Today I got a haircut. Big deal you say. Yes, it shows how nothing is simple and easy on a small island. To start with I went by the barbershop on Tuesday morning before noon and no one was there--there have never been any signs--nor was the barber in his usual coffee shop. So I wait for the next trip into town. Maybe he was gone a few days because today I was 3rd in line.

This is my third barber in the six years that I have been coming here (not counting a couple tries at hairdressers where they charge stylist prices for mediocre cuts). He is finally learning how I like my hair. Of course, it is complicated by the fact that he is deaf and mute. Although given my command of Greek that is a minor difference in communication.

I have a history of miscommunication with barbers here. No matter what I indicated they would cut my hair too short. So I had a friend write a note in Greek to just take a little hair off; the barber read it as just leave a little, I guess. So when another friend recommended the deaf guy I had him write a new note since I figured this barber would be better at following written instruction. Nope, same result.

So I don't bother getting a haircut very often and alternate between the shaggy look (Irish) and the shaved look (German). Though one benefit of the deaf barber is that I don't need to bother with small talk or listen to his view of American politics like most other barbers. There are always trade-offs in island life, you see.

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