This morning I woke up happy, drank some strong coffee and skipped off to the Salon. Braided hair awaited me!
I was met by four lovely Kenyans waiting to cause me medieval torture! Under the veil of Kiswalhili banter which included a lengthy discussion on the extent of my dandruff, I quietly suffered.
If you have yet to have your hair pleated, let me explain. It’s a scary mess of hair knots, scalp stretching pain and tiny little braids. I honestly wanted to cry at least 3 times! What was I thinking!
Then... I looked in the mirror. What greeted me were tiny, meticulous braids that flared at the end (since my hair doesn’t stay put) and a balding look that only suits a select few. I’m not sure I’m part of that few but I don’t care.
I like the fact I only have to wash my hair every month or so... and get to use waxy-oil on my scalp. I like it a lot.
And frankly, I’m excited to hear what my Sudanese Pregos think of it all. I’m betting they laugh pretty hard! ;- ) I like it when they laugh.