Road to Rwanda----Hair Salons

 I just came home from my weekly hair appointment.  The price is $3 USD for a wash, set, dry, comb out.   It takes about 2 hours, and I sit and enjoy my Kindle while I wait.  I usually leave $5, which is a huge tip relatively, but  it seems so little, and the gentlemen appreciae it very much.  Because of the bad arthritis in my shoulders it is hard for me to get my arms above my head any more to wash my hair and I have no seemingly good options to set it, etc.  It is a relaxing time and a cheap way to sit still for a while and also be a slight part of the community.  

The hair salon (which might be a euphemism) is just around the corner from our apartment. In some ways one might consider it a "hole in the wall".  It is one room with about 10 older chairs in it.  There is a corner of the room blocked off with a head level plywood wall around a sink to wash your hair. There is no hot water, so the water is heated over a propane burner after one has arrived, which adds 10-20 minutes onto the visit.  A nice lady  owns the salon. We always sit and have a short visit when she is there. She seems to be the only woman and best English-speaker involved and I have really never seen her touch anyone's hair. There are 5 or 6 men employed by her to do hair and  nails.  (I see a few other ladies at times doing nails or special braids, but it is nearly always the men.) Some of them are older almost scruffy looking men in baseball caps, and some are much younger.  Some speak a little English. Many don't seem to know much English at all.  At least 4 different men have done my hair.  It is a first come, first serve basis, so one never knows, but they have all been nice and competent.

Today when I arrived only one younger man was there, not even any other customers, which sometimes happens, but in my 2 hours there often there might be 15 people in and out.  He was fixing some braids ready to be used at some point in people's hair.  So I pulled out my old, old picture of my family from 1992 and showed him the girls' hair and told him I could do extensions. His English is halting and we have only said a few words to each other at any time.  I do not know if he understood the reason I was showing him the picture and telling him about doing the extensions for my girls' hair.  He looked at the picture for a while and then asked, "Do they love the Bible?"  I have tears in my eyes writing this.  The first question when shown a picture of my family from this very young Rwandan man in a hair salon is about the spiritual welfare of my family.  Do you wonder why I revel in the blessings from God that He has given us the privilege to live in this country?

P.S.  Rick and I are still taking it easy with what we are eating.  (How come Rick loses 10 pounds and I lose 2 when we are sick?)  But overall we are fine.  Tomorrow (Sunday afternoon) we will wait again to see if Rick can get an appointment to have an endoscopy to work on his esophagus, but he is definitely vastly improved.