The Barber of Santa Cruz

I went to get my monthly haircut today, at the same place, by the same person. The only difference was that there were two other guys in the salon and I'm usually the only one in there. As the barber began prepping his clippers, comb and razor blade (yes, they use a razor blade to trim the edges and it's awesome!), the two guys came over and just stared at my head. Before this would have just made me uncomfortable or angry but it's all part of the package deal here. Anyway, as the barber started clipping my hair, the two guys just stood in amazement, slack-jawed, staring at my falling hair. I can't even begin to guess at what was going through their heads, if anything at all, but there they were. The barber, totally unfazed by my being there because I'm a regular, told them to have a seat. They backed away slowly, mesmerized by the back of my head. As the barber finished up, the one sitting nearest to me started pointing out spots the barber had missed and the barber graciously went back over those spots. I then paid my 50 pesos (about $1) and left.

I learned today that a haircut can be a communal effort and that I have grown more at ease living the absurdity that is "the fish bowl." In a bizarre way, I think I may miss all the attention when I get back home and become just another white dude.