El Corte

More of the mundane. Yes, a post about a haircut. Life down here isn’t always about restaurants, souvenirs, drinks on the beach, and shopping. Enough people are writing and filming about all that. I sometimes wonder what happens to people who spent months ‘researching’ a move to Mexico by watching Youtube and reading travel blogs when they get hit with the reality of the ‘oh yeah, didn’t think about that’ moment. One day you will look in the mirror and realize you are pretty soon going to look like that capture photo of Saddam Hussein if you don’t go out and get a haircut.

My last haircut before leaving was on a dark, below -30 Celcius morning. It really wasn’t worth getting up for, nor the cost either. But I figured I would get cleaned up a little before making my journey down to Mexico. Over the last couple of years I have just been cutting my own hair. Honestly, it didn’t seem any worse than what I was paying for. As long as the front and sides were okay that was good enough for me. If the back part wasn’t looking so good, so be it. That’s what you see, not me.

I had really found the experience of getting a haircut to have become quite absurd. Especially seeing it in a sleepy prairie province city (say that fast three times). It seems the ‘experience’ has evolved into a menu of choices - all for an additional cost. I actually looked to see if ‘small talk’ was listed as a paid option. Gone are the days where you could just show up for a basic or affordable cut. When I did the math on the haircut it was unreal. At the rate being charged for roughly a 15-20 minute appointment they were making almost double my hourly wage rate. Hmm, so much for the expensive education. And a tip is expected on top of it.

I grew up in the era where you called ahead to either make an appointment or get an idea of how busy the day was. Or you showed up and looked to see how many people were ahead of you. Some days the barber would be able to see you, other days the wait would be too long. No apps. No websites. No data collection. The only information you were required to give was your first name - once. After that they knew you. That kind of place where all the magazines were out of date because they were there more for decoration. Because people actually talked to each other (no phones to stare at). Okay sure, amongst the National Geographic, Time, and Sports Illustrated were the Playboy and Penthouse magazines. But very few actually looked. A quick flip open to see the middle page, and back to the stack it would go.

As I walked around this new city one thing I found a little funny was all the barber poles and signage with the traditional barber stripes. Something you don’t see too often anymore. Obviously I wouldn’t be showing up and ‘shooting the breeze’ with anyone here, but I might just be able to go back to finding a place where it can be just that simple - a haircut. No doubt I have seen places that look like professional salons. But it seemed refreshing to me to see something I was familiar with. Kind of like when you see a VW Bug.

Peluqueria - translates to hairdresser or barbershop.

Barberia - a barber shop.

The advice for food is always go to where they are busy because it is an indication that the food is good and the locals like it. But I went the opposite route for the haircut. I wanted somewhere quiet and where I could get it over with right away. Yup, the language barrier still a little bit of an intimidation (bear in mind I got this cut long before this will be posted). So I didn’t want to verbally stumble in front of a lot of people.

From my wanderings there are no shortage of places around the city. There was a little shop a few blocks away from my apartment. A place where you can just get a cut. I am sure if I had better hair I could get it styled, but for my needs it was just what I was looking for.

By this point I am sure you can already anticipate that I rehearsed a few phrases before my visit. While I am sure it is frustrating to the locals not speaking their language fluently enough, they are polite and understanding; patient at times. But some will appreciate any effort you make to try. I did seek some advice on a general range of prices for what a cut may cost. So I went to my first visit equipped with a little knowledge of what I might expect in terms of price. And if I was quoted something unreasonably outside of that I could pass and go somewhere else.

At times on my walks in the neighbourhood I see that the shop is closed around siesta time. Afternoons tend to get pretty hot. Maybe the flow of business isn’t worth staying open for.

So I planned to go late afternoon (en la tarde) after they reopened and when it would start to cool down a little. As you can see, no signs or information on hours of operation so it felt a little hit-or-miss in terms of timing. I lucked out on my timing. They were open and no one waiting. Wide open store front and nice and shaded inside.

I walked in and gave a loud enough “buenas tardes” to get the barbers attention (he was just relaxing in his back room). Got a friendly greeting in return as he quickly suited up his haircutting apron.

I asked what the cost may be, and he mentioned an amount. I kind of caught it. Spanish tends to be spoken quite quickly and at this stage of my learning it seems even faster. From what I thought I understood it seemed in line. Was I completely confident in what I thought I heard? Sort of. But confident enough to accept his invitation to the chair.

I described as best I could the type of cut I needed. Thankfully most of it could be done with clippers. I tried to mention the length of time since my last cut just to give him an idea of how short he could go. It was enough for him to go on and get started. He put on some music to listen to while he did his thing. At one point he wanted to check with me about how much to take off the top. This part was a fun one. Do I say ‘mas’ or ‘menos’? I wanted more taken off, but would he take it as more length? Oddly enough he asked '“mas?” In order to avoid any confusing language on my part I decided to settle the verbal stalemate I was feeling I was in by reaching up from under the smock. Then motioned the international symbol for down - I pointed my index finger in a downward motion. Then I joked with him - do I say ‘mas o menos?’ But we did get past the little quandry.

Soon came out the mirror to inspect the back. With a nod of approval I told him “me gusta”. Phew. Got through that part. Now back to finding out exactly how much I am going to pay for this. Quite quickly he reminds me of the amount. Dammit! Missed the first part again. I am convinced that Mexican Spanish is the equivalent of Quebec French. It is its own thing. So I decide to start with the big bill first. If he turns to give me change I know its under. If he still holds out his hand I keep feeding him. Back to The Price is Right . . . higher, higher! So I then hand him another bill. I figured the cinco part of what he said meant I was off now by only a small amount. And when I got a look of ‘Orale!’, I knew at that moment I had completed our transaction to his satisfaction. Just as sudden as he turned around to tuck the newly earned bills away, I knew at that moment the relationship was now consummated.

Have to admit getting an open air hair cut is a nice experience. However, as I left the barberia, I could not help feeling a little conflicted. Did I just leave there a bit of a sucker, or a really good tipper? All kidding aside, as I rubbed the back of my newly coiffured head it didn’t seem to matter much. I got through yet another right of passage of sorts. No doubt feeling fortunate to come across another nice person along this absurd little odyssey I am on.