Blindfolded. And a rag for my mouth.

Translated from Dutch. View the original post here

My facial hair is running out of the spuiholes. That is, after three weeks of Mexico, some pubic hair is visible on the upper lip and chin. With me there will never be an adult male beard and so something needs to be done about this. , “Tomorrow we go to my grandfather, who must have a shaver”, Tania offers me a bald chin. Hmm. I think that's a rather boring solution. I prefer a corridor to the barber. On my own. That seems a lot more adventurous.

With an upper lip and chin, not much can go wrong seems to me. However, the hairdresser does not understand me, it seems. At the same time, I think: what else can I ask? That I want to color that pubic hair blue? However, the hairdresser really does his best and asks the question through Google Translate. It shows that we understand each other anyway.

One thing: in these countries, you make a price agreement in advance. I know that. I always do. This time I didn't think about it until the shave.

Why am I telling you this? I suddenly get two warm tea bags put on my eyes. Part of the service, the hairdresser reassures me, as long as I ask. Or well, rest assured: I already know that I have to pay extra for it, but I do see the humour of this. Then I get some ointment on my nose and my cheekbones are massaged. Well, yes.

Then I get shaving cream on my jaws, my chin and over my lips and then a hot cloth is put over my mouth. Can you see it? I sit there, in a slum of Mexico City, blindfolded and with a cloth in front of my mouth, which is also kept very tight by the hairdresser. I'm starting to get a little nervous, though my hands are still free. This isn't a kidnap, I'm telling myself. Because, yes, that thought comes to mind. Yet my full mind gives the hairdresser the benefit of the doubt. Okay, this is “part of the service, “but I can't get really relaxed.

Finally, he starts shaving. Patient, neat, although I still encounter a few hairs afterwards. After 25 minutes, he'll be ready and I'll have to pay for it. Where I went to the hairdresser with Tania earlier and paid a hundred pesos for a haircut - that's about four euros - I now pay 240 pesos. Right, a tenner. For the basics actually three minutes of work.

Yet I return home happily and tell Tania the story. Who then laughs at me and once again insists that you have to make price agreements here. Well, I didn't pay the grand prize right now, and the experience itself was more than worth it. And a lot more fun than Grandpa's shaver.