My First Haircut

In the past eight years, as far as I can remember, just one person has cut my hair. I always joke about it, because this person started out at the person who cut my mom’s hair, and what self-respecting young male goes to a woman’s beauty salon? My father would suggest every time I would go that I should just go to his walk-in barber shop and get a buzz cut like I used to and like he does. But dammit, I like the hair wash before hand and the hair cut, the conversation, the whole experience. For eight years, I’ve been going to Hot Locks, getting basically the same haircut every time (though for awhile in high school I was still getting it cut shorter). Until now.

I got my hair cut just before I flew out of New York, and I’ve now been in Azerbaijan for just over four months, my hair growing longer and longer. I was dreading this moment, getting a haircut. I worried about the language barrier, first and foremost. Second, it didn’t take long to guess that there’s not much in the way of education for barbers and hair stylists here. Men’s’ and women’s’ barbers are all over the place,, practically on the side of the street. In India I’d seen barber’s chairs literally on the street, and I feared it would be a similar situation here.

I realized though, that I had an ace in the hole here, or so I hoped, a host brother who speaks fluent English. If he came with me, there was no way I’d get a bad haircut. And so I recruited him to take me last week. Following my afternoon English conversation club, Seymur took me to a nearby barbershop. Just one chair and mirror, a simple set of scissors and brushes and a shaver, a water spritzer. The barber was sitting alone in the chair when we walked in, listening to radio. He stood quickly, and ushered me into the seat. Seymur explained my request, and off we went. With the comb he held up hair, and sheared away. Then he spritzed me down, and started more precise cutting. Seymur stood nearby observing and translating, including the fact that I wanted my “ears opened up.”

All together it took about 10-15 minutes. And now I’m shorn. It’s maybe a little shorter than I wanted, but I’d chalk most of that up to the fact that my hair was so long beforehand. It’ll take some getting used to, that’s for sure, and I may finally take the advice of one of the other teachers, and start wearing a hat. It’s soyuq outside in the morning.

Before:

After: