Hairdresser Adventures

A visit to the hairdresser or beautician can be a little daunting at the best of times but when you can't speak the same language, all you can do is hope for the best. Lucky for me I grow hair very fast, very dark and very thickly.

Visit to the Hairdresser - I have a young male hairdresser, who rocks up 10 minutes late looking like he has just crawled out of bed, its usually 1 o'clock, as this is the earliest appointment you can make. He waves to me from outside while he has a smoke and talks or texts on his phone. He swans in checks himself out in the mirror, puts on his aftershave, plugs in his phone, runs his fingers thru his hair all the while kissing every lady in the place and shaking every mans hand. My turn, yahoo. I have had the same haircut and colour since arriving usually very good. Colour on, colour off, cut time. I read a magazine or book during my appointment as it seems very strange to just sit there looking in the mirror not communicating. I only glance at the mirror once or twice, my hairdresser known to me as becho ( which means boy) cuts away and don't get me wrong he does a lovely cut, usually. But this particular time with already half my head cut, he asks in his little English "did you want short or very short today". As I look up, in my head im saying well its too $?@&$?0 late now isn't it, but instead in my new slow, shortened speak I say "its ok" all the while thinking how did my pixie hair cut go from making me look like a dark version of Michelle Williams to a Lesbian Biker Chick, no offence to the Lesbain Biker Chicks reading my blog but it just wasn't the look I was going for. I say my thank yous and goodbyes in Georgian and go meet my friend for lunch. "Oh it's lovely", she says "it really suits you", as she hands me her hairdressers card.

Driving - survival of the fittest

The Georgian culture is a very touchy, feely type of culture.   They  kiss you on greeting and love to cuddle the children.  You often see people walking down the street arm in arm, even the big burly front rowers on their post game recovery walks, which to us Kiwis is not something you see often.  I love this part of the culture,  its something the girls struggle with at times, BUT I'm guessing this is why personal space in other areas of Georgians everyday life is not an issue to them, but to me in my not so good week this was an issue, especially with the driving.  I have been driving now for well over half the time we have been here, so I can hear you saying go with the flow Ang, but this raging bull had road rage.

  Think standing  up in long queue and there are people coming in at different stages.   Pushing  in beside you, in front of you and behind you and you are carrying some very precious crystal glasses, oh and I forgot to mention they are all expecting you to just let them in.  Watch out for your crystal.  This is what driving is like,  continuously.  No indication, running red lights, passing when ever, and queue jumping at the lights.  Arrrrrggggggg.  Lets also not forget the importance of being a pedestrian.   Pedestrians  have no respect for the damage a car can do to them, they either just walk out onto the road or hold their hand up and expect you to stop.  I read an article in the local paper that said, injuries and deaths are mainly to the drivers of cars, trying to dodge pedestrians and hitting on coming traffic,  go figure, use the bloody underground crossings.

On that note I will sign off and I think I will walk today.