Tuesday, January 29, 2013


Those you who know me probably know that I get my hair cut quite frequently - every two or three weeks.  So, just a few weeks after I first arrived I started looking for a place to get my hair cut.  One night my upstairs neighbor Yanko (who is kind of like the mayor of Asen Zlatarov Street) told me he would take me to a little salon just across the street.  He asked me as best he could how I wanted my hair cut, and then said a word or two to the woman standing over me.  The result was one of the best haircuts I've ever had.

Since then, I go back every two or three weeks.  All but one time, the same woman has cut my hair.  I walk in, we exchange a greeting in Bulgarian, maybe communicate via gestures while she's cutting, and I walk out with a great haircut.  This has happened four or five times now.

Today I went in for a haircut, and while I was sitting there it occurred to me that this would be my last haircut in Bulgaria.  And then it occurred to me that I couldn't even really communicate this to her beyond saying "goodbye" like I do every time.  I felt kind of sad about this.  The best I could do was to give her a pat on the shoulder as I said goodbye this time.  But I think that may have been enough for her to know.

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