Severing ties too soon
Last week, an emotional breakdown brought my beauty shop visits to a grinding halt.
There I was lying on my back as a young woman massaged my face with beautifying lotions and potions. My eyes were closed and I was drifting into deep relaxation, but acutely aware that four or five women standing nearby were talking about me. I know this because I heard, “She doesn’t understand” several times.
Suddenly there was tapping on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to find a box in front of my chin and a sales pitch for some aromatherapy kit followed. The price was outrageous, tailored to a foreigner’s wallet. I smiled and said, “No thank you, not today”. At this they looked very disappointed. One persistent woman knelt down close to my face and spoke so quickly I couldn't understand a word. “No, I don’t want it.”
She began to jab at my face-- my forehead, my cheek, my chin. Presumably she was explaining why I need whatever is in this box. At this point, they were all looking down at me frustrated at my unwillingness to comply. Each “Sorry, I don’t want it”, prompted them to reconvene and intensify the pitch. More jabbing. More words I don' know.
To discourage them, I closed my eyes. And then I felt my face wrinkle and harden. My eyes became moist under my eyelids and tears were trying to push their way out. Damn! They slid out and formed two small puddles in the corners of my eyes. Then, puddles overfull, the tears began to roll down my cheeks. I heard a woman inhale sharply. She alerted the others. The word spread fast. I closed my eyes tighter, but I could feel that a crowd had drawn around me. I could sense everyone’s confusion, especially my own. I felt someone blotting my tears with a towel. A woman spoke softly into my ear, “No problem. No problem”.
I choked out “I had a bad day”--a lie--and then I heard those words passed through the room in whispers. “She said she had a bad day.” I imagined watching myself from above, this extra large foreign woman laying on her back crying for no apparent reason. And at the embarrassment of this, the tears began to push themselves up and out faster.
Finally the room was quiet and I could breathe. With such a limited vocabulary, I found myself saying, “I don’t know why”.
After a half hour of silence, my facial was finished and my eyes were dry. I sat up to put on my shoes. Everyone was quiet, glancing at me sideways. I imagined they were thinking, “Don’t say anything. The foreign woman might cry again.”
My plan was to go back a week later and try to explain myself, so I asked my tutor, Sharon, to help me construct some sentences. After I told Sharon the whole story, she looked at me quizzically and said, “I think its best you just don’t go back. ”
There I was lying on my back as a young woman massaged my face with beautifying lotions and potions. My eyes were closed and I was drifting into deep relaxation, but acutely aware that four or five women standing nearby were talking about me. I know this because I heard, “She doesn’t understand” several times.
Suddenly there was tapping on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to find a box in front of my chin and a sales pitch for some aromatherapy kit followed. The price was outrageous, tailored to a foreigner’s wallet. I smiled and said, “No thank you, not today”. At this they looked very disappointed. One persistent woman knelt down close to my face and spoke so quickly I couldn't understand a word. “No, I don’t want it.”
She began to jab at my face-- my forehead, my cheek, my chin. Presumably she was explaining why I need whatever is in this box. At this point, they were all looking down at me frustrated at my unwillingness to comply. Each “Sorry, I don’t want it”, prompted them to reconvene and intensify the pitch. More jabbing. More words I don' know.
To discourage them, I closed my eyes. And then I felt my face wrinkle and harden. My eyes became moist under my eyelids and tears were trying to push their way out. Damn! They slid out and formed two small puddles in the corners of my eyes. Then, puddles overfull, the tears began to roll down my cheeks. I heard a woman inhale sharply. She alerted the others. The word spread fast. I closed my eyes tighter, but I could feel that a crowd had drawn around me. I could sense everyone’s confusion, especially my own. I felt someone blotting my tears with a towel. A woman spoke softly into my ear, “No problem. No problem”.
I choked out “I had a bad day”--a lie--and then I heard those words passed through the room in whispers. “She said she had a bad day.” I imagined watching myself from above, this extra large foreign woman laying on her back crying for no apparent reason. And at the embarrassment of this, the tears began to push themselves up and out faster.
Finally the room was quiet and I could breathe. With such a limited vocabulary, I found myself saying, “I don’t know why”.
After a half hour of silence, my facial was finished and my eyes were dry. I sat up to put on my shoes. Everyone was quiet, glancing at me sideways. I imagined they were thinking, “Don’t say anything. The foreign woman might cry again.”
My plan was to go back a week later and try to explain myself, so I asked my tutor, Sharon, to help me construct some sentences. After I told Sharon the whole story, she looked at me quizzically and said, “I think its best you just don’t go back. ”
posted by B | 1:10 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home