Devachan

I am sick. Sickety sick sick. Technically it's a cold, but I'm not sure this isn't some deadly mutant strain of influenza-cholera-tuberculosis.

Somehow I got myself together this morning and went to get my hair cut at curly hair salon Devachan. That's right, curly hair only. When I booked the appointment they asked for the curliness level of my tresses, and I found myself disappointingly admitting that they are merely wavy curly and not tight ringlets. So down from SOHA to SOHO I went. Once I got in they gave me a mini silky kimono to put on in exchange for my shirt and jacket. Looking around at the range of women who were there, I have to say the kimono was a flattering choice for all. I was also pretty astonished by the diversity of curl and styles. I was downright jealous of a number of women with hair that seemed straight out of a romance novel (if only they were in the arms of Fabio... the model not the security guard at my high school). While waiting to start my cut Roman came over and brought me some tea, which I desperately needed.

The came Kiyoko, my hair stylist. She directed me back to a chair that faced a mirror embedded in frosted glass that changed colors. She asked me a few questions about what I wanted (shorter, cute, no bangs or crazy-short layers) and she did a dry cut. She separated each curl into its curl family and then gave each a little snip. We talked about travel, mostly Israel and Japan (where she's from) and the Israeli campaign to get Japanese tourists. After the long cut was over, she took me to Arturo for my hair washing. Rather than sit in a chair that awkwardly leaned back, there hair washing stations each had a black bed with a special raised leg rest. Incredibly comfortable. For simulated privacy there were mosquito nets that wrapped around each bed. While massaging (and I truly mean massaging) No-Poo into my scalp, Arturo explained the evils of normal shampoos and the beauty of the Devachan cleansing system. The pungent smells, tingly feeling, and deep message all together hypnotized me and I knew I had to have all their products. He left a bit of conditioner in my hair and then walked me back to Kiyoko and fresh hot tea.

Kiyoko had me lean over as she scrunched my hair with paper towels (regular towels promote frizz) but as a Peace Educator who must have some concern for the environment, I'm not sure I can commit to that step daily. She then put a healthy amount of gel on her palms and tapped it into my hair before scrunching from the tips to the roots. This entire time she's teaching me about the process and telling me the salon's philosophy. I have to say, as far as theoretical approaches, Devachon's seem as strong as those of International Education Development I'm getting at school. After continuing scrunching in a number of positions, Kiyoko pinned up a few of the top strands to hide my natural part, and tossed me under a dryer. She dropped of the salon's book "Curly Girl" and a fresh cup of tea. Quite a bit later she came back and unpinned me and had me shake out my hair. She topped it off with a few last cuts. I had curls I hadn't seen before, but sadly it was a windy day and the faded pretty fast. I did get to share them with Shira over a late lunch at Aroma (oh Aroma) before I had to run to Peace Ed.

Not too shabby for a sick day.