A tale of two haircuts

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.