Barbershop White Gurl

Tony getting a cut at the "Barbershop"

One of the best investments we made coming out here was a set of hair clippers. Since I’ve been in Guyana I’ve paid for only one hair cut and this was done only during training when the clippers almost caught fire. Since then, though, I’ve been going to “Barber Shop White Gurl” aka Chelsea.

During training

Every couple weeks or so I sit on our porch overlooking the front of our house, while Chelsea clips away my hair with a #4 (Don’t act like you don’t remember the numbers, guys!) Every so often people, primarily men, stop and stare from the shop across the way. They shout things like, “Hey barbershop white gurl, can you cut mine next?” or they grab their dreadlocks and say “When’s my turn, babes?” We ignore it for the most part and eventually they move on and she finishes the trim.

Sitting in the chair, I think about why it’s such a big deal to sit on my porch and get my hair cut. I mean, why don’t more people do it? It saves money, right? However, walking around town and thinking about my barbershop experience on the Essequibo Coast, I realize that it’s part of the culture. Men go to the shop to have a gaff or 4, thus it’s a social exercise and activity. They talk as men talk  (for it is well known that men, in general, gossip more than women) and get their hair cut. So, of course, we’re a spectacle; not only am I a blinding white slab of skin (for I don’t usually wear a shirt), but I’m also not doing justice to the man’s barbershop code.

Granted I could way off, but it’s fun to think about.

Much love,

T & C

Before the first Barbershop Experience. CRAZY HAIR!