¿Cortaste tu pelo?

Sooo it was time for a haircut. Every shower I battled with my curls to get out all the knots and was consequently going through about a pound of conditioner a week. As I was explaining to my host mother, everything activity is an adventure for me here. Showering, buying food, getting around, making friends, and every other activity necesary for daily life. It always involves more maneuvering than I originally expect, and of course a whole lot of translation. Well my haircut was no different. On a rather bland tuesday, I decided I was up for the adventure.

I started my investigation at lunch. I inquired how much I should pay for a haircut. They told me about 5 or 6 lucas (1 luca = 1,000 chilean pesos, 6 lucas = about ten dollars). This seemed expensive for Chile. Well, we only pay like $1500 pesos, explained my host mom. I was getting a little worn out of stuff like this. I had been explaining the price differences from Chile to the US, and my family had started to get the picture. I could buy whatever I wanted. Well, I have never been one to pay top price for a haircut, in whatever currency. I informed my family I was not interested in a fancy haircut, I just wanted it a little shorter. 1500 pesos would do me just fine. Perhaps, this was my first mistake.

After work I walked towards Calle Patricia Lynch, where I was informed there are a variety of peluquerias. The first one looked just as good as any other. It looked pretty sketchy (or in spanish, flighter) but that somehow didn´t deter me. I was assigned a cross-dressing hairdresser and I was so excited about it. I told him to just cut it a little so it was less messy, and to put in layers. Exactly the instructions I always give when I got to Choices. Dominic and I get along great. When I was modest about my spanish skills, he assured me that at least he could understand me. Thanks, buddy. We chatted about how ugly Osorno is, how homosexuality doesn't bother either of us, and how he really prefers straight hair to curly hair. Fifteen minutes later, I realized that my hair had gone through a drastic change. Its pretty much just curls all around my head, none of which fall more than an inch away from my scalp. Im pretty much always in a delicate emotional state here, and the whole affair threw me for a bit of a loop. It was quite a dramatic change, that I was not anticipating. In my state of panic, I bought a variety of hair supplies on my way home.

Now all I wanted, was for someone to tell me that I looked great. Unfortunately, my host family usually takes the making fun of my route, so I was no hopeful. Just as I expected, they thought the whole situation was hysterical. They now refer to me as a little boy and keep asking me jokingly if I cut my hair. The people in the office also found the whole thing funny, and reprimanded me for chosing such a sketchy location. But in general, they were more encouraging. Three days later, its growing on me. Danielle helped me realize some of the benefits of short hair (less shampoo and generally less maintenance, feeling really badass, attracting lots of bisexuals, etc) and of course it will grow back soon anyway. I´m still in the process of purchasing lots of new acessories that I never before found useful, since a ponytail is out of the question. Im still generally pretty surprised everytime I look in the mirror. I just hope my mother doesn´t kill me when she arrives on Tuesday. Im sure that Moriah will hate it, but then again they are both very critical of every one of my fashion decisions (not that this was a concious decision...), so it shouldn´t get to me too much. Pictures to follow...