After half a year I mustered the courage to go to a local salon. I chose an international chain at the suggestion of a friend, since the professionals would likely have more experience.
My arrival cause reception to be a bit anxious since they didn't speak English. At the time, off peak hours, one (brave or stupid?) hairdresser stepped forward from the depths of the open-plan salon. I asked for a quick consultation before his shears worked their magic (or potential horror).
Over the next 90 minutes Muslum took good care of me. Apprentices typically wash clients' hair but my new confidant took this duty upon himself. We briefly exchanged small talk. Both of us felt limited by language itself. However he sensed my efforts to trust him. Every so often I let slip a look of delight rather than the sheer euphoria I felt inside! I learned his career began 14 years ago. I guess he's about age 30. He takes great pride in his craft. :) Score! He did not use a razor to achieve the aesthetic results -- a whispy texture -- I wanted. Also I got to hear US country music during the appointment.
He told me how much he enjoys his job. He also bears the responsibility of training the apprentices. In the US stylists have hair dryer stands. Here, apprentices keep their arms limber as kuaforlar direct them. (All apprentices are not created equal.) read more
