I´m almost Chilean

After 6 or 7 months without a haircut, I finally decided to put my life (or at least my ability to be seen in public) in the hands of a Chilean stylist. My host mom recommended the guy she goes to and her hair looks okay, so that seemed like a safe bet. We finally found the salon tucked away with a bunch of other salons, snack kiosks, and underwear stores in the center of town. Needless to say, it was sketch. But Rrrrroberto came out to meet us in the courtyard, so there was no turning back. After showing me some hairstyles not of this decade and asking me what I wanted, I took a deep breath, sat down, and told myself I´d work with whatever he gave me.

I was actually fairly relaxed, but my on-looking sister was horrified. His movements with the scissors were very dramatic, he gave me more bangs than I´ve ever had in my life, and I almost walked out with a mullet except we told him to take more off the back. Well, he took more off the front, too, and after curling my bangs, they were only covering half of my forehead. Yip.

After staring at myself in every mirror, store window, and passenger van we passed, I got home and took a shower. Thankfully, without the curl, the bangs aren´t nearly as short and the style over all is starting to grow on me. And by that I mean I like it more -- it´s only been a few days. On the upside, the cut is very Chilean and now people think it´s weird that someone so Chilean is a gringa, like somehow I´m trying to blend on the metro. Which I kind of am.

See for yourselves: