This week’s column was published here, and is posted below. Caveat: It covers a lot (but not all) of the same ground as my ealier post about my hair. (Aside: I did in fact remove my braids the night the article came out. In all I counted more than 70 braids, and wound up with a huge pile of fake hair, pictured right.) The column:
I first cut my hair when I was 14 years old. Before I cut it, it reached past my waist. For a few years it hovered between my chin and my shoulders, but eventually I let it reach its previous length. Then, four years ago, I cut off 14 inches. It was the fastest diet I’ve ever heard of: I lost five pounds in less than 30 seconds. Since that time I’ve kept my hair quite short, and have never really been able to understand how my younger self put up with such a huge weight hanging from the top of her head.
Before coming to Ghana, I had my hairdresser at home cut my hair the shortest it has ever been. It had taken me a long time to find someone who cut it the way I liked it, so I had decided not to bother doing the search all over again in Ghana. I figured by the time I found someone, it would be time to go home. Despite my addiction to short hair, I would let mine grow while in Africa.
And grow it has! I’ve heard that hair and fingernails grow faster in warmer temperatures, and that has certainly been my experience, here and in other tropical travels. A couple of weeks ago I started finding my expanding mane uncomfortable in the heat. One of my Canadian friends here had had cornrow braids put in her hair, and mentioned how nice and cool the breeze felt on her exposed scalp. I decided I would give the braids a try myself.
I asked a couple of my Ghanaian coworkers whose hair is braided where they went to get their hair done. For the most part they laughed at the thought of me with braids in my hair, but then they all gave me recommendations. One of them lives in my neighbourhood, and suggested a hairdresser just around the corner from my house. A week and a half ago I made an appointment, and arrived bright and early the next morning for my transformation.
It took 5 hours. Because my hair doesn’t have the same texture as African hair, the hairdresser had to figure out new ways to get it to stay put while she worked. And though it’s short, I have quite a lot of hair, which I’m sure didn’t help. Luckily, the Nigeria-Haiti game in the U17 World Cup was on, so we could distract ourselves from the long process by watching the match. Nonetheless, I think we were both relieved when she finished.
Like most first time braid-ees, my first impression of my new hairdo was that it hurt. A lot. I’m afraid I was pretty cranky that evening. By the next morning the pain in my scalp had subsided, though it itches a little bit to this day. It took me a while to get used to my new appearance, but after two days I knew I liked it.
I was very curious to see how Ghanaians would react to my new hairstyle. I wondered if people would like it, or if they would see me as living out a stereotype of white women who come to Africa and try to fit in by adopting local styles. The reaction, though, has been overwhelmingly positive. Not only my Ghanaian friends, colleagues, and neighbours, but strangers on the street have told me how much they like it. My coworkers who had initially found humour in the idea all have told me they think the braids suit me. The day I got it done, I was riding in a trotro to Kaneshie to visit a friend, and a woman driving another vehicle called out her window that she liked my hair. I answered that I liked her dress (I did). If there are people who think my braided hair is inappropriate, none of them have said it to my face. They probably wouldn`t though. Too bad. If they’re out there, I’d like to know their thoughts.
I had been worried that adopting a local hairstyle might make me seem too desperate to belong, in this place where I always feel welcome, but am always conspicuously from away. My discovery, though, is that Ghanaians seem to interpret my new hairstyle as demonstrating a connection to Ghana, not my distance from it. I may have put braids in my hair to keep my scalp cool, but they do seem to have made me a bit more Ghanaian.
But only a bit more. My hairdresser told me I ought to be able to keep the braids in for at least three weeks. Because my hair wasnt yet very long (my braids are almost entirely made of hair extensions), and its texture is still different from African hair, my hairstyle has started to disintegrate, only a week and a half after my five hour stint at the salon. Two of my braids have fallen out, and a fuzzy halo of short hairs has begun to emerge from the braids all over my head. I’ll be lucky if they stay in for two weeks, forget three. And I don’t think I’m up for another five-hour chair stint just yet. Maybe next month.
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