A new haircut for my travels

BEFORE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . AFTER

This is my materpiece. A razor, a mirror, and a quick check with my guard Emmanuel to make sure I didn't miss any spots. Well, you have to admit, the hair is a bit wild in the "before" picture. It has been two months since I left the US and had a "real" haircut. This one is just a razor to the head, and although I could find a "real" one in N'Djamena (somewhere, though I don't know where) - well, it's just easier with the razor to do it myself, at home, and on my own time. Besides, it is too hot for a real haircut - the high today was 103 degrees F.

The real reason for the haircut, besides trying to ditch the hair-out-of-control image, is to feel and look good for my vacation. Well, as good as I can look anyway! I think I look better in real life - I am not a fashion model, and taking a self portrait with your telephone certainly doesn't make it to GQ magazine. Might help if I put on a shirt, I suppose.

Ah yes, enough about my head - talking about my vacation. I am travelling on Monday to Dakar for a week's "rest and relaxation." WFP gives me one week every two months just to attain this result. I will take most of the day to get there, and it will take two days to get back. Here is my travel plan (travel routes in purple and red, click for a clearer image):

I am going primarily to see some Senegalese friends, some American friends working in Dakar, and some other friends who work with WFP who happen to be coming to town for a conference this week. And of course, I will be seeing Fatim (see previous blog entries). Hopefully I will get some good stories to share - see you in a few weeks!

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In response to my last blog entry, my friend April wrote to me to remind me of her piece on Guinea regarding "gris-gris" (pronounced gree-gree), or those magic amulets that I discussed in my last entry. I was present for most of these stories (she was "informed in part by my experiences and research," she says).

Rereading her piece, I was reminded of the story of my roommate Michel. I was away when Michel fell sick, but returned to see him answer the door to our apartment in a very poor condition just before being medically evacuated to France. Once in Paris, he was admitted immediately to the hospital. The doctors found nothing wrong with him, released him, and he fell sick again. What April says is absolutely true, that I called her concerned that the doctors could find nothing, imagining that somehow some African witchcraft had been released to raise havoc on my friend. Well, not to give away the end of the story, I leave you to read April's story called "Gris-Gris-ed."

http://www.aprilwrites.com/travels/grisgris.html