Of social networks and barber shops
On the day that I decided to deactivate my Facebook account, I also expended with my long worn afro. Before it became a fully grown afro, I had put-off cutting my hair as it was very cold in Seoul at the time. But as the weather became warm, my afro had not only grown but had managed to endear itself to me. It became an extension of my character and identity, albeit an increasingly inconvenient one. You only had to look at my face when I was combing it to realise I was under a lot of discomfiture. However after that, it would give me untold satisfaction to walk with that huge mound of hair perched on my head. Especially satisfying would be the look of admiration from some Korean older women who on more than one occassion asked me if they could touch my hair. I duly obliged.
However in all honesty, the afro had to go. It was unsustainable in the long run and a terrible drain on resources in the short run. So I stepped into the barber shop near Hoegi station, at first surprised that it was manned by two ladies. They say music is a universal language but may I add 'hair' to that least. The women barely speak any English but the moment I entered, they pointed me to a sit facing a huge mirror and a motley assortment of hair cutting tools. One of them did not waste time in pleasant niceties, simply asking me how many millimeters I wanted the length of my hair reduced to, and doing that by thrusting a catalogue of pictures with different hair lengths in my face. I pointed at the one I thought was shortest although to be honest since all pictures were of Korean men, I doubt the accuracy of my preferences. She then proceeded to pick a comb, make a few futile attempts at combing me hair (a combination of my squirming face and the actual kinkiness of the hair dissuading her) and plunged the machine into this black hirsute forest. Five minutes later, my head was feeling as light a s feather and she had finished her job.
English brush, brush brush or simply brush?
Now In Zambia getting a hair cut is a different experience and will probably cost much less. There are of course the usual pictures of celebrities (mostly black) with different hairdos, one or two placards invariably with a saucy message to people who like getting haircuts on credit or an appeal to God's benevolence regarding the business. Which is fine in my view. What I have difficulty standing though is the pedantry. Like the last barber shop I visited, I found two other guys waiting in the queue. I decided to wait for my turn and passed the time playing games on my phone. When my turn came, the barber man asked me what type of hair cut I wanted. I said 'brush', which is the name given to a haircut that leaves your hair so short that you can comb it with a shoe brush.
He turned to me and asked, "long brush or short brush or English brush", I politely asked for the "short brush" and readied myself for the machine. But 'no' my barber man was not ready to move.
"Short brush with cutting around the edges or no cutting?"
"You can cut" I responded with a slight edginess.
"Should I cut the back or the front?"
"You know what don't cut anything, just cut the brush and that is fine" I was getting exasperated.
"Sorry, did you say English brush, short brush or long brush?"
*************************************************************************
I have decided to deactivate my Facebook account, a decision that has been longtime coming, easy and surprising to some. It is amazing how Facebook has become part of our lives that in some quarters actions like mine are raising serious eyebrows. I have my reasons for deactivating my account and they are probably more than one.
If however someone put a gun to my head demanding why I did it, the single most important reason would be because I had stopped finding it exciting. It occurred to me several months ago that while I put a lot of my productive time into this voracious monster, I just keep going round in circles. To be fair, that is not bad for a social network, especially when those circles involve long lost and seen friends, witty quips on different walls, some amazing pictures and some truly inspiring stories and groups etc. But honestly it had started becoming insipid and sickeningly monotonous.
Ummmmhhh not exciting enough!
The Facebook team tried hard to impress upon me the sense of what I would be missing. A selection of friends' pictures was flashed on my screen just before I clicked the deactivate icon, with an entreaty that I could come back anytime I wanted. I really appreciate that and who knows what the future holds, coming back is definite option.
I guess deep inside me is still lodged a yearning for part of my life pre-2008. Back then when I would do so much more with my time on the net than endlessly see who had said what about what. A time when the social network was meeting people over drinks, exchanging numbers etc. That said, Facebook has given me a lot and I have equally given a lot in terms of time (yes the opportunity cost). Perhaps it is also a test I am giving myself, to see whether I can survive without something I had really taken for granted for so long. My creative energies already have a platform, i.e this blog and a little something called google+. So till some drastic change of mind or circumstances, it is bye to Facebook.
However in all honesty, the afro had to go. It was unsustainable in the long run and a terrible drain on resources in the short run. So I stepped into the barber shop near Hoegi station, at first surprised that it was manned by two ladies. They say music is a universal language but may I add 'hair' to that least. The women barely speak any English but the moment I entered, they pointed me to a sit facing a huge mirror and a motley assortment of hair cutting tools. One of them did not waste time in pleasant niceties, simply asking me how many millimeters I wanted the length of my hair reduced to, and doing that by thrusting a catalogue of pictures with different hair lengths in my face. I pointed at the one I thought was shortest although to be honest since all pictures were of Korean men, I doubt the accuracy of my preferences. She then proceeded to pick a comb, make a few futile attempts at combing me hair (a combination of my squirming face and the actual kinkiness of the hair dissuading her) and plunged the machine into this black hirsute forest. Five minutes later, my head was feeling as light a s feather and she had finished her job.
Now In Zambia getting a hair cut is a different experience and will probably cost much less. There are of course the usual pictures of celebrities (mostly black) with different hairdos, one or two placards invariably with a saucy message to people who like getting haircuts on credit or an appeal to God's benevolence regarding the business. Which is fine in my view. What I have difficulty standing though is the pedantry. Like the last barber shop I visited, I found two other guys waiting in the queue. I decided to wait for my turn and passed the time playing games on my phone. When my turn came, the barber man asked me what type of hair cut I wanted. I said 'brush', which is the name given to a haircut that leaves your hair so short that you can comb it with a shoe brush.
He turned to me and asked, "long brush or short brush or English brush", I politely asked for the "short brush" and readied myself for the machine. But 'no' my barber man was not ready to move.
"Short brush with cutting around the edges or no cutting?"
"You can cut" I responded with a slight edginess.
"Should I cut the back or the front?"
"You know what don't cut anything, just cut the brush and that is fine" I was getting exasperated.
"Sorry, did you say English brush, short brush or long brush?"
*************************************************************************
I have decided to deactivate my Facebook account, a decision that has been longtime coming, easy and surprising to some. It is amazing how Facebook has become part of our lives that in some quarters actions like mine are raising serious eyebrows. I have my reasons for deactivating my account and they are probably more than one.
If however someone put a gun to my head demanding why I did it, the single most important reason would be because I had stopped finding it exciting. It occurred to me several months ago that while I put a lot of my productive time into this voracious monster, I just keep going round in circles. To be fair, that is not bad for a social network, especially when those circles involve long lost and seen friends, witty quips on different walls, some amazing pictures and some truly inspiring stories and groups etc. But honestly it had started becoming insipid and sickeningly monotonous.
The Facebook team tried hard to impress upon me the sense of what I would be missing. A selection of friends' pictures was flashed on my screen just before I clicked the deactivate icon, with an entreaty that I could come back anytime I wanted. I really appreciate that and who knows what the future holds, coming back is definite option.
I guess deep inside me is still lodged a yearning for part of my life pre-2008. Back then when I would do so much more with my time on the net than endlessly see who had said what about what. A time when the social network was meeting people over drinks, exchanging numbers etc. That said, Facebook has given me a lot and I have equally given a lot in terms of time (yes the opportunity cost). Perhaps it is also a test I am giving myself, to see whether I can survive without something I had really taken for granted for so long. My creative energies already have a platform, i.e this blog and a little something called google+. So till some drastic change of mind or circumstances, it is bye to Facebook.
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