Emily sat on the bench crying, her eyes stinging. I wanted to feel badly for her – but it
was no one's fault but her own. It started with a simple question.
"You want oil massage?"
"Okay, oil massage!"
Emily couldn't resist. Of course, under the circumstances resistance would have been
the smart thing. We were in a men's barber shop where I was getting shaved and
cleaned-up. If the guys in there had ever worked on a woman, it was at least five years
ago. Only men came to the shop, only men worked there. I don't know why Emily sat
there and watched instead of walking down the block shopping.
But there she was. So was one of the barbers who had nothing to do. He looked at
Emily and saw opportunity.
"You want facial?" (They do men's facials there)
"No, facial. Thank you." she was smart enough to say.
"You want facial? Come on, facial…"
"No. No facial, thank you."
"How about facial? You want facial?"
"No. No facial."
And that's when he struck gold with his oil massage idea.
Emily can't turn down a massage. When I got a haircut in Kathmandu she followed
along for the first time and got a head and neck massage while I was being shaved.
I suspect that may have been why she hung out in the shop and why she so happily
acquiesced.
The man had her sit in his barber chair where he poured a strong herbal oil on the front
of her head. He began pounding her head and neck with his hands. She looked like she
was being jackhammered. Then came the electric vibrating back massager – which he
used on her head and neck.
I watched fascinated while my barber shaved my face. Emily seemed fine – she didn't
say anything. After five minutes, her barber turned off the vibrating device and went
back to pummeling her shoulders, neck and back.
I looked over at her and tried to suppress my laughter. She caught my glance and
began to laugh between the pummels.
Finally, it was time to wash the oil out of her hair. The barber had Emily face the sink
and lean her head forward while he washed her hair – the back of her hair, leaving the
front with the greatest concentration of oil untouched. Then he went to dry her with the
towel used on other people – with their hair trimmings still on the towel.
The "herbal" oil used is probably illegal in most countries or at least not FDA approved.
The strong, powerful stinging vapors left Emily tearing.
Of course, her hair was now a damp, oiled mess and the back of her shirt soaked as he
used no apron, smock or towel to protect against spraying water. The barber wanted
to comb out her mangled hair. Only when he reached for the comb still bearing other
customers' hair, Emily called a halt to it.
Massage time was over and Emily went back to the waiting bench where her eyes
watered massage oil fume induced tears.
When I finished, they offered me the oil massage as well. I considered it because it
really was meant for a guy who had just had a haircut or shave as sort of an "after
shave" treatment. It would have made my skin tingle and been completely washed off
as soon as it was done.
But they were out of oil after pouring half a bottle into Emily's hair. I figured it was just as
well. For the two of us, we paid 130 rupees, approximately $2.90. It was over.
I walked away pleased with a very good shave and haircut done with a good set of
powerful clippers. It was the best value on a haircut yet.
Emily couldn't wait to jump in an auto-rickshaw and get back to our bungalow to shower
– fumes still in her eyes. Her hair smelled like a bottle of Vick's erupted in it.
On the ride back, I asked her what she was thinking. I attempted to shame her . I hoped
she would take a lesson.
She wasn't having any of it. Emily felt it was an experience she was glad to have had. It
was an experiment that didn't work out exactly as planned – but a memory she will keep.
It took three shampooings for her to feel okay and she still says it smells a little like the
oil. I don't smell it. It might be deep in her hair or just a post-traumatic stress reaction.
No one will ever really know.
All I can say is – ladies, stay out of men's barber shops in India. But if you do go in and
someone offers you a massage, please – just say no.
