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.
No comments:
Post a Comment