Cross-cultural communication （82）　

82) Adventures in barber shops
This time I would like to write about my memories of barber shops, TOKOYA (in Kansai, they are called “haircut shops”, SAMPATSUYA) in New York, where I lived for three years, and in Paris, where I lived for two and a half years.

The first place I lived overseas was a small fishing port called Sheepshead Bay in Brooklyn, New York. The owner of the barber shop there was a middle-aged man who had immigrated from Armenia. He was a jolly, talkative guy (this seems to be a universal trait of male barbers). He laughed and said, “For uneducated people like us, the barber business doesn't require much capital investment, so it's perfect for working in a foreign country.” His English was broken to the extent that he could just about understand it, but my English wasn't something I could be proud of either, so I think it was the perfect place for my first barber shop overseas.

After living in Brooklyn for a year, I moved to Greenwich Village, which is located at the southern tip of Manhattan. The Village is a fashionable area, and when I went into the barbershop, unlike in Brooklyn, there were four or five barbers, and there were also several women. I went several times and had my hair cut once a month by a rather beautiful white woman in her thirties. The difference between male and female barbers is that the women don't seem to talk much about everyday things. They are more interested in their customers' personal lives. They asked me quite specific personal questions, such as what I did for a living, whether I was married or single, and what I did on my days off. Well, I had also become used to life in New York by this time, so I responded in a game-like manner, mixing in some “white lies” as I saw fit. In Manhattan, it was customary to give a small tip to your favorite barber. Of course, there was nothing romantic about my adventures with the beautiful hairdressers. At that time (and perhaps even now), couples consisting of a white woman and a non-white man were still considered a “taboo”.

Unlike my time as a resident doctor in New York, my time in Paris was when I was approaching middle age in my 40s. In Paris, I was also running a practice in the outpatient department of a famous hospital that was visited by diplomats and company employees, so I was quite particular about my personal appearance, including my hair. So I chose a barber's shop that looked quite luxurious, not far from my apartment in the 17th arrondissement near the Arc de Triomphe. There were several barbers, all of them beautiful women. So I didn't have any particular preference, and I just let the women do my hair as they came along. Unlike in New York, the female barbers in Paris were quite cool, and they didn't ask for any personal information, just answering my questions and requests for how I wanted my hair cut. Well, it was partly because my French wasn't very good...

I didn't tip because I didn't get to choose the barber. Sometimes, a good-looking man in his thirties who looked like the owner of the shop would come to visit. Then, the most beautiful woman (in my opinion) of the female barbers would sit him down in the barber's chair and wash his hair while he was sitting in a reclining position. Afterwards, while drying his hair, they exchanged a few words, and then he left the shop with the lady who had washed his hair. It was like watching a scene from a French movie.

I have introduced the situation of barbershops in Paris and New York (Brooklyn and Manhattan). I thought that the situation of barbershops is a concrete example of the everyday lives of ordinary people in that country, and so it would be a good opportunity to observe one aspect of a different culture, so I have written a rather long article.

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