My Head Weighs Less

The first time I got my haircut here was about three months ago. Summers in Korea are damn hot, so I really needed to do anything I could to cool down. I'm really lucky that there's a beauty salon right in the building I work in--and that that salon has a hairdresser that speaks English.

The name of the beauty salon is "Mister Beauty Salon" in English, which I would read as Mister Beauty...Salon. In Korean, the name is two words: the Konglish word "Mister" and the Korean word for "Beauty Salon," so the name should really be "Mister...Beauty Salon." Good times.

Konglish, by the way, is the part of the Korean language that's based on English. There are a lot of Konglish words in Korean, mostly the words for things that have been invented in the last 40 years, but also some random things that I don't understand. For example, "Sports" in Korean in "Su-poe-ch." Did they not have sports in Korea before the English influence?

A funny thing that Koreans that speak English well often say is "I don't really speak English. I just know how to speak Konglish well." That's never true otherwise they couldn't make the joke.

I sat down in the chair at the hairdressers after waiting 20 minutes or so. You can't make appointments in Korea--not at the beauty salon, not at the doctors, not anywhere--so it's a good idea when going to places like that to be prepared to wait. A 20 minute wait isn't bad, though (and I only waited 15 when I got my hair cut today); you're expected to wait that long even if you DO make an appointment in the US.

The main reason that the waits are so short is because so many people work in the salons. I'm guessing Mr. Beauty Salon employs 30 hairdressers--and each one has two or three helpers.

As I said before, I'm lucky to have found a hairdresser that speaks English. I sat down in the chair, worried as hell, and tried to fumble through hand gestures and one month of Korean before she stopped me. Obviously, they had stuck me with her for a reason.

"What would you like?" she asked.

I sighed and explained. "Do you want me to layer up the sides?" she asked. I shed the simple English that I use with most Koreans that try to speak English to me, and went fully fluent.

Now, the best thing about Korean haircuts isn't the haircut (that's rather boring, so I'll skip it); instead, it's what comes after the haircut.

When my head was good and light, and there was what looked like a small black Lhasa Opso on the ground, my hairdresser asked me, "would you like a shampoo?" What the hell, I thought. I hate that itchy after haircut feeling and that'd probably stop it.

Well, a shampoo isn't just a shampoo here. A shampoo starts with a shampoo (oddly), but then moves on. A shampoo leads to a nice soothing rinse. A rinse leads to conditioner. And conditioner, Lord help me, leads to a heavenly scalp massage. I never would have thought I'd say it, but I mostly just get my hair cut for the massages. That who process takes about 10 or 15 minutes. That 10 minutes alone is worth the price of the haircut and more.

The first time I got my haircut, the head massager was totally into and did a great job. Today, the massager was, shall was say, rather afraid of foreigners it seemed. She wasn't too fond of touching me and got it over as quickly as possible. Still, it was good.

After your scalp is good and loose, they throw you back in the haircut chair and actually style your hair for you. I didn't ask for this, and really, it weirds me out, but hey, when in Korea. After my hair was styled the first time, the hairdresser came back over and said "Ohhh, sec-shy," which of course means "sexy" but Koreans, even those as fluent as the hairdresser, have a hard time with the "x" sound.

They also have a fun time with "r," "f," "z," and a few others. What do you expect though? Their language doesn't have the sounds. I sure as hell can't pronounce some letters in Korean, which, I'm sure, is as funny for Koreans as it is for me when they call a phone a "pone" or say my name "lion" (which, by the way, is my name when I write it in Korean).

Today when I got my haircut, I wasn't so "sec-shy." Instead, the hairdresser said to me: "next time, if you want something different, bring a picture." Hardly a vote of confidence. Still, I look pretty good. And what can you ask for for the price. A haircut, a shampoo/scalp massage, AND a styling costs less than $10. And the place I go is considered pretty upscale, so is more expensive than a lot of Korean beauty salons.

R