May 23rd, 2010
Selcuk, Turkey
I'm not much of a pretty boy, but even I need a little "man care" from time to time and that how I came to find myself in a Turkish barber shop today. I can honestly say that today's experience was the most comprehensive barber shop experiences of my life. Yes, comprehensive, not totally excellent or overwhelmingly satisfying; this was a haircut taken to Olympian heights.
I started at lunch when the restaurant owner heard me practicing the Turkish phrase for I'd like a razor shave. Being Turkish, he immediately offered up his favorite shop down the alley and yelled down to his barber that I wanted a shave. I tacitly agreed and continued to down my cold Efes while wondering what exotic hair cut rituals lay ahead. I tried to pay for lunch and the owner (now busy waiter) said no problem just pay after your haircut. So off I went.
As I sat down I rattled off my newly practiced Turkish indicating that not only did I need a shave but I also wanted a cut, and make it short on top. We started from the top. He did a little preliminary head rubbing and hair mussing and then shampooed my hair with my face in the sink. We don't normally do face in the sink shampooing where I'm from, but after the initial shock I was able to cope.
Next he cut and combed and cut some more. At one point he had combed my hair so much and so vigorously that my scalp actually began to feel raw. Just then a bowl of magic mentholated cream appeared and he rubbed it deeply into my scalp. As I sat there with my head in increasingly colder bliss, he began to prepare my face for a straight shave.
Straight shaves are serious business and barbers don't like cutting their clients, so he examined each contour of my face like a skier studies the course before a race. During the examination he must have found some things he didn't like because he used some unknown tools to dig and free up what I can only assume were in-grown hairs in my beard. Then came several warming creams and then the brushed on lather.
At this point I've been in the chair for 45 minutes, roughly 30 minutes longer than my longest haircut ever, and my head is still blissing away under the effects of the menthol cream on my scalp. The shave goes well until I realize that my baby face has not handled the shave as well as I thought and I've got micro nicks on my neck and chin that are beginning to bleed. No worries, there is a fast and effective way to stop shaving nicks. An assistant barber shows up with what must have been a "styptic" bar of soap that was spread all over my face. In a second those tiny nicks stopped bleeding in a symphony of needle like pains all over my face. Luckily the pain was offset by the menthol rub that had now effectively frozen my brain.
Now that the shave was over it was time to wash out the menthol. Face in sink, I revel in the mix of sensations this "haircut" has brought on. Secretly I'm relieved that its almost over because after an hour I was not sure I'd be up for much more primping. You guessed it, there was more. After some serious scalp rubbing it was time for "little hair removal".
Removing little hairs is tough and requires specialized tools as I found out. First there was what I thought was dental floss. I literally was preparing to open my mouth and shut my eyes for a flossing when the barber began to roll this twisted string all over my cheeks pulling many "little hairs" out by their roots. I admit this hurt almost as much as the metallic paste that was used to stop the bleeding. Next came the flaming cue tip that was thumped against my ears and face. I'm not sure what that was for but it was cool to see in the mirror as the flame licked my skin.
Finally, after an hour and a half I was looking like a new man and was ready to pay. I must have looked tired because a full scalp, arm and back massage ensued. At one point the barber had what appeared to be a random orbital sander wedged between the seat and my lower back. That felt good!
In the end, with a wink and a splash of lemon water, he announced that we were done and now it was time to enjoy some tea. In a flash we were outside sitting in a makeshift cafe, sipping tea with a bunch of other guys with menthol paste in their hair who must have needed cigarette breaks during their haircuts.
All I can say is that if you're ever in Turkey and you've got a few hours, man-up and go in for a haircut and a shave. You wont soon forget it.
--Paul
Selcuk, Turkey
I'm not much of a pretty boy, but even I need a little "man care" from time to time and that how I came to find myself in a Turkish barber shop today. I can honestly say that today's experience was the most comprehensive barber shop experiences of my life. Yes, comprehensive, not totally excellent or overwhelmingly satisfying; this was a haircut taken to Olympian heights.
I started at lunch when the restaurant owner heard me practicing the Turkish phrase for I'd like a razor shave. Being Turkish, he immediately offered up his favorite shop down the alley and yelled down to his barber that I wanted a shave. I tacitly agreed and continued to down my cold Efes while wondering what exotic hair cut rituals lay ahead. I tried to pay for lunch and the owner (now busy waiter) said no problem just pay after your haircut. So off I went.
As I sat down I rattled off my newly practiced Turkish indicating that not only did I need a shave but I also wanted a cut, and make it short on top. We started from the top. He did a little preliminary head rubbing and hair mussing and then shampooed my hair with my face in the sink. We don't normally do face in the sink shampooing where I'm from, but after the initial shock I was able to cope.
Next he cut and combed and cut some more. At one point he had combed my hair so much and so vigorously that my scalp actually began to feel raw. Just then a bowl of magic mentholated cream appeared and he rubbed it deeply into my scalp. As I sat there with my head in increasingly colder bliss, he began to prepare my face for a straight shave.
Straight shaves are serious business and barbers don't like cutting their clients, so he examined each contour of my face like a skier studies the course before a race. During the examination he must have found some things he didn't like because he used some unknown tools to dig and free up what I can only assume were in-grown hairs in my beard. Then came several warming creams and then the brushed on lather.
At this point I've been in the chair for 45 minutes, roughly 30 minutes longer than my longest haircut ever, and my head is still blissing away under the effects of the menthol cream on my scalp. The shave goes well until I realize that my baby face has not handled the shave as well as I thought and I've got micro nicks on my neck and chin that are beginning to bleed. No worries, there is a fast and effective way to stop shaving nicks. An assistant barber shows up with what must have been a "styptic" bar of soap that was spread all over my face. In a second those tiny nicks stopped bleeding in a symphony of needle like pains all over my face. Luckily the pain was offset by the menthol rub that had now effectively frozen my brain.
Now that the shave was over it was time to wash out the menthol. Face in sink, I revel in the mix of sensations this "haircut" has brought on. Secretly I'm relieved that its almost over because after an hour I was not sure I'd be up for much more primping. You guessed it, there was more. After some serious scalp rubbing it was time for "little hair removal".
Removing little hairs is tough and requires specialized tools as I found out. First there was what I thought was dental floss. I literally was preparing to open my mouth and shut my eyes for a flossing when the barber began to roll this twisted string all over my cheeks pulling many "little hairs" out by their roots. I admit this hurt almost as much as the metallic paste that was used to stop the bleeding. Next came the flaming cue tip that was thumped against my ears and face. I'm not sure what that was for but it was cool to see in the mirror as the flame licked my skin.
Finally, after an hour and a half I was looking like a new man and was ready to pay. I must have looked tired because a full scalp, arm and back massage ensued. At one point the barber had what appeared to be a random orbital sander wedged between the seat and my lower back. That felt good!
In the end, with a wink and a splash of lemon water, he announced that we were done and now it was time to enjoy some tea. In a flash we were outside sitting in a makeshift cafe, sipping tea with a bunch of other guys with menthol paste in their hair who must have needed cigarette breaks during their haircuts.
All I can say is that if you're ever in Turkey and you've got a few hours, man-up and go in for a haircut and a shave. You wont soon forget it.
--Paul
1 comment:
Paul, that is too funny!
Love the photos of Ephesus, too!
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