To the Salon

So last June, I decided to break down and get my hair permanently straightened as many of the Cambodian girls do. I remember noticing when I first arrived in country how many of the girls had such long, beautiful straight, straight black shiny hair. Well, it turns out they get it permanently straightened.

I asked around, and one of the teachers, whose hair I thought looked nice, recommended a place for me to go. It was the week of the semester exams, and the only time available she had was at 6:30am. (Some people know me to not be an early morning person), but knowing that she was busy and this was her time I had to take her up on it.

So she drove her moto really slowly, as I peddled a reasonable speed on my bike. We headed to a place behind the market on the north side. The salon she used was on the 1st floor of a flat that’s at the market. It was nothing fancy and there were much nicer places in town, and frankly I was a little surprised this was where she went. Nonetheless – the woman quoted me the going rate for a permanent straighten ($15) and I was fine with it and then sat down in the chair. My teacher friend had to get going to class, and she reminded me it would take four hours…and that she would see me again soon.

. . .

I don’t know how or if I can reiterate how dirty Cambodia is. It’s just dirty, it seems as though there’s a layer of grime on everything. Granted – It is very hard to keep things clean over there, I can vouch for that, but man, the average person from the states would be pretty grossed out by the average living conditions in Cambodia. I say this because, like I said there were nicer salons in town and well, this one wasn’t of the cleanest.

That aside, I sat down in the chair and the girl doing my hair started asking me questions in Khmer. I didn’t think I had ever met this person before, but I acted cordially and answered the best I could. I began to notice she kept calling me the Cambodian word for teacher, neak kru. I thought to myself, well – I must be doing something right in town if she knows I’m a teacher. My intentional relationship building is working after all. Ha. I’m well known in the community. Peace Corps would be proud. Then a little later on in our conversation, I asked her how old she was. She said, ‘18”. I think to myself, “WHAT?” Then she breaks out in English saying that she studies in grade 12 at the school, and she knows about the world map project I’m working on. Sigh. “I think to myself,.. okay, really,… I’m letting some 18 year old student, (not even a salon/beauty school student) – chemically straighten my fine, thin hair? Oh great. What if she fries it.”

Oh the everyday surprises that never really ceased during my time over there. Well, I was already in the chair and she was already putting the goop in my hair, so there was nothing I could do. At least, I thought that her hair looked nice, and I guess that’s always something you should look at when going to a new salon. So my hopes improved a notch.

Well, she got all of my hair finished. I had to sit with that smelly stuff in my hair for about 20 minutes. Then her older sister (who is the actual hair stylist) – came out to take me to do the first rinse. I spoke with her for a bit. She kind of had a disgruntled look on her face, a little tired and a little like she wasn’t so happy to be there. Me thinking to myself, “great. just what I need, an upset hair stylist working on my hair. My hair is very thin, she is probably going to unintentionally something bad to it. Okay. Intervene, try to get this woman to smile.” So… I see a few young children running around. I ask her if they’re hers. She says, no….they’re my older sister’s. Then I ask her how old she is, and she says 30. I told her I was 29. (Going with the whole we’ve got something in common thing…..) I then ask her if she’s married. She looked at me in the mirror and said, “no one will take me.” (record needle screeching to a stop, sound in my head, while thinking to myself, ooooooooops. Wrong question. HOW could I ask that question.) Well, it was a pretty typical question in a culture where people marry at the average age of 20. How is it, I stumble across the disgruntled hair stylist of age 30 – that just happens to not be married. Quickly thinking to myself how I can try and change the subject to something worth speaking about in Khmer……. she says, it’s time to wash your hair.

So I follow her back into the dark, part of the house. I sit down in this crooked, black, half broken, vinyl-torn-in-places salon chair that has two 5-gallon buckets full of water next to it. I lay my head back as she grabs the small container to fill it with water to begin rinsing my hair.

It was one of those moments that struck me. Here I am, laying back in a broken salon chair, staring at the dark corrugated rusty steel ceiling, with a few small holes in it, sunlight peering through like the rosy fingers of dawn, and smoke from the kitchen fire lingering high near the tall ceiling. And due to lack of running water, my stylist is rinsing permanent-hair-straightening-chemical out of my hair with a bucket of cold water. There are so many things that are the same in cultures (i.e. asking a 30yr old woman if she’s married yet, finding out she’s not and it’s a sore subject for her) – i.e. women going to a salon to get their hair done ………. and then so many things that are different, but similar: being at a salon, but it’s the back part of their house, it’s dark and dirty – and I can see their kitchen, this salon chair is adjacent the wall of their bathroom, the ceiling is rusty with a few holes in it and she’s dumping a bucket of cold water over my head, instead of using a hand-held sprayer that has hot water and nice pressure. Oh, and grandpa is over there in the corner lying on the hard-wooden bed taking a nap.

Nonetheless, I was thankful to get that smelly chemical hair-relaxer goop out of my hair. Then she grabbed for Sunsilk Brand (hair-fall defense brand) (I sigh again to myself, yea….. I do have thin hair, and it’s no secret to her) - and she starts lathering up. Well, at least that stuff smells good. Then she rinsed again, and then went for the conditioner.

After that we went back out front by the mirror. She dried it and then she and her younger sister got out the electric hair-straighteners and the two of them simultaneously straightened my hair. It didn’t take them long (because of my thin hair) – and after it was done… she said, $5. I said, really? I thought it was $15? She said, the average cost is $15, but your hair is really thin, usually it takes us hours to straighten it, but yours was fast. (sigh. I know. I have thin hair, thanks for reminding me). Okay- so that’s it? You’re done? She said yes, but come back in one week for a steam-deep conditioning treatment. (well, actually that’s what I found out it was after the fact, she said the term in Khmer, which I didn’t understand at all … then I wrote it down and asked other Khmer people – and they tried to explain it to me, which was kind of funny to witness too, but basically they kept saying it just makes your hair really pretty – and throughout the asking process, I learned the vocabulary word, “soft” – and it makes your hair really soft.) And then the week later, when I went back, I discovered that it’s basically a deep-conditioning treatment that they do under the steamer – WHICH truly was pretty amazing, and did make my hair feel really, really soft and look super glossy shiny. Best darn treatment I’ve probably ever done on my hair, and I was really sad I didn’t discover it til the last 2 months of my service; because it was so ridiculously cheap – think $2-3 – whereas I’m sure, in the states it be more like $30-50.

Anyway, that was my trip to the salon. I think it’s something that I won’t ever forget…Just the extreme similarities and the obvious differences. The result turned out pretty good, and I love the fact I don’t have to do anything to my hair, and it looks like I spent hours drying and straightening it. That will probably be my least expensive trip to the salon ever – and I can thank the 18 year old high-school student and her older, still available, sister.