It's going to be a bad hair...year
December 16, 2004
So...since the most eventful thing that has happened to me in the past two days is getting a haircut, I'm going to talk about that. Pictures will come sometime this weekend, I promise!
Let's see...for the past few months (and as stated manyt times before here) I've allowed myself to grow into a frizzy-haired, bushy eye-browed beast. The importance of not being a frizzy-haired, bushy eye-browed beast only made itself clear to me after moving back to Cairo, the land of perpetually well-groomed young ladies. Anyway, the past month I promised myself that once done with the masters I would get the eyebrows plucked, and the hair cut. I �carefully� selected the hairdresser (they are right across the street from where I live) and last night I waltzed in and told the "beautician" that I wanted some layers added to my hair but she was UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES to cut the hair directly surrounding my face short, and I didn't want an overall shorter cut. More just like a trim, with layers.
What is it about hairdressers that makes them so contrary? I literally at one point pulled my hair away from her, telling her, "No! Don't cut that." She just nodded her head, said, "I'm just going to trim the ends off here," grabbed the chunk of hair again and snipped AN INCH OFF. This chunk of hair, of course, being a part that directly surrounds my face. My hair is straight now, but when I wash it and it curls up I'm going to have Shirley Temple bangs. Grr. GRRRRR.
The issue, of course, is not the haircut itself. I have managed to retain much of the "alternative" looks-are-not-everything earnest attitude of the early/mid-nineties, and I'll get over the fact that my hair is going to look like butt for the next five months as it slowly, slowly grows from a short, bouffant frizz, back into a long, drab frizz. No, I have managed to blow this whole episode up into a much bigger commentary on the state of creativity and understanding in Egypt specifically, and, no doubt, the Arab world in general.(Forgive me, it's that time of month.)
In my mind, what happened is representative of the lack of creativity and inability to listen to others that is endemic in Egyptian society. (Yes, I am absolutely making a bigger deal out of this than it merits.) The hairdresser just gave me the haircut that is very popular among young women in Cairo these days, not taking into account that unlike a lot of Egyptian girls I do not have straight hair or I don�t (can�t be bothered to) blow-dry my hair straight every day. There was no artistry or thought put into what she did. She did not seem to consider how best to take into account how the hair should frame my face. And, fine, she�s not creative or artistic? Then she should have listened to me when I desperately told her (at least five times) that short, curly hair does not suit my face.
I see this problem everywhere. My family had the bedroom furniture in our apartment made by one of the �best...furniture makers (is there another word for that?) in Cairo. No one does Louis Quinze furniture better. Unfortunately, Louis Quinze furniture makes me vomit on sight. I am a bit of a modernist when it comes to art and design. I showed the furniture-makers furniture out of a Roche Bobois (basically an upscale, French version of IKEA) catalogue and they looked at me like I was nuts. They pleaded with my mother, "We can�t do that. Why doesn�t she let us just put some fluting on the closet doors? Or how about some inlaid flowers or carvings on the bed?" We went through this tug-of-war, and in the end nobody really won. I was not yet living in Cairo at that time so I wasn�t always around to supervise the furniture-making. Guess what? There are inlaid flowers on my bedroom mirror, and there is ugly fluting on my bookshelves. And there are ornate bronze handles on my closet doors. *Shudder*. The furniture-makers? Have asked my mother not to tell anyone that they made my room, because it�s still too modern for their taste. Bad advertising and all that. I realize that the style of furniture they specialize in is very complex and ornate, but if it's the only thing that you CAN do, then I'm not going to give you any credit for creativity.
Anyway, I don�t know why this issue gets me so annoyed. Depending on your perspective (or not) there are much more important things that affect society, but I guess I see this lack of creativity as representative of the ideas with which Egyptian schoolchildren are indoctrinated from their earliest school years. What does it ultimately result in? A society full of people who can only do what they�re told by their superiors (God forbid they listen to and learn from their peers), and who are afraid of change (which, granted, is not strictly a good thing). But how will anything change for the better if people don�t start trying to think "outside the box" (I know, I hate that phrase), and listening to each other? I mean, if the people in society who are supposed to be more creative by profession can�t even manage it, what hope is there for the rest of us? And if they�re not creative or particularly sure of what they are doing, then why don�t they listen to other people�s advice? Because no one knows the temper tantrum that is my hair better than I do. [Not even Chester, the heaven-sent, fabulously gay man at Vog in Philly, who did amazing things with my hair, and who I bequethed to BK and Jing when I left.]
I feel like this problem extends to the rest of the arts. It's certainly true in Arabic literature. There are still a lot of writers out there who think that their role is to emulate and imitate the poets of old. This is why I'm such an advocate for the use of colloquial Arabic in literature. There is no doubt in my mind that "classical" (or standard) Arabic is one of the most beautiful, expressive languages in the world. But, you know, it no longer accurately captures the realities of the Arab world today. In my humble opinion. People need to get over the past and move into the future. Take what you want from the exalted past, but hone it into something that works for the future.
I feel like once we (Arabs) as a whole learn to do that, a lot of our internal and international problems will be solved. I'm not saying that there aren't a lot of innovative Arabs out there (there are, a LOT), but it needs to become more widespread. Or something. And it needs to be done in such a way that we maintain our Arabness. I think Dubai is kind of on the right track, but they've been working at it a long time. I don't know if Egypt is at a point where it can even begin to implement those kinds of changes.
And now I think it's time to cut this short (har har har).