I Wonder If They'll Burn More Easily Now

One of the problems with foreign language instruction in schools is that, no matter how much you study the language, you never learn ex ante the words you actually need to survive (and here I'm using the broadest possible definition of survive) in a country where that language is spoken.  For example, after being in Peru for a week and having fingernails that were longer than I am normally comfortable with, I realized that fingernail clippers were one of several things I had neglected to pack.  At the time, I could speak Spanish very well and could circumlocute with the best of them, but never in my textbooks had I encountered 'fingernail' or 'fingernail clippers'. Given my circumlocution abilities, however, and reasonably assuming that people in Peru also cut their nails, I knew that I would be able to purchase some from a store without problems.  And so, I vividly remember walking into a pharmacy in Cuzco, pointing to my fingernail, and saying 'Necesito algo para cortar esta parte del dedo.'  At which point the pharmacist behind the counter (I think everyone who works in a pharmacy in Peru is considered a pharmacist, which is somewhat frightening, but that's another matter) responded '¡Ah, la cortauña!'  So I left with my new cortauña (and expanded vocabulary: uña-fingernail, cortauña-fingernail clippers) and was able to cut my nails that afternoon, but began to realize that there are many things we do on a day-to-day basis that are never covered in language classes.

Another topic of concern for anyone moving to a foreign country that is never covered in class is the problem/adventure of getting a haircut.  Let's face it, if you are unable to effectively communicate how you want your hair cut to the barber or stylist, you are stuck with it for at least a few weeks, making it a much more serious problem than having long fingernails.  You can't exactly stick your hair in your pocket to keep it from view (and if you can, then you've either gone too long without a haircut in your new country, which again illustrates the communication problem, or you're just gross and I don't want to see pictures of you).

Now I've gotten three haircuts in Japan and each time it has been somewhat of an experience.  I know enough Japanese now that I can circumlocute more or less how I want my hair to look.  I can tell them that I only need a haircut (カットだけ) and that I'd like it to be short (ショット).  And granted, it's difficult to screw up a crew cut, but in the event that they do, I can always instruct them 'もすこし' and thereby fix the problem.  However, during my haircut over the weekend, I discovered the limits of my Japanese, at least when it relates to my personal grooming.

You see, in Japan, it turns out that they really don't like hair on the face and body, even if it is just light peach fuzz.  Being a hairy dude with thick stubble and light peach fuzz on most of my face, you can imagine what the barbers think of me.  I generally try to keep my stubble groomed and always tell the barber to ignore it, but I'd never really paid much attention to the peach fuzz.  Right up until the woman who cut my hair on Sunday decided to shave it off of my ears with a straight razor.  That's right, she actually shaved my ears.  With a straight razor.  Lobes and the tops.  And hopefully now this somewhat rambling post is coming together.  You see, I wish that I had known that this was a customary practice, or that I had learned enough Japanese to prevent her from shaving my ears, or that I had been able to ask exactly what the haircut entailed.  Now I don't look ridiculous and you wouldn't even know that my ears had been shaved if you were to look at me (even closely).  But it's just the point of it and not being able to do little things like get a haircut without being surprised or having communication problems.  But then again, maybe that's the real benefit of travel.  And after all, I've gotten a whole post out of this very amusing story.