Flightster

Unbearable Travel Haircuts

• by Colin Wright
• on September 20th, 2010
• 6 Comments

It sounds nit-picky, I know, but probably my least favorite part of going to a new country is trying to figure out how and where I can get a decent hair cut.

I think it must be a lack of planning on my part, that I always seem to need one just a week or two after I arrive in a new place. And it’s a lack of initiative that I generally wait a few more weeks after that to get the deed done, which leaves me shaggy and homeless-looking for my introductory month in my new home.

My hair gets in my eyes, taking over my head like some kind of parasitic mop. If it’s hot and humid outside, as soon as I step out the door anything I’ve done to it is undone, hair product melted, strands channeling sweat from the top of my head to my face.

It’s not cool, guys. Not cool at all.

But the issue is this: much more than the casual purchases one needs to make on a day to day basis, getting one’s haircut requires a decent amount of preparation when you are in a country with an unfamiliar language. You can’t just walk in and point to a sign, saying “I want that one!” and expect them to know exactly how to do it, transaction complete, everyone happy.

No, that would be too easy. Instead, if you’re like me, you take a photo of yourself when you had the kind of haircut you want, put it on your iPod Touch and whip that sucker out as soon as you’ve conveyed to the person in the barbershop/salon that you want a cut (usually by pulling out a strand of hair and making ‘snippy snippy’ motions with your fingers).

Unfortunately, this isn’t usually enough to get an accurate idea of what kind of cut you want, so strange things happen to your head, based on the culture in question.

While in Argentina, for example, the barber cutting my hair was dead-set on giving me the most epic mullet you’ve ever seen. When I indicated that, no, I did not want a party in the back, he trimmed for a bit and then held up a mirror, proudly showing me the rat-tail he’d carved out of my hair.

You can’t blame him, though – mullets and rat tails were the cat’s meow while I was in Buenos Aires, and all the cool kids had them. Why wouldn’t I want one?

Indeed, why not? I’m all about trying to blend in with a culture while I’m living on their turf. Why not mullet it up a bit and see what happens?

Hair cultural relativity, that’s why. What works for one kind of hair doesn’t work for another, and my Caucasian hair cannot pull off a mullet or rat tail with the same gusto and charm that a Latin person’s can. It would make me look like a demolition derby fan, but it makes them look like futbol players. Very different references.

So here I sit, dreading a similar experience in Thailand.

I could give in and go with the traditional backpacker dreadlocks, but no, I’m not a backpacker, and that part of town doesn’t really do it for me anyway.

I could spend a bunch of time trying to identify the ideal stylist through my network of high-rolling traveler friends, but then I’d end up making an appointment somewhere across town, when all I really want is something simple and relatively cheap.

No, I’m going to do what I tend to do any time I realize I’m sitting on my hands and afraid to move forward: I’m going to jump.

There’s a place just down the street that will be fine, and if it’s not, well, hair grows back.

The worst that can happen is that I’ll have a haircut I don’t like for a little while. Big deal! I’ve been through worse. Today’s tragedies are tomorrow’s comedies anyway, and I’m sure the photos would be priceless.

This idea applies to EVERYTHING regarding traveling (and life, really). What’s the worst that could happen? If you went and faced your fears and trepidation right now, what could go wrong? And so what if it does? What are you gaining from hanging around, biding your time?

I for one am sick of waiting. Wish me (and my hair) luck. It’s time to jump.

Colin Wright

Colin Wright is a minimalist, branding expert and serial entrepreneur. While running his blog Exile Lifestyle ,his branding studio Colin Is My Name and his e-publishing business ebookling. Colin travels the world (moving to a new country every 4 months), meeting up with amazing people, giving talks (to audiences ranging from tech industry professionals to college students to Catholic school girls) and hunting down new and interesting experiences.