Barbershop Tales

So I had my first Ghanian barbershop experience last week...and I must say it was quite entertaining! While waiting for my egg and bread breakfast to be made at a streetside stall I spied a barbers opening for business across the road and made an impulse decision to get my beard of two months shaved. I entered a brightly tiled room covered in mirrors and was welcomed by a young Ghanian man who had quite the surprised look on his face on seeing me. I'm pretty sure that by the look of relief on his face when I asked for a beard shave that he I thought I was going to ask for the dreads treatment! Most people in the north of Ghana are Muslim and many of the men have beards so I guess he was surprised that I would want to shave such a fine specimen:

Barber - "So why do you want to shave your great beard"

Sightly nervous mise -"Eh...well too many people are calling me Jesus when I walk down the street" (This is true...I get called Jesus pretty much every time I go to town, a typical Jesus conversation might go something like this..."Hey Jesus...how are you?" ... "Fine thanks, just going to the shops for some eggs..how are you too?)

Barber - "Ah!!! But it is a blessing that you are called Jesus...this is a very good thing!"

At this point in the proceedings he had shaved a good portion of one side of my face and given that he now seemed to dissaprove of my motivation for shaving I was worried he might refuse to continue.

Mise : "And its very hot at the moment for a salaminga with a big beard" I said hoping that this more logical reason would appease him. Luckily it did and he resumed the shave. As he continued to work I noticed that he was completely avoiding my mustache and that little bit of hair that grows in the dimple space above ones chin.

Mise (now looking very dodge with my skanger tash) - "Ehh you can shave my mustache aswell"

Barber - "Why would I do that...you don't like the way I made it?"

Mise - "Do you think I look good with this...I look like a salaminga Mexican!!" I said jokingly (apologies to any Mexicans reading this for using that stereotype).

This comment really got him and he stared roaring laughing all the while brandishing the razor in the vicinity of my upper lip.

Barber : "A Mexican ... yes...like in the movies!...ok ok ok I take the mustache off!"

This, however didn't include my chin dimple hair which he proceeded to shape into a nice neat little square. I decided that I'd pushed my luck enough for one shave and allowed him that little victory.

The final stage of a beard shave here in ghana is a liberal dousing with disinfectant (dettol in my case) followed by a few sprays of a cheap aftershave. As I left the barbers with dettol fumes stinging my nostrils I crossed the road to find that in my absence Shannen had been presented with a gift of 10 yams and a guinea fowl from some villagers whose kids we had helped to get to school. Shannen's scared of holding the bird so the newly shaven Jesus has to hop on the back of the bike, balance atop a pyramid of yams while clutching a struggling guinea fowl...not the smooth as my chin exit I had hoped for!