Kiss Kess and First Choice Barbering Shop

As we are all becoming variations on the theme of The Shaggy Dog, we decided it was time to put our hair into the hands of a local coiffeur (et coiffeuse?), so that people may once again see our eyes. Bronte is already something of a seasoned veteran as she had gone previously to have her hair braided. Unfortunately, they didn't use elastics and her braids fell out a very short while after she got them. For our second attempt, we went back to the same place, the Kiss Kess Beauty Salon, that happens to be a comb's throw from our house. As you can deduce from the suppressed giggle and look of pride, it was a success!

The price for braiding, was a very reasonable 3 Ghana cedis, so I expect we'll be doing it again, especially since the girls have to have their hair tied back for school. This, coupled with the harsh truth that hair-brushing is not one of our favourite morning rituals (visions of Maisy from Uncle Buck leap to mind). The event consumed the better part of an hour on a lazy Saturday morning, but you won't hear me complain as I was happily slouched into a cozy chair in the air-conditioned salon, chewing my way through the rather excellent DeNiro's Game by Rawi Hage. After we returned home, it was now time for Cohen and I to seek out a barber, as Kiss Kess doesn't cut for men.

After driving around for a while and passing dozens of barbers that were too busy, we stumbled on the above shop, a tidy and quiet place down a side street in th Manet Cottage area. There are hundreds of barbers and hairdressers in the city and (not surprisingly) very few of them have any experience cutting obruni hair. This became evident in the degree to which the barber's hand shook as he steered the clippers over our shining white heads. There was a rather comedic moment after I sat down where he motioned to a poster of dozens of African men's haircuts so that I could choose one. Lucky for me (and for him), all I wanted was the #1 guard head shave. All Cohen needed was the #2 guard but that was lost in translation, at least at first. When the barber stopped to reveal Cohen's cut and get my approval, Cohen looked like a cross between a punk-rocker, a recovering brain surgery patient, and a Hasidic Jew. I saved him the indignity of snapping a picture at that moment.

We could pay more and go to higher end salons in Osu, in the diplomatic areas, in a resort, or in the mall, but we are cheap and head shaving is head shaving, wherever you live. I think Carmilla will have to splash out a few more cedis as the head shave is not really this season's look for women in Ghana. Cohen's haircut and mine cost a whole 2 Ghana cedis (yup, that's about two bucks) and judging by the way the price was suggested, I was expected to negotiate. I didn't barter, although it was tempting to have real-life grounds for singing "Shave and a haircut, two bits!" I will leave you with an excellent snap, taken by my excellent son Cohen, with his new birthday camera.