the women at the salon

I start my new job tomorrow.

In 8.5 hours to be exact.

And I can't sleep.

I think its the caffeine I had earlier today.


When I was in Kumasi, Ghana....
I had to get my hair braided. I wanted 100 little ones. There were about 5 salons along the street where I was living and I couldn't pass up the opportunity. My Ghanaian friend, Lydia, took me to the nearest salon and told the women what I wanted. Lots of little braids. They were amused. A red-headed white girl wanted to be like the Ghanaian women.

It was a slighlty awkward situation, but totally worth it. One of the women had gone to school through 4th grade so she knew about as much English as I know Spanish. She was excited to work with my strange hair and practice her English with me. She was extatic when I told her my Ghanaian "day name" was Akosua (pronounced Akossia, meaning I was born on a Sunday). Another woman came in who knew quite a lot of English and was extremely eager to show off her language abilities. Of course some of the kids came over to watch me get my hair braided. One of them was so scared of me that when she saw my face she started crying. They ended up having to take her home. haha.

This all happened in the first 45 minutes or so.

It took them 4 hours. four.

And most of the time there were at least three women simultaneously working on my hair.

After the excitement caused by a white girl being in the salon wore off they all started talking to each other in Twi (the local language). I became a fly on the wall, my head being pulled and tugged in all directions, my hair all over the place, my butt going numb. I just sat there watching them interact, making jokes (some most likely about me), discussing some seemingly boring things, some other clearly important things, and some random stuff. The kids kept running in and out, sometimes trying to convince the crying girl to come back. (That story ends happily: she became my friend.)

I think 5 women total worked on my hair. The total cost: 30,000 cedi, also known as $3.33.

5 women. 4 hours. 3 dollars.

I could almost not bare giving them so little. I was able to squeeze in a 10,000 cedi/$1 tip. Giving them more than that would have been insulting.

Spending those 4 hours watching them made me want to know them. I wanted to know what they were talking about, why they were laughing, why they were getting excited, why they sounded disappointed. I wanted to understand them. All I could do was give them 4 dollars.

I took some pictures with them. And I said "medase pa" ("thank you very much") over and over again. I said hello to them afterwards every time I walked by the salon. They were always there - every day - doing someone's hair.

Its 12am here which means its, I think, 9am in Ghana. You know what that means? They are probably in the salon right now: waiting for a customer, working on someone's hair, or talking about something really funny in Twi.

I start my job tomorrow, or today I guess. It took me about 6 weeks to find it and all I could find was a part-time position. But I am making way way way more than $3 every four hours. And I don't have to hope for business. I just have to fill in my time card. I even get to work where I want to work. In fact I was extremely picky when I looked for my job. Not only that, but I get to use the degree I was fortunate enough to obtain.

I miss those women in the hair salon and I pray that God blesses them with more business than they can handle this week.

I pray that I remember them when I begin to be ungrateful about my job, because I know I eventually will. I pray that I'll think about the time when I was sitting on their floor with my numb butt, watching them live their extremely difficult lives with hope, joy and love. I pray that I will think about the woman who had to leave school in the fourth grade to start working and supporting her family.

I pray that I will work joyfully for them just as they did for me.