While I’m
still here I have to try to keep myself healthy and looking decent enough not
to scare the kids I teach so, I try to eat well and do some exercise. I also try to spend some time outdoors and
take some vitamins. Yesterday, I decided
to visit the beauty salon in a bid to rejuvenate and relax.
I went to a
new salon called Apples and Oranges on Victoria Island. It’s really quite a nice place; very modern,
very cool and calm. I had a manicure,
pedicure, facial and various other things.
Everything went well and I felt good.
I have tried many salons in and around Ikoyi and VI and I have
experienced various bodily disasters, for example, the time I asked someone to
tint my eyebrows and ended up looking like I had a large African man’s eyebrows
transplanted onto my face. There is also
the time I asked for a straightforward bikini wax and left feeling like a
plucked (and violated) chicken.
After
completing all of my treatments and spending most of the afternoon in the salon
I decided to ask about getting my hair done.
I had observed a variety of ladies coming and going with lovely hair all
afternoon. Not many places in Lagos are
experienced or have the knowledge to cut and style European hair so I usually
just wait until I go back to the UK to have my hair cut. Just like many salons in the UK either have
people who can do African hair or they wouldn’t attempt it through lack of
experience. I asked if it was possible
to have my hair washed and blow dried.
The woman looked at me in shock and said of course. She said it was no problem at all. I trusted them because everything else had
gone so well.
Often, in
Lagos, people say they can do things when they actually have no idea if they
can. They aim to please and, for
whatever reason, cannot say no. This is
characterised by the ‘yes, ma’ answer to everything. I understand that there are a lot of nasty
folks around with too much money and a power complex who get angry at those
trying to provide a service for very unimportant reasons and enjoy watching
people run around after them. But,
actually claiming to provide a service when the reality is you HAVE NO CLUE is
very detrimental to both client and provider.
I sat in the
chair. The guy told me how lovely my
hair was and began to wash. Everything
was fine until he started scrubbing my head.
I asked him to be a little gentler and he obliged. After washing he asked me stand up. I asked him to use conditioner so he left me
for a few minutes and after a heated discussion with another employee came back
and proceeded to condition my hair.
After a few minutes we were done.
I resumed my seat in the hairdresser’s chair.
I guess I
knew something was amiss when he began to comb my hair. He couldn’t get through the tugs and
knots. He gave up and started blow
drying using his fingers. No round
brushes in sight, which are the type usually used on my hair. I stopped him after a few minutes as my hair
was growing in size and knots and I could hear and feel the strands snapping
under his touch. He was horrified and so
was I. The Nigerian ladies behind me started
to giggle and told me it looked like afro hair.
I said politely that I was going to go home and would wash it
myself. The manager came and sat me down
again, insisting that he had to brush it out.
After another ten minutes of pain and snapping and humiliation I got up
and left. I didn’t take my anger out on
the guy who washed my hair but let loose a little on the receptionist who had
assured me they could do it. It turned
out they had washed my hair with products for African hair.
Today is
Sunday and I have just washed my tresses for the ninth time. It still feels like there is a tonne of oil
in it and I can hardly get a brush through it.
My plan for R and R didn’t really work out. I’m still stressed and run down but now have
giant, greasy hair to add to my list of complaints.
Another
Lagos lesson learnt I guess.
