This is where I get my grooming on. In my case this should be a very quick process, but my barber, Zuko the Zulu, spends at least 45 minutes attacking the small platoon on my koppie.
Zuko is a Shaka classicist. Reconnaissance and planning are key. Zuko surveys the scene from a good distance before attacking.
His pre-maneuovre expression – a confused scowl – does not put me at ease. He moves, fells a small bunch of unsuspecting troops, then retreats for tea and a contemplative analysis of the battlefield before swooping in on his next victims.
Zuko’s armoury is impressive. He wields four meticulously-maintained Wahl clippers. Akon, the namesake of his parlour, gives the sub woofer a workout (I keep on meaning to bring a Sarah McLachlan CD along). Zuko often refers to the hairstyle posters as he works, matching the poster to the cut his client has chosen. I usually just ask him to do what he likes – he refers to a picture of Mike Tyson.
One of his impis is kept busy making tea, cleaning blades with methylated spirits and sweeping the odd victim from the floor. He keeps one eye on Zuko, waiting for the voila moment when his expression relaxes signifying that he is done. In my case this could be sooner rather than later, and the impi is especially on guard. The moment arrives and he swoops in to perform what is clearly his favorite task – the 360° mirror fly by. I approve. It doesn’t look much different, and I realise Zuko and his crew might have just been filling time to make some cash – 15 bucks. I throw in 30 so Zuko can shear one of the youngsters. The boy finds this mlungu incredibly entertaining and follows me around whenever I visit. His mum will be pleased when he returns home freshly shorn.
Apparently 30 bucks is a good taking for the day. Akon Barber Shop is never busy, but this is an area where barber shops compete only with shebeens in number so even the serious drunks have a firm control on their heads. To make up for it, Zuko refills gas canisters, a grudge job as he cannot stand the smell. One of the impis usually handles that.
I like Zuko because he takes being a barber seriously and, unlike the 150 buck gents stylist I went to recently, he doesn’t get a kick from sticking ear buds covered in hot wax in your ear holes, only to rip them out soon after. Unlike most stylists, Zuko doesn’t talk about the weather. He talks football and women and drinks tea while he works and introduces me to customers and friends. Kind of like a barber should be, even though he recently painted his walls pink.
Zuko refuses to be photographed which makes me wonder if he has another clandestine profession; but to me, he is the barber of Section C, Khayelitsha, a great little area full of wonderful characters, like the ones in the photos.
I’ll keep on giving Zuko my business as long as there is hair on my head, which I hope lasts longer than anticipated.
