Shampoo

In one way, I didn’t need one, as I’d be in Mandalay in two days where there is the best ever shampoo and head massage. I didn’t need one in another way also: my lank locks looked thick, indeed bouffant, from the dust that covered everything. But I wanted one. I wandered around the main streets but couldn’t find a salon anywhere. Then I turned into a side lane and there a sign said ‘Shampoo’. I hazarded a guess it would not say that if it were a barber’s shop for men. ‘Tis true there were many men sitting around aimlessly chatting, but this is what men do.

I mimed washing not cutting and a most obliging man sped off to find the female hairdresser. I thought. But no, he returned with a black, rubber car-tyre bucket of cold water. Mmm I thought I’m glad the day is warm. Through much gesticulation from Ko Hair Wash and the hum of a stray man intoning Ozzy, Ozzy, Ozzy (as I’d been obliged to say where I was from and Ozzy means one is not mistaken for an Austrian) Ko Hair Wash guided me to a wooden chair beside a stained, stainless steel sink. As I bent my head I noticed the sink was filthy. So I closed my eyes. Ko HW pushed my head forward and tucked a dark green towel around my neck. Then came half the bucket of cold water tipped over my head and shoulders. But as the water poured into the sink, there was no plug or indeed no drainpipe so the water cooled my hands, knees and calves.

Next was normal hairdressing procedure: he lathered my head in soapy bubbles. Then along came the other half of the car-tyre bucket of water. Satisfied he’d removed all the soap (and hopefully the grime) he threw the dark green towel over my head and face. But he’d been using the towel to sop up some of the wayward water on the floor. So as the towel landed on my head, my face got a dousing too. I got up and walked haltingly as you do with a wet dark green towel over your head. I fumbled my way to a chair beside a mirror. And here was a complete surprise: a hairdryer. It was electric. And there was electricity. I snuggled down in the wooden chair shut my eyes and Ko HW combed gently as my hair dried to the continuous flow of words from the three men still clustered around. Ko HW finished combing. Cautiously I opened my eyes. In the mirror I hardly recognized myself. The wrinkles were still there as testament to my 71 years. But I had the neat parting and the smoothed down hair of a primary school boy. Not what I expected. But hey you need the unexpected to keep you on your toes and hilarious happenings don’t often happen.