It’s always interesting to go to a hairdresser in a different country, or even to go to a hairdresser from a different country in your own country.
I clearly remember the first time I went to a Turkish hairdresser in The Netherlands. As a student, I didn’t have a lot of money to spend on haircuts, so I went to a Turkish one, since they’re a lot cheaper. After he was done cutting my hair, he pulled out a metal stick with some cotton on it. He dipped it in some liquid and I assumed it was to clean the equipment. He then lit the cotton on fire! Now I was very surprised and quite anxious about what he would do next. He then stepped back behind me in that typical hairdresser manner of manoeuvring and started making quick strokes along my face with the burning end of the stick, quickly followed by what can be best described as soft slaps (either because he could get away with it, or to prevent my face from catching fire). I hardly ever find the opportunity to use the word flabbergasted, but that time I was completely flabbergasted by the hairdresser’s shenanigans with his grooming paraphernalia.
Over time I got used to it and quite appreciated it. A warning when he did it the first time would have been nice, but I might have politely declined and missed out on all the adventure. 😉
Another ‘odd’ experience I had with hairdressers was this summer in Strumica, Macedonia. I entered the smallest hairdressing shop I’ve ever been to and it was almost like the scene of a movie like Hostel. Very Eastern European. Very cool. You can read about it here: Strumica: Last Days (incl. pictures!).
So today I got my hair cut here in Istanbul… and it was about time. I decided to go with a simple shave. First I haggled a bit about the price… “Hayır. Benim arkadaş… beş lira!” (“No. My friend… five lira.”) We agreed upon a more reasonable price and he did his job. At the end there was no burning stick, but he did something I haven’t encountered before. He got some cotton out, which immediately made me think he would do the burning stick thing, but then he put the cotton on a comb and held it under the tap for a second… He then combed through my hair a bit. I suppose it was to get all the little hairs out.
So what about your foreign hairdresser experiences? How about in your country? Anything that foreigners would consider ‘unusual’?
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Comments
10 responses to “Foreign Hairdressers”
Hilarious! I was thinking of taking the opportunity to get my hair done by a fellow classmate who is Turkish after they recently offered to me again. Now I am sure I will! I’ll update on it 😉
wow, I can’t imagine the fier thingy 🙂
anyway, thought I’d delurk to tell you that coincidentally I am halfway through watching “You Don’t mess With The Zohan” (had to stop halfway because it was so painful to watch,,, but I’m going to suck it up and finish watching it, just to get it ove with…) with adam Sandler as an Israeli ex-Mossad who just. wants. to. cut. hair.
Your story reminded me of a visit to a barber back in 2005 in Thailand. It was my first time to get a haircut here. Like a lot of the male barbers in country the guy turned out to be a lady boy! Everything went fine until he ushered me to the back of the shop and indicated for me to lay down on a couch. No way-I paid my Baht and fled much to the amusement of my friend who explained between fits of laughter that the guy simply wanted to wash my hair.
Well, when it comes to haircuts, I’ve never experienced anything unusual but I enjoyed reading your post.
Wow! I’ve never had an experience like that before. Did you ever figure out what the flaming cotton ball on a stick was all about? The wet cotton on the comb does sound like a good idea to pick up the stray little hairs. Thanks for the good laugh.
Thanks for the comments everyone. That’s hilarious, Mike!
@willow: I actually quite liked that film for some strange reason. Maybe cuz I watched it with my girlfriend and we were living 3000 kilometres away from each other at that time.
@Lucero: yep. He was doing it to burn away small hairs on my cheeks. Some special grooming thing I suppose.
Nothing weird ever happened to me Bas even though I’ve gone to hairdressers in pretty outlandish places. The one time I did regret it sorely was when I got a three dollar hair tint in Baku, Azerbaijan. Cheap right? So was the tinting. I ended up boot black and it took about 2 years to rectify the color damage. Your story was a good read. I liked it.
Here, some hairdressers would not ask what you want but style your hair the way they know best, while others would not touch your hair unless you tell them first what you want done.
But they are a jovial group often entertaining you with their stories…
Cheers.
When I was a kid I was in the Philippines and wanted to get my bangs cut. When the lady cut them, they weren’t cut short enough for my mother’s satisfaction, so my mom asked her to cut them shorter. She cut them so they were only about an inch in length. It was quite drastic.
I don’t think this is common filipino-hair-cutting practice, but it did effect me enough to be cautious about getting my haircut in other countries.
I lived for over 2 years in Istanbul some 15 years ago.. loved every minute of it.. and one of my fave things was visiting the hairdresser in Besiktas. A hole in the wall – but for $10 I could have a shampoo, cut, blowdry, neck & shoulder massage, tea, more tea, coffee, more coffee, fresh cooked burek… it was a beautiful relationship until he gave me a ‘prince valiant’ haircut.. let’s say there are no photos – I destroyed them all. Enjoying your blog. Cheers!