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Friday, 11 October 2013

The Hairdresser

There is nothing more fraught with nerves and danger than trying out a new hairdresser - especially when you don't speak the lingo. Having short hair most of my life, a visit to the hairdresser has not usually phased me - taking off a ski helmet is another story as you might recall. As if anything really goes wrong I have consoled myself that it will grow back or out or something.

I do recall an incident when I was 4-5 years old and decided that I did not want a fringe, so I just cut it off. My mother did not see it so black and white. It might be where my hair mantra will grow back or out or something.

Today I went to a new hairdresser in Frankfurt. I had been tempted to test the place 200m from our front door step - what a convienience. But Ron had been there for a hairuct and the free added spiritual awakening (in which he did not awake). I was not sure that I would not have laughed out loud when following the haircut she danced some voodoo stuff and waved essential oils around my head. Needless to say Ron is giving the voodoo hairdresser a pass. Although no spiritual awakeneing - he nows believes he can sing demonstated outside the Alte Oper, Frankfurt.


In the last 10 years or so the hairdresser has meant communicating in a foreign lanaguge: French, "Austrian", Hungarian and now German. My french usually meant that I ended up with hair much shorter than I had wanted. In Austria I sometimes took Ron to translate but that also did not work. Hungarian was another story and you always ended up with red hues reagrdless of what colour you requested. I had a friend who never did her colour and a haircut at the same time in Hungary. She exclained that she could not cope if both the cut and the colour were wrong! In Hamburg I just went to the most expensive hairdresser and crossed my fingers and smiled. The results were variable but I finally got the colour right!

My Frankfurt hairdresser research involved asking a lady (that we know) with what I consider to be fine, straight hair. Just like me! Luckily she was not the least worried by my request and gave me the number of the "Hair Palace". She told me that its run by a Chinese guy and she figured he must be good with straight hair, given most Chinese have straight hair!

So I went to make an appointment - by ringing the Wong number. I spoke with his wife and asked only for an appointment in the morning - "Morgen". She thought I meant morgen as in was a public holiday, so they were closed. After a bit of back and forth we finally got to an understanding that my Morgen was mornings, not tomorrow (small "m" morgen). I don't know how you can say that in German. Finally appointment made.

I decided to drive downtown. Parking in the middle of town is dead cheap - its amazing. We don't know another major city that has such inexpensive parking. For 2.5hrs I paid 5 Euro. And it would have cost me 2 Euro each way on the tram plus 15min walk. So since it was a "ME" morning I forked out the extra Euro for the convienince of central city parking and not damaging my new hair cut on public transport.

Result you ask? Well he said he would just trim the ends. But I said I wanted a tad more. So it is a bit shorter than I had imagined. The problem when both are not speaking thier mother tongues. But I am happy and I will stick with this salon and hairdresser during out time in Frankfurt - chop chop.

He is a bad attempt at the post hairdesser selfie.

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