Hairy sharing is caring

16 June 2014




[earlier story inspired this one.]


My natural locks are okay when I come out of a pool, scrunch a bit, and air-dry in the sun.  Which is different than air-drying after a shower, because somehow bugs and grime make natural, pretty waves and cleanliness makes horrifying ones.

And, add even one flick of humidity, and suddenly a lion's mane erupts and I am now in a genetic, self-made witness protection program.  And all I can do is scream I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING, while my hair takes over the whole Earth.

I'm not kidding.

When I was at the passport gate in India, trying to head back to the States, the Indian woman refused to let me enter because she firmly believed I was offering her a stolen passport.  No lady, that is me.  

"Ma'am, this is not you.  Cannot let you enter.  Must have your correct passport."

That's all I got.  That IS me.

And we went back and forth.  She shook her head.  And I begged and pleaded, which because of my severe exhaustion, was really just fatigued puffs of air.  Life is too tiring so you really have to pick your battles, ya know?  Needing to get into my homecountry....  Not that important.

Finally, I smiled.  Because it was funny.

"OOOoooh ma'am.  This is you.  I see it now."

Then she slid my passport back through the window and pushed some magic button that let me pass.  Kelli had been waiting on the other side of the gate for the last 25 minutes, laughing.

"Really?  Do I really look THAT unrecognizable that my smile is all I got?"

Then we proceeded to walk through the terminals, and as we passed a reflective glass wall, I jumped.  Literally.

here.

I guess after spending a week working in an orphanage in a humid 3rd world country, what was I really expecting to look like?  A runway model?

My hair had expanded into a voluminous frizzy mess, after being braided and brushed and re-braided by hundreds of little girl hands.  Not to mention my hair was flashing and dripping with gallons of body glitter.  Because Kelli bought some from a beggar on the ghat in Varanasi and gave it to the girls at the orphanage.  And somehow that was dumped all over me.  And also toenail polish, that I also gave them control over, which is still all over my flip-flops to this day, and probably still streaked through some part of my hair.  And we're not even going to talk about my face or my clothes or what I smelled like, because after three weeks in India, I'm not sure people would want to know.

The same thing happened after three weeks in the Philippines, which is comparably humid.  I wasn't clobbered by an entire orphanage with every rainbow streaming thing, but I DID live on a completely destroyed island for half a week, sleeping in dirt puddles and puking off the side of a storm-raging boat.  So, needless to say, when mine and Mace's flight landed back in Seattle, I went to the bathroom to run some water through my hair.  First hugging the God-blessed pipes that so freely bring water to us at whatever temperature we desire.  Then I came out of the bathroom, and I saw Mace's face freeze in shock for a moment.  Yes, I can look like NOT a wild animal.  You had forgotten, hadn't you?

So, basically, I'm not really sure if I should tell a serious suitor this problem before or after some precious metal exchanges.  I think I should probably just suggest we go to some exotic island for our honeymoon.  And then I'll hover quietly over him the first morning with a Polaroid camera.

On that note, I'm leaving for Africa in two mornings to work in another orphanage, teach a class of kindergarten girls at a local school, and build water lines to village homesteads.  (#currentpackinghatred)

If I even slightly open my can of excitement right now, everyone in the entire world will die of overstimulation.  And who knows WHAT that will do to my hair.  But I can't wait to tell all of you my adventures when I return.  And hide a kidnapped giraffe under my bed.  I LOVE GIRAFFES!!

Also, if you have a food storage room that needs organized, save it for me!  (Amy, that's you.  One of my best memories). 

On that note, Sala kahle!  :D  :D  :D  :D   

Off to go buy some more hair detangler.  Because...  yeah.

Upward and onward,








My natural locks on a really good day.  (Obviously no pictures of my true humid hair, because a zombie apocalypse is coming so I need to keep some friends for protection...)



First Image Source
Second Image Source

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