Berlin: a cut above the rest
WELCOMING: THE PEOPLE OF THE CITY ARE DELIGHTED TO HOST TOURISTS
A simple visit to the barber ended up being an entire day.
Travel apps: they do not always work as well as advertised. What should have been a simple visit to the barber ended up being an entire day and night out in Germany’s Berlin.
As a regular traveller, I feel done in for not being told. You know exactly what I am referring to when it comes to those praised travel apps, particularly those that claim to assist with translating any language into English.
On a recent trip to Berlin I found myself in desperate need of a haircut and a shave, all because I had underestimated just how quickly my head and facial locks grow in a few days. Not being a German native, I decided to download Google Translate onto my phone. Mistake number one.
I have always regarded my grooming sessions at my barber to be a bit of a treat, as it is “me” time and I get pampered, very much like when ladies go to a spa to relax. I have used the same barber for years and by now he knows exactly how I like my treatment: as close as possible to a “chiskop”, without it being a “chiskop”.
Then I also love a clean shaven face, not leaving a single strand of hair. Now try punching that into any app and you are guaranteed digital anarchy.
Depending on where you are in vast Germany, the word for haircut can be slightly different, and in Berlin, it is haarschnitt, but I used the incorrect word thanks to my app, and I ended up asking for a frisur, which is the word for a hairstyle.
Because the Germans are such huge soccer fans, as soon as my barber in the city centre heard that, he must have immediately conjured up ideas of radical styles spotted by the likes of black players, like Didier Drogba’s ridiculous straight perm, but luckily my hair was a bit too short for that.
Then he said something about Côte d’Ivoire and I assumed he was asking if I wanted to dye the top part of my hair blonde and leave the rest short cropped. “Nein
danke” was my swift response. This was the point when I had a Eureka moment and I thought back to my childhood when all anyone had to do to be considered cool was to ask the barber for a “German” cut. Apparently the Germans have no idea what this entails.
Even after that I still had faith in Google and switched to Google Talk chat bots, which allows you to type any text and have it instantly translated into a language of your choice. The great thing about this is that it offers an audio option, which speaks for you.
I felt like myself and the barber were stuck in a war where one party was not willing to relinquish power to the other, as I would ask one question, which would be followed by one of his own.
I asked if he had hair food – a readily available gel in all black South African salons and barber shops that helps keep hair dandruff-free – and he asked what kind of hair needed to eat?
Just as I had enough of all Google apps, I scoured my phone for photos of what I look like without hair, to show the barber, and just as I found the perfect photo, my battery died.
Needless to say, I spent the rest of my trip looking a tad on the scruffy side, but my official version to those who asked was that I was experimenting with the “just got out of bed” look to see if it suits me.
Luckily for me, Berlin is a city full of eclectic individuals, no matter where you are, or what you are doing. I braved the city’s Neukölln area with my unintentional dreadlocks and this scored me a free drink at Alagami Restaurant, an establishment where patrons are served food by migrants from places like north Africa, Syria, Lebanon and others.
After my hair gave away my African origins, I was asked by the waiters if I wanted to sample Algerian food, but instead I raised a few eyebrows by trying saffron chicken pilaf (a Middle Eastern dish consisting of sautéed, seasoned rice steamed in bouillon) with a side dish of hummus, all washed down with a rich yoghurt drink called labnah.
This gave me enough confidence to know that Berliners do not judge those who choose to be tourists in their city. Instead, they embrace you.
This was once again confirmed when I gallery hopped in pursuit of hair-inspired exhibitions. Very much like the rejuvenation of inner Joburg and Cape Town’s city bowl, art practitioners in Berlin took over empty warehouses, abandoned factories and under-utilised apartments and even old office blocks to turn them into galleries such Buchmann, Guido W Baudach and Galerie Neu.
Even though I failed to locate an exhibition that was inspired by hair, I succeeded in proving that Berlin welcomes everyone, no matter what you look like.
From its many bookshops, impressive theatres such as the Renaissance Theater, overwhelming nightclubs and various parks and churches, this is a city that is as contemporary as it gets. Luckily for me, that means they are open to any and all haircuts.