The Barber's Demon Client

Ladies and gentleman, I am incensed.


Now, it is a truth universally acknowledged that there is common protocol in any hairdressing salon, irregardless of culture, country, or language. That is, despite all malevolent intentions of your tresses chopper, asking for "just a trim" and pointing out a reasonable inch of hair will get you with a workable haircut, plus or minus ineptitude.


Unfortunately, I am a very naive client. My haircut (150 rupees! 3 dollars!) was first handled by a gentleman who I now suspect is hired only to detain clients until the guy who actually knows how to cut hair comes back. He proceeded to amuse himself by ignoring my instructions, in hinglish no less, and chopping a gigantic chuck of my hair off.

He then confined himself to giving the wimpiest trim ever, and it was only until the real hairdresser came back that I got more than a quarter inch off my split ends. My bangs/fringe were/was cut crookedly, and so I yelled at the barbers and had my money waved off. A fellow client translated for me, saying "He says he's sorry."

So am I. So am I. 

On a higher note (PUNS) we have discovered giant marijuana plants growing wild in enormous quantities around the ashram we are staying in. Five foot tall, meh, more like seven foot tall... We picked a bit to investigate on the internet i.e. "is this cannabis ruralis or savalis?" Only field research, no lab work WE PROMISE. However transporting this legal-ish plant got us some funny looks from the ashram guards, who keep tabs on everything we get up to. I imagine we will receive a lecture tonight about this. Recent information however has led us to realize that our wayside botanical plant is a fairly useless specimen. Apparently the real stuff is guarded by a certain type of "sadhus," India's version of rastafarians.

I did my best to find a photo not showing genitalia, for the unmarried crowd who reads this blog. Photo credit: stolen from the internet.

Side note: We get chased by this crowd every Tuesday. Tuesdays are the day of the monkey god, which is good enough an excuse to run around giving everyone orange bindis and charging ten rupees for their blessing. It is bad luck to say no, which is probably why I am saddled with this haircut. *curses*

Now down to business. My mother requested that I be a little less "cutely amusing" and a little more informative on this blog. So I will tell you facts.

Fact 1: These are the only songs we hear on the radio. All day, all night. All day. All night. What the sadhu?

Fact 2: On the Indian version of "Biggest Loser," instead of doing fitness, the contestants do Bollywood choreography. BEST SHOW EVER (though I have yet to experience these particularly electromagnetic waves).

Fact 3: The mosquitos here, despite their malaria tendencies, are distant cousins from the bloodsucking beasts we are exsanguinated by in Minnesota. The rabid monkeys, cranky roadside cows, labrador eating leopards and stomping elephants are still pressing concerns.

These are all the facts I can think of at the moment. Until very soon!

Yours Truly,

Someone who used to have presentable hair.