I’ve only been to one hair salon since arriving in Cambodia:
Mee In, around the corner from my house.
It’s run by a Korean woman whose little boy, Dong Min, attends Logos, so
Logos teachers get a nice discount. She
speaks a bit of English, like all the Khmer girls who work for her, and a bit
of Khmer. Dong Min, currently in Sarah’s
first grade class, is always in the salon running around or playing video games. He’s known as a handful at school, though he
behaves pretty well for Sarah.
Sarah went there a few weeks ago for the second time. The first time, two years ago, they’d given
her bangs against her will, and it took a while for the bangs to grow out and
for her to overcome her aversion to returning.
But return she finally did. She
walked in to find Dong Min, with his back to her, screaming at the top of his
lungs. Everyone in the salon – mom,
employees, customers – was trying to ignore him, except for one employee making
a faint attempt to cheer him up.
Sarah walked up and tapped him on the shoulder. “Whatcha doin’, Dong Min?” He whirled around sheepishly, eyes wide. Busted!
“I’m hungry.”
“Oh, really? Do you
think you’re going to eat soon?”
“Yeah, my dad ordered pizza, but it’s not here yet.”
Sarah encouraged him to find better ways to distract himself
than screaming, then took a seat for her haircut. Dong Min’s mom is the only one that cuts
hair, but several Khmer girls wash and blow it dry. They go all out blow-drying it, at no extra
charge: two girls work simultaneously for ten minutes so it looks amazing. As they were blow-drying Sarah’s hair, a
young Korean guy stood up from the chair where he’d been sitting the whole
time. “Let me do it,” he told the girls
in English.
“No, only two at a time.
That’s the rule.”
“No! Let me do it!” He pestered them until they let him
help. Was he a visiting nephew? A trainee?
A bored customer? Sarah voted for
“visiting nephew,” but had no way of knowing.
She went on to get an acceptable haircut: no bangs this time, thankfully.
Today was my turn for a haircut. Last June it ended up shorter than I wanted, but it's finally long enough for a bun or a braid. Today I was hoping for just a small trim, and
for them to redo the layers, which had grown out. The same guy was sitting there, but came and
stood behind me watching them blow-dry my hair before it was cut. Would he ask?
Nope. He just kind of slouched
around, observing everything with an emotionless expression.
As they finished, a crowd of girls gathered around me and brought
me a Korean book of hairstyles. “Which
one you want?” I flipped hesitantly to
the “long” section, aware that East Asian hairstyles favor extreme layering,
with hardly any hair left the longest length.
Usually, instead of a photo, I just show them the length I want and the
shortest the layers can be. Finally I pointed
to one, but stipulated, “Please don’t make the layers so short. Please have some hair this long...” (pointing
to my hair) “and some that long" (pointing again). They
showed the photo to the Korean guy, who was listening intently with a skeptical
look. Dong Min’s mom consulted briefly with the Korean guy. He laughed nervously and kept glancing at my
hair, then away. He seemed at the center of the
perhaps eight people surrounding me.
Wait! Was HE the one
cutting my hair today? Shouldn’t they ask me first? Will I get a discount for this? Will I need another haircut afterward? His body language clearly indicated that he
had no idea what he was doing. I tried
to maintain a neutral expression. Koreans are perfectionists, and she's got her business at stake: surely she wouldn’t let someone cut my hair
without thorough training.
Finally Dong Min’s mom picked up the scissors, and my whole
body relaxed. I wonder if that was the original plan... My relief lasted only a minute, though: after
cutting straight across the longest length I’d indicated, she began to cut the
top half of my hair the shortest length, also straight across. This wasn’t normal layering! This was 50/50 for each length, and it looked
horrible! I *am* going to need another haircut after all! How short will they have to make it? I spoke up anxiously: “Please also cut
some hair in between. Please do not only
cut it short or long.” This would never happen if we were fluent in
the same language...
“Layers?” “Yes,
layers, please.” She gave me a look that
said “Duh!” and told me, “You say straight!”
I don’t remember mentioning the word “straight,” but if I did, I
probably thought she meant “not curly like the model in the photo.” I guess that explains all the dirty looks from that guy.
She got right to work adding layers, and to
my great relief, my hair started to look normal again. No buns or braids for a while – it’s nearly as short as last time. But in spite of everything, I think I actually like this haircut.
