sides," she asked sweetly? "Yeah, that sounds perfect." What was that line about talking without listening? I should probably also say that this was in french. We weren't really aiming to gamble my new hair doo against the results of our English class.

Buzzz.... man, this feels great. I can feel my head tingling with freedom and the taste of fresh air. Buzzz... free at last, free at last, thank god almighty, enfin les cheveux sont libre! Buzz... hey, isn't that razor gettin a little high? Buzz... ummm... say, delphine, you do have scissors with you yeah? Buzzz... where are those scissors by the way? Buzzz... oh. you don't have scissors, just a whole new look for mikey holmes.

Yep, buzz is the word. All that's left on my head is the length of hair that a number three guard protects from the buzzing blades of a philips razor. It is awfully refreshing though. And it does go rather nicely with my new prayer beads from our trip to touba, the holy city of the mouride brotherhood.

My family loves it, they were overjoyed to see my new Senegalese look.