The Hair Shop

We live in a nice, quiet community here. It's gated, with uniformed guards and all those within the walls either work for or are family members of employees of the corporation that funds our school. We have a modern apartment with many conveniences and the corporation has given great thought to bringing essential daily elements close to the apartments here.

For instance, just outside the gate, housed in the buildings of our complex are a small grocery store, two restaurants, soon to be a bakery/coffeehouse (much more exciting news on that development in a later post) and...as of this week...a Hair Shop.

The proprietor, a chatty, kindly gal with a severe hair cut accentuated with blocks of orange color...was delighted to see the local foreign family show up on this Sunday evening for some hair maintenance. Translation fell to the junior H family members who were an attraction for the two stylists (young men, obvious consumers of massive amounts of hair product.)

The proprietor lives on the third level on the shop and as we have noted in the past few weeks, she, in the local custom, hangs out her wash on the iron fence outside of her Hair Shop...even the unmentionables billowing in the breeze like silken sails.

She owns a dog. A VERY well groomed Pomeranian (likely the dog endures countless hours of primping by the aforementioned stylists as business is still a bit slow.) The dog, while glamorous in appearance has a unfortunate habit of displaying his overactive libido...on the patron's leg of his choice.

Once again, language fails me.

I want to scold the dog...he speaks no English.

I want to kick the dog across the room...not a very good first impression of the foreign teacher's family on our first visit to The Hair Shop.

Then the dog turns his intentions on some of the Junior H family members...who innocently believe the dog is playing with them.

The situation is too awkward to use my language skills to explain the situation accurately to the young involved.

As it was our first visit...and it took 2.5 hours to wash, head massage and cut the hair of only 4 H family members...I dispatched the remaining 3 home to prepare for the school week and to simultaneously spare them any more "play time" with the dog.

I bought the VIP card.

This is a common offer Here. You buy the card, you get a discount, they secure your future business. (The nearby pizza place is so enamored with our business that we've been upgraded from a VIP card to an "Imperial Level Card" that gives us a 20% discount on any meal we purchase there!)

I didn't ask, due to language, but I'm guessing the inappropriate behavior of the dog is offered at no extra charge.

I got a good haircut and a better head massage. The Bug got a trim, I think. Bub got a cut though they explained to me it would have been better if he had held still...at 3 years old...the one hour haircut may be a bit much for him. Dad got a cut that he says makes him look like a dead ringer for Caesar Augustus...

I walked home happily inside the gated street of our LQ (Living Quarters.) The night was balmy and I savored wearing my sandals again...and I felt it well up...so unexpectedly as it often is...random Joy.

Daily our experiences are almost too wild, too bizarre to write about...yet truly, we can "count it all joy."