Instead of writing about how we are 2 months in, and everything is rolling, and stress is through the roof, and damn it's hot.....I figured I could write, in detail, about a unique experience here known has "The Haircut."
Let me begin by trying to explain how much I love getting my hair cut. Holy god do I love getting my hair cut. The love affair began with The Wooten Barber Shop in Austin, Texas shortly after I arrived at U.T. Now, I had gotten some good haircuts in San Antonio, but Super Clips, Master Cuts, Super Cuts, Pro-Super-Master Cuts should all be sued for false advertising, because relative to The Wooten, they aren't Masters, Pros, or Super in any way regarding the realm of mens hair and styling. The Wooten is a Man's barber shop (capitalized to express the relativity to men as a whole). There is always a bootleg DVD playing on a big screen TV, the same three guys are there to man their battle stations every single day, and the haircuts are always spot on. As a bonus, they take a straight blade old school razor to the back of your neck and clean up the ends very nicely. Lastly, they take what can only be described as a palm sander, and run that badboy all over your head and shoulders. Amazing. What's that? $15 bones for that kind of treatment, you got it Kimosabe.
Now allow me to juxtapose that experience with what you get here. (Yes, I know I am "deployed" and some guys are having to shave each other's heads with the deftly sharpened bones of the newly dead Taliban in Afghanistan while manning fighting positions and scared for their lives....but it makes for a good story)
First of all, the haircut is only $5.25 (American). That's good, because if I had to pay any more for these butchers to execute their craft, I might get upset. Now, perhaps it is my bad for wanting to maintain some semblance of "looking normal" while deployed, but I refuse to submit to the "dude...just shave it off...." club. Also, I refuse to adopt a "high and tight" because that makes me look like an Army Guy. If we venture into the city again in our khakis and polos, at least we can try and look like tourists instead of blatantly looking like US military. Shane Mercer, CPT, US Army said it best: "Look...throughout history the great generals of the world have managed to command armies of over 100,000 men in some of the harshest conditions imaginable....all while sporting long hair, side burns, and most notably, long glorious beards." For now I choose to meet the standard, while still trying to look like a normal human being. When I make the rank of Field Marshall, just for Shane, I'm bringing back sideburns.
The Barbers. Pardon my ignorance on the matter, but these dudes seem to be from Pakistan, with a couple from the Philippines. The country in which I currently reside thrives on labor from these countries, so why should the barber posse not be from those countries? Allow me to stereotype. These guys all sport bushy mustaches, longish hair, have pot bellies, and have the stumpiest little hands you will ever encounter on a man. For the most part they are friendly and listen to what you want. After being seated and proclaiming "Skin on the sides...medium fade....5 on top...please.." they will typically speak whatever it is they speak to their barber neighbor who will then retort with a smirk and a smile. As if to say "Stupid American....real men have longish hair and mustaches..." Newsflash Mustafa: Despite the obvious truth in that statement, I cannot rock either of these desired hair situations due to my job. Maybe one day....
In short order, they will execute, more or less, your desired specifications with the end result being acceptable in a job where you wear a hat most of the time. For me, I have to get in front of people, sometimes important ones, and speak decisively about my craft. To do that with some sense of credibility, I have to not look like a jackass. Thus, a few times I have had to politely ask these gents to "finish cutting my hair," or "maybe actually fade it on the sides."
The end is the best part. They must have googled "best haircut in the world" and gotten numerous hits on The Wooten and how they do business, because they employ a massage like tactic that is really why I wanted to write this blog. First they take their stumpy little hands and rub your shoulders. Normally, I am all about little dudes from Pakistan rubbing my shoulders, but there is something unnerving about their hands being so close to my neck. After they warm you up, depending on the barber, they may execute the "neck-pop almost break your neck move." You don't even really know what's about to happen until they do it, and they have yet to break my neck, but I know, and you know, that if they employ one more bit of strength to that ninja move, I'm a goner. One of the barbers has a signature move that also makes me nervous. He takes his stumpy hands, cups them over my eyes, and squeezes my eyebrows together with each of his hands. Imagine your loved one running up behind you and cupping your eyes just before they yell "surprise!" as you look at a brand new car, couch, pet, what-have-you. Now imagine that, instead of seeing anything at all, they just start mashing your eyebrows towards each other until the collective skin around your head begins to beg for mercy. It's kinda like that.
Their finishing move is worthy of it's own paragraph. They take their hands, bring them every so slightly together, and commence to karate chop your head. I am a big guy, and I am literally pushed out of my seat every time. The only element of this assault that gives it points in the humorous category is the sound it makes. The thud of them impacting your skull is immediately followed by a "quack." Yeah, as in, the noise a duck makes. So there I am, getting my head pounded in, while barber-man smiles a little bit on the inside as he makes duck noises on the head of the American to whom he has given an "0-k" haircut. It's like a double whammy for him. Barber-man 2, Derek 0.
Just another interesting aspect of life in "UNDLSWA." Pronounced "un-del-swa," it stands for Undisclosed Location in South West Asia because that is the term we have to use for our location. The troops, ever so vigilant with operational security, have begun using this as the title for their picture albums on facebook. It sounds funnier if you say it with a German accent.
As always, thanks for indulging me in my writing endeavors. Any and all commentary is encouraged and welcome. Good night.
-DW
