"Are you a black American?"

After my experience last week, I now fully understand the meaning of suffering for ones looks. The saying “no pain, no gain” has an entirely different meaning to me. Back home in Canada, I would consider myself a pretty low maintenance girl when it comes to my appearance. I have never really liked overly done look on others or myself either. I will wear a little make up, make sure my hair is presentable - even will straighten it occasionally. But I don’t tend to spend hours on my appearance. It would go against what I like to call the “au naturel” look.

However, here in Ghana the majority of women will spend hours at the salon getting their hair washed, chemically straightened, put in a weave, or braided (with a variety of different styles of corn rows and extensions). Therefore, silly me, I decided that when in Africa… you know the rest of the saying…

My thought process for getting my hair braided was I thought that the final product would be even lower maintenance than my regular hair regime: wash, comb, gel, air dry, pony tail. At this point I was sick of my massive hair due to the incredible humidity and my ends were feeling like they were in need of a cut. Therefore, I thought braids would be a great option: my hair would be already styled when I woke up, I would require fewer washings, I would have increased air flow to my scalp, and of course - it would just look pretty damn cool.

I decided on the micro braid style (aka rasta braids) which is just your entire head covered in small braids - mainly chose the style because it would prevent scalp burning in the hot sun. I was told that it should only take about 1-2 hours by a teacher friend. Therefore I estimated it would actually take 3 hours instead. I scheduled an appointment afterschool to start around 3pm. When I got to the salon, I had to give a child some money to go and buy my hair extensions. For those of you who are wondering - I did not get black - they have a light brown colour that I bought instead. Once the extensions were bought the hair had to be prepared - which basically means cutting it to the proper length and then separating the strands. By 3:30 we were ready to go and my hair began to be braided.

It hurts like HELL! What I wasn’t prepared for was how incredibly painful the braiding would be. I expected a little pinching - but this was a little much. And of course I didn’t want to let on how much my head was hurting because I didn’t want to be the ‘obruni’ who couldn’t withstand the pain that probably every Ghanaian woman experiences on a regular basis in their beauty regime. So every time I winced and the hair dresser stated “I am hurting you” I would respond, “no, I am okay, keep going”. And keep going they did. Three hours later, at my estimated finish time, my head was barely halfway finished… I was starting to get a little thirsty and hungry. I also had to go pee. I was also starting to worry - would I regret getting this done to my head? Was my real hair going to fall out when the braids were taken out? (I was starting to remember how the hair wraps I would put into girls’ hair at camp would often cause that piece to fall out…) But at that point, there was no turning back and I kept telling myself that it couldn’t be much longer.

As the rest of the customers in the salon started to thin out, more and more women started to braid my hair. By the end, I had about 6 women who were working on my head so the braiding was finished around 8pm at night. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the end. They then had to take a pair of scissors and began to snip all the stray hairs on the outside of the braids. Another 15 min. Not quite finished. A large flame was then lit and then passed over all my braids. This did nothing to appease my fears about my real hair being destroyed in the end. (I later found out it was to burn off any of my real hair sticking out from the braids). And then finally my new hair was dipped into a hot water bath and then sprayed with some finishing spray. It was 8:30pm - five and a half hours later - and I was FINALLY finished. I paid the madam 10 ghana cedis which included a fairly good tip and went on my way home, tired but happy to be done!

The braids definitely look amazing! However the first three days was spent in incredible pain from the pressure on my head (and the extra weight pulling down on my real hair!). I can’t remember the last time I took that much extra strength Tylenol! The pain finally died down as I became used to the new hair do and I have now entered the itching stage. (Which could make one wish for the pain stage instead of the itching). Apparently, this stage is also very normal and can last anywhere from one to two weeks. An interesting sight is seeing many African women with their hair braided always patting their heads. Up until I had my hair braided, I had no idea what they were doing that for. Because you can’t actually scratch your scalp once it is braided, in order to relieve itching, the head is patted. Well, I have definitely adopted this technique, true Ghanaian style!

As I have completed my first week with my hair braids, I have surpassed my initial - “I will give it one week” timeline for the pain and itching. While the itching is still present, it is not as intense as it as initially. I am still getting used to the look and the new styles I can create. It has definitely been an interesting experience that I am not sure if I will repeat… but I am glad to have done it at least once. All the Ghanaians love the look on me. Personally, I think it they just find it hilarious that the “obruni” was able to get her hair done. They keep asking me “doesn’t it hurt?”

Anyway, I will close this blog with a little interesting story that I am pretty sure has to do with my braids. So Rabina and I have gotten pretty used to being called “Obamas” by people in larger cities. At first we were not too sure what they were referring to, but soon clued in that they thought we were American’s and gave us that title. (I don’t think telling them we are “harpers” would have any actual meaning…) So when I was in Kumasi last weekend I was in the market looking at some earrings. Then out of nowhere, the woman who owned the jewelry asked me, “Are you a black American”. Well, I have been asked if I am many many different nationalities - including most commonly American. But never has someone thought I was black before. I guess with my braids, sunglasses on and standing in the shade, it might have been an easy mistake to make?? Well I of course responded, “no”, to which she replied, “but you look different”. So I told her, no I was in fact an ‘obruni’ and I probably only looked different because of my braids.

I will have to see if I can last the four weeks the braids are supposed to stay in for. Funnily enough, I am actually missing my own hair! Ps. Don’t worry, I have taken pictures.

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Part of trip: My African Adventure

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