I needed a haircut. Bulent suggested go with his mother to the hairdresser again. I decided against this because :
A) Last time he cut it too short and I did not know how to protest.
B) She doesn’t understand enough English to translate and vice versa I don’t have enough Turkish.
C) He was snooty and I didn’t like the style.
So Bulent and I went to the hairdressers a couple of days ago. He dutifully sat beside me and translated back and forth between me and the hairdresser. He did a great job, no comment was too small, and he was very patient. I came away with a lovely cut and a bored, but gratified man.
Today I realized that my eyebrows were starting to resemble caterpillars marching across my face. As great a job as Bulent did at the hairdressers, I did not want to repeat the translation job while getting my eyebrows waxed. My first mistake.
My second mistake…enthusiasm.
My eyebrows are much thinner now. Thinner than I would like. If someone else had done it, I would have wanted my money back. Also, they are uneven. It looks like a skinny momma caterpillar is marching across my face with a baby caterpillar in tow. I am not particularly thrilled with the situation, but have no one to blame but myself. I was stern when chastising myself for doing a bad job, and reminded myself that I would have to live with the consequences of my actions. I do not think I will do it again. Thankfully Bulent looks at my legs more than my eyebrows, so he will not really notice. But to will haunt me until my eyebrows grow back and that poor baby caterpillar marching across my face grows up.
OK. We want a photo update! ;-PIt happens to all of us. Usually without the excuse of not speaking the language. Finding a new hairdresser in a new town is misery. I have lived in my new city (Dallas, Texas) for almost 2 years now and have had no luck. My last haircut was a butcher job. I could have done as well with a weed whacker and it would have cost less! I just recently found your blog and have enjoyed your adventures. Love the food descriptions – yummy. I love the food of the Mediterranean. Fascinating to learn about the food culture there. I didn't realize that our "crap" prepackaged so called food was not available everywhere. Just never thought about it. Thank your lucky stars you are learning to cook real food. I bet your health will be better for it. Thanks again for sharing your story. Especially the ummmmm story. ha!
Oh geez… I forgot what I was going to comment. I was reading the previous comment (without seeing who wrote it) and was all excited it was someone else from Dallas. The previous commenter is my mom, I told her about your blog. Hopefully she isn't talking about my hair dresser because I love her! LOL… oh yeah, that was my comment, when I first moved to Dallas I used to drive back to Houston to get a hair cut. I was more willing to find a new doctor than a new hairstylist! Hopefully eyebrows grow back quickly.
Ha! No, Amanda, I didn't mean your hairdresser. She gave me old lady hair. I was scared to complain because I also didn't want the very stylish but too young (for me) chunky thing she does for you. Surely there's an in between! And Julebud, I still want a photo!
Terrific piece. It isn't much better for men and it seems like every expat in Turkey has a barber/hairdresser story. I nearly lost my bottom teeth when the poor old man washed my hair, face down in a sink with stains and cigarette ash. He wasn't paying much attention and my chin kept hitting the ceramic edge of the basin. The man obviously thought himself to be a multi-tasker who could cut hair, drink tea, talk about recent sporting matches and spoke a cheap cigarette at the same time. I suppose his attitude was: three of out four ain't so bad. Once you find a hairdresser, hold on to the then for dear life and never let go.