Hair Today...

The postings on this site are my own and don’t necessarily represent IBM’s positions, strategies or opinions.

Bald Truth

Recently, a dear friend of mine shaved her head on her 50th birthday. She has a partner of more than half a decade, two young children, a house in the suburbs and a corporate job, though she does work at home. Oh, and she's a regular, mainstream churchgoer.

I'd love to have dramatically less hair than I do right now.

"I see what you mean about the 'v's," Pat said to me two nights ago, looking over at a table, where a short-haired woman was sitting with her apparent family.

There has not yet been a short-haired woman in India whose side-locks weren't shaped into a "v." I figure that my side-locks' fate is about to be similar. It's finally time for a haircut, which will happen this weekend.

Relative to most others in India, my hair's practically blond; in fact, it's dark-brown with chlorine highlights and two-three gray strands that are visible before I pluck them out periodically.

Tension-free Living

Yesterday, I copied down the slogan of a billboard we pass daily on my commute home: "Aviva Life Insurance: Live tension-free. Live Life kul ke. SMS 'Aviva.'"

I don't yet know what "kul ke" means, but it sounds like "cool" and "calm- hey" to me. The term, "tension-free," came to me while showering this morning. Pat and I didn't realize that the bathroom-wall switch that looks like a night-light needs to be on for the water to be warm.

My whole body was clenched under the chilly spray and I thought, there's nothing more tension-producing than this cold shower. "Kul ke" was my fondest wish.

A Bizarre Message

And then on the way to work, there was a teenager, standing at the light to cross the street with her friends, all of whom seemed on their way to school; she was wearing a pink shirt on which was printed in large, white font: "Peekaboo Pole Icon." I read the message twice to be sure I was reading correctly.

Who would design such a shirt? Who would invent such a message? Does she know what it means? Why am I staring?

The Woman in Me

I've noticed a trend -- no longer a fluke, since it's happening this time, too. When I lived in Israel, in Jerusalem for a year at 20, I felt, and looked, more determinately female than in the States. I had my ears pierced at the shuk, though I had never before hankered after earrings.

The same thing is happening here. Yes, I'm trying to meet society half-way by wearing open-toed mules (just twice so far) and flowing salwar kameezes, but I actually do feel more feminine here. I felt that way in Israel, too. I wonder if travel abroad brings out the classic woman in me.

The day we moved here, over the weekend, a great store called "pinkk" came to sell clothing out of the clubhouse boardroom and I bought a number of vivid Indian outfits. The seller recommended that I try them on in the nearby ladies room. I had a big pile in my arms and she remarked, "Women are the same everywhere."

In the bathroom, I neglected to lock it and a group of girls came running in to check out the temporary tattoo that had just been affixed to one of their faces. After them, a woman came in while I was nearly topless and said, "I'm not looking at you. Don't worry."

"I'm not," I said, pulling the dark-and-light-raspberry-flower-printed and forest-green-embroidered, cotton blouse over my head. She looked at my pile, smiling, and for the second time in 10 minutes, I heard, "Women are the same all over."

I was in a sudden sorority of clothing enthusiasts. We introduced ourselves. She was petite and Indian and trying on stuff that differed from mine. I felt suddenly giant and garish, but also daring, with a flair. She's so many houses from the grocery store, she told me, and welcomed me to the neighborhood, even just for six months.

Meanwhile, Pat was waiting in the foyer for me to come out and make my purchases, so we wouldn't be late for the key pass-off from the owner of the villa.

We were nearly 10 minutes late.