I've purposely been letting my hair get a wee bit shaggy so that I could get a haircut ("bazzer") in Ireland.
Today was the day that I transformed to look like a local.
After a quick google search, I found a barber a quarter mile from campus: Johnny Barber!
My barber was from Killarney and looked like a pierced, delinquent Seamus Finnigan (from Harry Potter).
When I was living in Beijing, haircuts were a bit of an adventure: I'd sit down, the barber would presumably ask me how I wanted the cut, I'd kinda wave my hand and pinch my hair at varying lengths, and then shrug. I figured that getting a haircut in Ireland would be pretty straightforward.
Well, Seamus' accent proved a challenge.
When he asked me (presumably) how I wanted it cut, I had to ask for clarification three times before I understood what he was asking. I responded, "oh whatever the trending Irish haircut is right now." (think of the European soccer players in the World Cup. That's what I see a good bit of [ohhh the World Cup..... the US is out.... *cries*]).
Then I asked him about soccer/football vs rugby, and he said that rugby wasn't huge there. Then I asked about Hurling because I'd seen a celebratory banner in a small town about a local Hurling team. He said something something something "stick" something something "ball", I filled in the blanks and asked, "oh, so like field hockey?" He responded that it wasn't quite, and then he and another barber got into an argument about how best to describe hurling, and kinda nervously laughed, and then I realized that the guy was holding a buzzer to my head and I decided to stop asking questions, lest things escalate and I end up looking like and Irish skinhead.
I mean, things were fine, but I surmised that this "meeting the locals" thing wasn't going very far.
Anyway, the haircut ended peachily (12.5 euro) and I was on my way.
Btw, apparently my Irish haircut is very similar to my American haircut, except that the guy cut my back hairline very straight/angularly. I totally blend in now! (get it? "blend"? like in a haircut?)
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Afterward, I ran over to UL's sports arena for a group fitness class: Trak Attack! (c omitted for stylistic purposes)
It was basically a circuit workout with various stations. Main differences: they called "jumping jacks", "star jumps" and "jumping rope", "skipping." At first I was slightly confused and almost started American skipping.
The small group that I went through the stations with had a lass whose name was Aileen. By the end, we were all cheering for each other, and at one point, the phrase "come on, Aileen!" came out of my mouth.
You can guess which song I've had stuck in my head all evening.
Today was the day that I transformed to look like a local.
After a quick google search, I found a barber a quarter mile from campus: Johnny Barber!
.JPG) |
| note to self: Rio's sells fish & chips. return. |
When I was living in Beijing, haircuts were a bit of an adventure: I'd sit down, the barber would presumably ask me how I wanted the cut, I'd kinda wave my hand and pinch my hair at varying lengths, and then shrug. I figured that getting a haircut in Ireland would be pretty straightforward.
Well, Seamus' accent proved a challenge.
When he asked me (presumably) how I wanted it cut, I had to ask for clarification three times before I understood what he was asking. I responded, "oh whatever the trending Irish haircut is right now." (think of the European soccer players in the World Cup. That's what I see a good bit of [ohhh the World Cup..... the US is out.... *cries*]).
Then I asked him about soccer/football vs rugby, and he said that rugby wasn't huge there. Then I asked about Hurling because I'd seen a celebratory banner in a small town about a local Hurling team. He said something something something "stick" something something "ball", I filled in the blanks and asked, "oh, so like field hockey?" He responded that it wasn't quite, and then he and another barber got into an argument about how best to describe hurling, and kinda nervously laughed, and then I realized that the guy was holding a buzzer to my head and I decided to stop asking questions, lest things escalate and I end up looking like and Irish skinhead.
I mean, things were fine, but I surmised that this "meeting the locals" thing wasn't going very far.
Anyway, the haircut ended peachily (12.5 euro) and I was on my way.
Btw, apparently my Irish haircut is very similar to my American haircut, except that the guy cut my back hairline very straight/angularly. I totally blend in now! (get it? "blend"? like in a haircut?)
Afterward, I ran over to UL's sports arena for a group fitness class: Trak Attack! (c omitted for stylistic purposes)
It was basically a circuit workout with various stations. Main differences: they called "jumping jacks", "star jumps" and "jumping rope", "skipping." At first I was slightly confused and almost started American skipping.
The small group that I went through the stations with had a lass whose name was Aileen. By the end, we were all cheering for each other, and at one point, the phrase "come on, Aileen!" came out of my mouth.
You can guess which song I've had stuck in my head all evening.
Next time ask about GAA! THAT's a REAL sport! ;)
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