Up front this time. I'm a Vehicle mechanic in the United States Air Force. I used to think that it was like bragging to throw it out there straight forward, but, I realize that it has alot to do with who I am. For example, I can't wear my hair any way I wanna. I can't do my nails whenever I feel...nor how I feel. And I can't wear clothing of my expression to work...and must censor myself after work as well. I'm in the military...it's my life. Not ALL of my life...but it does cut into all my life now a days.
What I think sucks for me is, when I was in the States, things were going well for me. Before enlisting, I let my mom take care of my hair and that was that. It grew like crazy, and I didn't really care much about when I was getting my next relaxer. I could always year the hat of my choice on bad days. get it braided when I didn't feel like getting it relaxed. Those things burn like mad if you're not careful. My later portion of my time as a civilian, I decided to go to one salon that my friend from church recommended me to. Her hair always looked nice, and I thought why not? Unfortunately, I got burned for it. Seemed my scalp was more sensitive than the hairdresser thought it was despite me telling her. I recovered though.
Going off to Basic Training and my technical training base after that I soon realized, I had to take care of my own hair. After I got the hang of what I needed to do to it, It became expensive and inconvenient for me. I never burned myself with the chemicals badly, and if I did, that's my learning bought and paid for. Luckily though, i went on to my first actual base. The one where I'd be carrying out my duties as a mechanic (in training anyways) when I met my chior director who disapproved of the way I took care of my hair. She hooked me up and got me an appointment for my first real salon visit. She even paid for it...I was scared that all hairdressers were inconsiderate like the first one. But...I left the salon feeling so pretty and my scalp, rejuvenated like never before!
I was so impressed.
After a while, I got over the money and started going monthly at the least. My hair looked so happy with the treatment...but then...I got orders to South Korea. I was sweating the move the whole time I was getting ready for it. "Black people don't live in Korea! nobody's gonna know how to take care of my hair! I'ma have to do it myself again...and not likely they'll have the stuff I need. My hair isn't like the silky smooth and straight locks of Asians! Neither of Caucasians...I'm screwed." I knew I was.
Finally I got here...and boy was I right. EVERYTHING is run by Koreans on base. Had to get used to it...some of them didn't even know that good English, and so...well, one day , I went downtown and was approached by a young black lady with a sweet smile. Several times this happened actually. "Here, take my card, I do your hair however you want. Braids? Extensions?" I asked, "Relax and wrap?" She'd say, "Bring me relax kit, I do for you." I'm thinkin, "THIS'Z GREAT! Black people in Korea that do black people hair!"
Wrong.
The ways she did my hair was ways that had long gone out of use and ways my hair didn't like...not only that, but she didn't rinse it enough times, I'm sure of that. But I went home and rewashed it and did it my way.
Now I realize...I'm on my own. I've turned to online shopping to get my supplies. I was right that even the BX here didn't have the products I needed.
I noticed my hair getting shorter in strange places. it's always been a lot longer on one side than the other, but in the top of my head? What's the deal? I wondered and thought until it depressed me. I couldn't do my hair like I wanted to cuz of a short spot in the top of my head. I was even considering cutting it into a fashionable mullet style that was short up top like the spot, keep my sideswept bangs and keep the length in the back. I was brushing it after I relaxed it one day when my boyfriend who has almost a foot on me and is very intuitive saw the spot. "Who cut your hair?" he asked almost angrily. "Nobody!" I retorted. "What's this then?" He said pulling some of it up so I could see. "I don't know, baby..." I sighed brushing the rest of it up. "It's one tiny spot...this part's not like it...and neither is this part." I showed him. He responded, "Hmm...it looks like somebody tried to layer you hair but messed it up royally!" I looked at him and that's when my mind started to going. mabe she did take some sissors to my hair...and I never knew it...she perhaps realized she didn't know how to do what she was trying to do, or only cut it so the style would work. For those that know...when I said relax and wrap...I didn't mean a style. but a way of drying the hair that gave it a feather-light weight and texture that would blow in the breeze.
Needless to say, I was heated when I left the place for the first time...but even more steamed when I though of how the short spot got in the top of my head. I knew for sure that I'd become the master of my own hair in a foreign country.
What else am I gonna do, eh?
It's gotten a little bit expensive, but only the best for my hair. It's the only thing I can call my own and do whit it what i want...within regulations anyway.
As for my nails, I'm not worried. I put a clear polish on them sometimes, either one to make them stronger, or one to make them grow faster. I must say that growth one from Sally Henson does work, but my nails grow fast anyway. Besides, I hate what a French manicure does to the nails after you get them removed. They make your nail so thin just so the adhesive and cement will bond to the roughness, but it's so thin afterwards...Either you have to keep getting the manicure, or...paint your nails to give them a little support until the weakened nail grows out. A French manicure is permitted in uniform, but...it's not practical with my job. Break fluid is, after all, a paint thinner itself. Risky.
That's all for now. Perhaps later I'll talk about why I've not updated my wardrobe since coming here despite having less than half of the clothes I had in the States.
Ciao!
