Ouch! I’ve just been for my first haircut in Africa. I went to the local barbers which turned out to be run by Jordanians. The haircut itself was fine and the hairdresser understood my English reasonably well, but, ouch!
The price of 140 Rand(£10) also included eyebrows, ears and nose. I’d never had these parts dealt with at a barber before, or anywhere else for that matter. But “what the heck”, I thought; I’m at the age where things start to go a bit crazy in those areas anyway.
After the haircut and some small talk about life in Jordan (note to readers: don’t ask Jordanians if they have a crazy night life and hot chicks in their country. They are Muslims and that question may not go down well. Oops!), my barber picked up some Q-tips, the type you clean your ears with. He soaked them in a nicely-scented, warm liquid and placed one in each of my ears. Then he did the same thing to my nostrils. It was unusual, but quite pleasant and I enjoyed the warmth and smell.
While the Q-tips were sticking out of me, the barber took something that looked like dental floss and started wrapping it around his fingers in a skilled and quick manner. Then he attacked me with the floss. He started with my cheeks; twisting and sliding and yanking. I could feel the fuzz and all the hairs too high for my morning shave being ripped out. Ouch, what a sting! He kept at it, all over my face: cheeks, forehead, above the eyebrows, between the eyebrows, and then, the most painful part: my ears. Ouch! Such sharp, stinging and continuous pain. Water was streaming from my eyes, but I was so worried that my barbers fast movements would ram one of the Q-tips into my already damaged brain, that I just sat as still as possible trying not to flinch or whimper.
I breathed a sigh of relief when the floss was put away, but the worst was yet to come. The Q-tips which were still sticking into my nose and ears of me had to come out. I thought they were just soaked in a solution that would soften things up. But actually they had been covered in HOT WAX! I had no idea or I would have definitely protested.
The first nostril Q-tip was unceremoniously and without warning yanked out. I shouted a surprised expletive and the barber apologised, but quickly proceeded to do the same thing again with the other nose hole. And then both ears. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch. And after each yank, he smilingly showed me the end of the Q-tip, smiling with pride at how much hair he had gotten out, or perhaps smiling at how much pain he had given this foolish white infidel.
Unfortunately inside my nose was extra hairy because the barber said “Sorry. More”, (though he didn’t look at all sorry) and put two fresh Q-tips up my nose. While the wax dried I regained my composure and searched the mirror for any blood on my face. I was fine, just a bit rosy and bleary-eyed. I debated with myself if I left right then, how long would it take for the Q-tips to fall out naturally. Five weeks? Six weeks? Would the humiliation of walking around like that be worth it for missing another couple of yanks? I decided not and took a deep breath.
When it was all over I asked my barber to show me how he did the dental floss thing. He explained it is an Indian technique and they just use normal sewing thread. He demonstrated on my arm by twisting a loop of thread, placing it across the arm, then pulling the loop closed so that it grabs the hair, then yanking. Ouch!
The nasal and ear waxing is an Italian technique, he informed me. God I hate the Italians. But I was glad of this new experience. I’m writing this almost an hour after and I still feel like I’ve been slapped by a granny for trying to steal a handbag. Ah well, at least my face is fuzz-free (for a few days anyway).
The image is a cool map I found on wikipedia when checking which countries make up the Arab World. These are the countries with their flags; basically north Africa and the Middle East. What a massive area!
The price of 140 Rand(£10) also included eyebrows, ears and nose. I’d never had these parts dealt with at a barber before, or anywhere else for that matter. But “what the heck”, I thought; I’m at the age where things start to go a bit crazy in those areas anyway.
After the haircut and some small talk about life in Jordan (note to readers: don’t ask Jordanians if they have a crazy night life and hot chicks in their country. They are Muslims and that question may not go down well. Oops!), my barber picked up some Q-tips, the type you clean your ears with. He soaked them in a nicely-scented, warm liquid and placed one in each of my ears. Then he did the same thing to my nostrils. It was unusual, but quite pleasant and I enjoyed the warmth and smell.
While the Q-tips were sticking out of me, the barber took something that looked like dental floss and started wrapping it around his fingers in a skilled and quick manner. Then he attacked me with the floss. He started with my cheeks; twisting and sliding and yanking. I could feel the fuzz and all the hairs too high for my morning shave being ripped out. Ouch, what a sting! He kept at it, all over my face: cheeks, forehead, above the eyebrows, between the eyebrows, and then, the most painful part: my ears. Ouch! Such sharp, stinging and continuous pain. Water was streaming from my eyes, but I was so worried that my barbers fast movements would ram one of the Q-tips into my already damaged brain, that I just sat as still as possible trying not to flinch or whimper.
I breathed a sigh of relief when the floss was put away, but the worst was yet to come. The Q-tips which were still sticking into my nose and ears of me had to come out. I thought they were just soaked in a solution that would soften things up. But actually they had been covered in HOT WAX! I had no idea or I would have definitely protested.
The first nostril Q-tip was unceremoniously and without warning yanked out. I shouted a surprised expletive and the barber apologised, but quickly proceeded to do the same thing again with the other nose hole. And then both ears. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch. And after each yank, he smilingly showed me the end of the Q-tip, smiling with pride at how much hair he had gotten out, or perhaps smiling at how much pain he had given this foolish white infidel.
Unfortunately inside my nose was extra hairy because the barber said “Sorry. More”, (though he didn’t look at all sorry) and put two fresh Q-tips up my nose. While the wax dried I regained my composure and searched the mirror for any blood on my face. I was fine, just a bit rosy and bleary-eyed. I debated with myself if I left right then, how long would it take for the Q-tips to fall out naturally. Five weeks? Six weeks? Would the humiliation of walking around like that be worth it for missing another couple of yanks? I decided not and took a deep breath.
When it was all over I asked my barber to show me how he did the dental floss thing. He explained it is an Indian technique and they just use normal sewing thread. He demonstrated on my arm by twisting a loop of thread, placing it across the arm, then pulling the loop closed so that it grabs the hair, then yanking. Ouch!
The nasal and ear waxing is an Italian technique, he informed me. God I hate the Italians. But I was glad of this new experience. I’m writing this almost an hour after and I still feel like I’ve been slapped by a granny for trying to steal a handbag. Ah well, at least my face is fuzz-free (for a few days anyway).
