NOT TOO SHORT, PLEASE

Have you ever seen the 2002 film Barbershop? It shows a day in the life of a South Side Chicago barbershop, a loud but warm place where everybody knows everybody. It's full of spirited, likable characters and you can't resist the feeling that it is much more than just a hairdresser's, it's a lifestyle. Well, I watched this film seven years ago, when it was first released, liked it very much and forgot about it completely. Until yesterday.

It so happens that life in Libreville doesn't stop and we are struggling to keep up. We have established a more or less normal routine of work - cooking - gym - eating out - beach, with an occasional party or outing of a different type in the middle. But there are many other things to be taken care of. Thus we've been to the dentist's, we've visited a GP and we even started decorating our flat. Not long ago we were surprised to notice that it's been two months since we got back from our holidays and we were in serious need of a haircut. We thus set off in search of a hairdresser's whose price and quality of service would be somewhere between the very expensive European-style beauty salons ("American beauty products") and Chinese consulting-rooms, where you can get an amazing 3in1 deal (haircut + gynaecological revision + acupuncture) for no money.

In the end we opted for a central African-style beauty salon, frequented by African and Libanese ladies, where Jandro had already had his hair cut once before. And there we were, crammed with ten other people in a rather small room full of things and smells, looking out of place (as usual), me quite reluctant to throw my thin Polish hair on the mercy of a big Gabonese Mamma. This was the movie barbershop, where the music was loud and the hairdo was as important as the conversation. There were women sitting under big hairdryers chatting, women having their nails done and hair washed, while they spoke on the phone about successful sauce recipies... My hair stylist was awfully nice and proceeded with her task rather energetically, while still chatting to her colleague on the other side of the room, thus informing the whole party that she would become the Minister for Beauty in the new government. She was very into the coversation and I ended up with very very short hair (see picture).

All in all, the hair will grow back as it always does and I can add another African experience to my growing inventory. Of course, this was still not the kind of place where regular African women go. But I don't think I'm ready for the cabinet chinois just yet...