November 19, 2006
Shorn
Jacob hasn't been too keen on having his hair cut of late. This has led to the invention of a game called comb-and-scissors-chasey and haircuts like this. Works of art in themselves to be sure but not always terribly practical.
So this year's award for patience, persistence, and perseverance in the face of grave personal danger has to go to Nabil the Barber, in Lygon St. Nabil hails from Syria and has limited english and even fewer customers and so it was that I selected him for this special assignment, as someone who might have the time to indulge the whims of a three year old. Poor Nabil did an excellent job; for his eight dollars he endured Jacobs contortions, a haircut that took almost an hour, having to give Mama a trim to prove it wouldn't hurt, and being stabbed in the palm of the hand with his own scissors.
There are those who complain constantly about immigrants to this country but Nabil is wounded-proof that most of them are willing to put up with far more than the average Australian in order to make a go of things. The mettle of the man reminded me of nothing more than the old-school shearers whose hard-yakka battler mentality is supposed to encapsulate so much that is 'Australian'.
The suprise bonus at the end of it all is the gentle waft of patchouli everytime I ruffled Jacob's hair for the next few days. Poor Nabil, looks like we'll be returning!
Posted by Faith