#018 Thailand Update: Hey Man, All I Want is a Haircut… And Some Food

After all the writing of #017, I find myself sitting in front of my computer… thinking. What happened between last night and this morning? For me, not much. I went home, ate a nice Tandoori chicken dinner that Livonia prepared (she’s getting quite good at making new and exotic meals), typed a few emails for work, briefly chatted with Esaiah’s Uncle Sonny on Yahoo! Messenger, and then drifted off to sleep. Of course, I can’t summarize an entire update with that, right?

Esaiah is Loving Life
When I got home last night, everyone was downstairs doing something. Not sure what, but they were doing something. I was too tired to go down and check on them, so I fixed me a plate, ate dinner, and then sat down on the couch. After about a half hour, Livonia comes up and tells about her day and the how the kids are doing.

It seems Esaiah has really taken to Thailand. I don’t think he’s going to be too happy returning the States in December. He really likes his school, he loves his friends, and he enjoys his life here. This is something I never planned for. I was fully expecting Esaiah to be the hardest one in the family to leave the US; I never expected him to be the hardest person to leave Thailand. In the back of my mind, I was thinking “My family is doing this to support me, and because they love me.” I didn’t anticipate any of them would so grow attached to this place. We’ll have to see how that evolves over time.

Share and Share Alike
Esaiah and Christian still fight over the small things. It’s good in a way, because it reminds me that they are adjusting just fine. The recent argument involved Gameboys. We have a total of four Gameboys for three children. You would think there wouldn’t be any arguing over that, right? Apparently, this is not the case. At one point, all the Gameboys belonged to Esaiah. As he received an updated version, he passed the previous versions to his siblings. This activity worked for his first two Gameboys. He kept the third one for himself. When I took a trip to the Philippines, I was bored in my hotel and bought a Gameboy to keep me occupied. When I returned home, this suddenly became Esaiah’s NEW Gameboy. I didn’t mind because it had already served its purpose. Now, in the normal scheme of things, Esaiah’s old Gameboy would be given to Christian, Christian would give his old one to Nathan, and the one Nathan had would be “backup.” However, Esaiah decided to keep both of the nicer Gameboys for himself, and only allow Christian to “borrow” his older one from time to time. This was relatively unknown to me, because had I known I would have solved the problem by giving Christian the new Gameboy. I have a really hard time when my kids show any indication of becoming selfish.

After we returned from our Hua Hin trip, all but one of the Gameboys made it out of the van. Nathan’s Gameboy was still inside. Therein lies the problem, as you will see. Yesterday morning, Esaiah got onto his Gameboy while he waiting to walk to school. Nathan grabbed the backup Gameboy, since his was in the van. That left Christian looking for a Gameboy. He asked Esaiah if he could play the other Gameboy (apparently Esaiah kept both in his room). Esaiah told him “no.” Christian walked up the stairs with tears in his eyes and into the arms of his Mom.

Uh Oh, Esaiah.

Livonia had a nice talk with Esaiah about the importance of sharing. She also asked Esaiah why he had to have two Gameboys. She reminded him of how he got the new Gameboy. I told her I would have just given the new one to Christian, and she quickly stopped me and told me that she had already handled it. Esaiah is very lucky to have her. Later that morning, Esaiah finally decided to let Christian have his old Gameboy and to only use the new one.

Hmm… I’m curious about something. The power cord that charges the batteries in Esaiah’s new Gameboy uses 110v on 60Hz. Our apartment is wired for 220v at 50hz. I wonder how he’s keeping it powered up? I don’t recall setting him up with a power convertor. I think his power cord may have already experienced the same demise as my printer. I’ll have to look into that tonight.

Hey Man, All I Want is a Haircut… and Some Food
I learned something about posting. If you don’t post it, people can’t read it. I forgot to post yesterday’s message, so rather than post two back to back, I’ll just continue writing.

Livonia calls me at work to tell me that she’s going to help out with the “Alpha course” at church. This is a course the church uses to introduce people who do not understand or believe in Christ to Christianity. She said she would be home late, so I took this as opportunity to get a haircut. I tell me driver to drop me off at Fashion Island, which is a very large mall just outside of Bangkok.

I get to Fashion island and realize very quickly that I am the only Farang in the whole place. What does that mean? It means finding someone who speaks Angrit (English) will be somewhat difficult. I wander the entire distance of the first level of the mall and do not find a single shop for cutting hair. How unusual is that? I continue down the other side and finally find one, but everything is in Thai. I also don’t see anyone inside. I stand outside the shop for a few minutes, contemplating whether or not I want to venture inside, and then finally decide to look elsewhere. I get to the end of this side of the mall and encounter another shop. The title is in English. This is a good start. The services offered are also in English. Woo Hoo! I meander over to the shop. I am greeted by about 9 shop personnel, all smiling and saying many things in Thai. I say “Nid Noy Thai. Angrit Mai kaap?” which I believe means I don’t speak a lot of Thai. Anyone know English? The Thai language changes to “haircut?” and I confirm.

I look on the display, and I don’t see anything that says “haircut.” I see prices for many items, but none of them say haircut. I point at the cheaper one for 200 Baht. Hairicut? They all smile and nod their heads in affirmation. Having played this game before, I test the waters. I point to the one for 1000 Baht that says “permanent” and say “haircut?” They all smile and nod their heads in affirmation.

I can see this will take a little bit more work.

I orient my fingers into the universal sign for scissors and motion to my head. “haircut?” is there response. I agree. They all look happy. I think we may be getting somewhere. Then, they start talking to me in Thai again. I’m assuming all the options that come with the haircut are being offered, but I really have no idea. Now it is my turn to smile and nod my head, only I don’t like playing this game, so I say “Mai Khoa Jai,” or “I don’t understand.” They frown (uh oh), and then proceed to say the same things in Thai a second time. I’m assuming they repeated themselves because they are assuming that I will pick up the language on the second time. I repeat my previous statement, so they call over another person into the mix. They say a bunch of stuff to him, he takes it all in, and then turns to me.

“Haircut?”

Hmm… I thought we had already established that, but okay. Let’s play. I haven’t had to play the confused American since Lumyai’s wedding. “Chai Kaap,” is my response. This is otherwise known as “yes.” He then proceeds to repeat what the others have already said to me. I’m thinking that the logic here is that I didn’t understand them because they had a different tone than this guy. Perhaps hearing him talk will change my understanding. It didn’t, and I continued with my “I don’t know” response. Finally, a second English word comes out.

“Shampoo?”

Ah yes. I see now. I tell them “yes” a shampoo would be quite nice to have, thank you for asking. Of course, it didn’t come out that way. My response was a ratting of my head for confirmation. Then, I hear another word come out of his mouth.

“Treatment?”

Hmm… what does that word mean? Maybe it means a head massage? That would be pretty cool. I inquire as to what that means. Between bits of English and a lot of Thai, I conclude a treatment is a conditioner. Sure. Why not? We’ve gone this far now. I would hate to have lost all that time in translation for nothing. So, it sounds like I’m signed up for a haircut, and a shampoo/condition.

The first lady takes me back to get a shampoo. She puts the shampoo in and then proceeds to massage my scalp. Ah yes, I can like this. She massages my scalp and the back of my neck, and I’m feeling pretty relaxed. She does this for about five minutes, and then rinses off the shampoo. She adds more shampoo. Huh? Oh yeah, Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Just like the bottle says, right? Another five minutes of washing and more scalp massage can’t hurt right? Actually, five minutes of my head at this particular angle is fine, but after 10 minutes my neck is starting to cramp up. I have now realized that too much of a good thing can be bad. She rinses out my hair (finally), and then proceeds to add a third washing to the mix. Now, I’m almost positive that no bottle of shampoo tells you to wash your hair three times, but I don’t say anything. The next five minutes were a little uncomfortable. My neck had now officially cramped, so I no longer cared about the scalp massage. All I wanted was for the washing to cease and desist. Finally, after about twenty minutes, it did. She dries my hair off and takes to the haircut station. At the haircut station is a bowl with a plastic palette knife in it. The bowl is filled with a creamy off-white substance. She takes the spackling blade and proceeds to paint my hair with it. Initially, I was fearing my hair was getting colored, but then I realized it was the conditioner.

When she finished with conditioner, she put this oversized bandana across my forehead and ears, leaving the top of my head still exposed. Now this bandana was probably about 4-6 inches wide, light blue, and made of a terry cloth. As I felt my manhood being stripped from me, I quickly glanced around to see if anyone could see me, but then realized where I was. Even if someone could see me, who cares? No one knows who you are anyway? And besides, you’re gonna write about it anyway. I turn back around, still disgusting at how I look now.

It gets worse.

She now wheels over this machine that has a big round dome on top. She put this dome over my head and turns on the power. A lot of heat starts emanating from this thing. I’m assuming it’s some form of dryer. I don’t know. What I do know is that the only time I ever seen this device in use was when a woman was underneath it. The lady now walks off and leaves me underneath this “thing.” I look around the shop, wondering how I manage to put myself into situations like this, and now fully regretting my acceptance of “the treatment.” I sit under this thing for what seems like an enternity. I get bored. I look around. The only thing available to occupy my time are woman’s magazine’s. Nope. I will not resort to that level.

I continue to sit there. The magazines continue to stare back at me.

Hmm… this one appears to have a couple articles on movie stars. I wouldn’t be looking at a woman’s magazine per say; I would be reading an article on an actor. That’s not AS bad, right? I agree with you. I leave the magazine where it sits.

I continue to sit there.

I cannot stand to sit and do nothing. That’s one of the reasons you all receive an update from me. I can’t sit in a car for 1.5-2.5 hours and do nothing. I have to keep busy. Sitting under that “thing” made it impossible for me to do anything. I finally cave in and pick up a magazine. As I’m thumbing through it, I realize that all the words are in Thai. Great. Now all I can do is look at the pictures. This made getting through the magazine a rather speedy process. I put it down and pick up another. As I’m flipping through this magazine, a second customer is brought past me to the hairwashing station.

A man.

I take a moment to fully picture what he just saw. He just saw a man under a drying “thing” with a light blue bandana on his head, reading a ladies magazine.

I put the magazine back down. I can stand to be a little bored.

Finally, after an eon on waiting, a “ding” goes off on the “thing.” The lady who got me into this contraption returns. She removes it and finally takes off the silly bandana, and we return to the hair washing station for another go.

Lovely.

My hair is rinsed and my scalp is massaged for a fourth time. By this time, a good hour has passed, and I still have not had a single hair shortened on my head. We finish with the rinse, and I go to a new station. Could this possibly be the haircut station? It is!

Another lady appears. This must be the lady who will be cutting my hair. They present me with two books filled with haircutting styles for men and ask me to pick on. I try to explain that I like the one I have, but they keep pointing to the book. I point to a picture of Keanu Reeves from when he had long hair. They smile. Oh good, they understand humor. I keep flipping through the book until I find a hair style that matches mine. When I find one, I point to it.

“Same Same?”

Yes, “Same Same.” She then starts cutting my hair. In the US, my haircut will normally last about 10-15 minutes, which includes shampoo and a rinse afterward. The haircut in Thailand is much longer process. The lady cutting my hair looked at my head like an artist looks at a bare canvas. She first combed in into many different directions to get a feel for how my hair would lay under different circumstances. She spent time trying to balance my head and find the exact amount of hair to cut. After doing a series of preparatory steps, she asked me “trim?”

Yes please.

The first cut! Wow, that only took about an hour. She continues to cut my hair, not once using a razor. Everything is done with scissors. She cuts and sculpts, cuts and sculpts until finally she creates something she can be happy with. She looks to me for affirmation. My hair has never looked better. She did a really good job.

After the haircut, we return (agh!) to the hairwashing station for another wash and to rinse the loose hair out of my head. We go back to the haircutting station and my hair is styled by another woman. I still have yet to understand why woman in salon’s feel that men want their hair as bouffant as possible? Why do they think this is a good look for us? Oh well, I don’t feel the energy to try and explain that one, so I let it go. After she finishes styling my hair, yet another lady comes by to add the gel. The gel serves a good purpose of lowering the height of my hair. Okay, now I look somewhat presentable, and it appears as though my haircut it complete. I pay for the service and head on my way. Now I’m hungry. I need to find some food.

…And Some Food
Now tired from the 1.5 hour haircut, I just want to get some food, eat and leave. I spot a Pizza Hut. Livonia would hate me for even thinking of going here, but right now it is sounding pretty good to me. I walk over to it and notice a sign that says “please wait for us to seat you.” In English, no doubt. This is promising. I wait, and wait, and wait. Nobody comes by to seat me. I walk a little further in to spot three hostesses at a booth just inside the door. They see me and take me to a table. I am handed a menu and look inside to spot nothing but Thai words.

Perfect.

Luckily, Pizza Hut is big on pictures. They have some pretty interesting pizza combinations here. They are also very big on the whole “stuffed crust” thing. Have you ever had a crust stuffed with hot dog, and had the hot dog stuffed with mozzarella cheese? Yeah, me neither. You also get it stuffed with sausage or a combination of other delectable delights. I spot the picture for a Hawaiian Pizza and order that one. No stuffing in my crust, thank you. The guy taking my order says a bunch of stuff to me in Thai. I’m assuming he wants to know how big of a pizza I want. The only words I know are Lek (small) and Yai (big). I want neither. I want medium. How do I tell this guy that? We stare at each in blank amazement. I’m starting to realize that I will play this game many times before my trip is over. Finally, he says “Small, Medium, Large,” and in English!

Medium Please.

He takes my order and then heads out. A few minutes later, I’m eating pizza. I’m happy.

Animalism V. Christianity
After eating, I stop off at the church to pick up Livonia. While there, Livonia offers me up to the pastor, indicating that I used to teach classes at Chandler Christian. He seems very interesting in getting me involved in teaching here, and wants me to have lunch with him on Sunday. This could be fun. I haven’t taught a class in quite awhile, so it will be good to have something to get me back into God’s Word again.

While at this “Alpha class,” I join a conversation with the lady Livonia has been talking to. A lady who is interested in Christianity, but has many questions about why Jesus, and why the God of the world would make things so hard that you have to trust in only one man, and why the people who do good things but believe that animals are their God are going to Hell when the man who believes in Jesus but rapes the world of its resources will go to Heaven. Boy, that’s a mouthful, huh? As I listened to her talk, it became very evident that she had not read much of the Bible, as most of her questions could very easily have been answered by the Bible. The more I would try to answer questions, the more argumentative she became. It started to become obvious that she wasn’t ready to hear what I had to say, so I backed off and related my own experiences to growing closer to God. When I took the burden off her, she relaxed a bit more and told me that all she wants is to know the relationship with God that so many Christians already know. Me, and every other Christian at the table told her that starting from that point is a great place to start.

It felt good getting back into Apologetics. I’m hoping God presents more opportunities to me in the future.

Until next time…