This morning I woke up after 8 delicious hours of sleep to a rather rude awakening...I had forgotten to set my alarm and I had a hair appointment at 9am...and holy fig - it was 845am when I woke. Paaaaannnnnicccccc! Rush! You know that kind of panic when you don't know whether to pull on your jeans or brush your teeth so far...literally chicken without a head. Anyway - I levitated out of bed, bolted about my house and screamed out of the front door at 200 miles an hour! Thank heavens the hairdresser is literally across the road from my house - so 30 seconds later I was sitting in the chair and yakking away with my hairdresser, Sophie!
While the roots were getting hidden, this little girl called Maya was brought into the shop by her folks. It was her first ever haircut. Mom was noticeably anxious and Dad had the superlens mega camera out snapping away at the event. And in that millisecond I was transported back to a place and time that I have not thought about in a long long time. Back to my hairdressing days when I was a lightie. Dear sweet Alice - amazing Alice. When my mom was first widowed, times were tight and so my mom went to the Teachers Training College (TTC) to have her hair done where for a few dollars you were a 'guineapig' for all the trainee hairdressing apprentice's. I don't recall any mishaps over the years with mom's hair...but I must remember to ask her! Anyway, Alice started cutting my mom's hair there. Back in the 80's when Rhodesia had become Zimbabwe, my mom and Alice struck up a friendship - a black woman and a white woman in the height of the nation building in the new Zimbabwe. It was a friendship that spanned decades. Absolutely decades. Alice graduated, opened her own salon, my sister and I were ably hairstyled by Alice. I remember being a particularly wriggly, irritable child who hated the hairdresser....so poor old Alice had her work cut out for her. I remember sitting on a booster seat, having a colourful hair 'apron' put around my neck and constantly rubbing my nose as the little hairs went up my nose as she cut. I remember how excited I used to get when Alice used to bring out the big white talc powder brush to brush off the hairs from my neck once she had finished cutting. Such excitement!
Alice opened her salon with Sharon - the most energetic, happy, loud lady I ever remember. Their salon was inside Haddon and Sly...I forget which level. I remember having to use the escalator to get to them. After haircuts on Saturday morning we were treated to tea in the Haddon's self-service tearoom where you could choose, for yourself, from the counter. I always used to have a milkshake and one of those bright yellow marzipan rectangle squares from Downings Bakery...with the chocolate dipped ends and the chocolate drop on the top. Yum! They were so delicious. Alice cut my whole families hair - that's what happens in a small community. Word travels fast! My Gran used to have her hair 'set' by Alice each week. Alice was responsible for my first (and only) perm...dear gosh - it was NOT pretty! I wonder if people even get perms these days...possibly still in Bulawayo only? :)
Alice moved salons over the years, but my mom never lost her. Mom followed her around the city. When my gran got sick in 1990, Alice was amazing. She would pop into 7 Francis Warren Rd and give my gran a quick snip...gran was too sick to get out of bed. And even with her hair coming out form the chemo, Alice made her look like a beautiful lady. I am overcome when I think about it - the kindness of that gesture has more meaning when I am 35 than it did when I was 14.
My mom went to Alice when she was in her wheelchair. Like I say - decades. And then Alice got sick and passed away. I will never forget my mom telling me. It was a sad day in our family. Dear sweet Alice was gone. And to this day - my mom has never ever found a hairdresser quite like Alice. She has had different one's over the years. But dear sweet Alice was irreplaceable. Now Mom has her hair cut by the ladies who live in the road behind her. Veronica, my mom's full time helper, wheels Mum around the corner...on the dodgiest, potholed roads you have ever seen (this is Bulawayo after all!) and the lovely ladies cut her hair al fresco. That's right - in their front garden! It's easier than getting her chair into the house, inevitably there is no electricity so the natural light is needed...and most importantly, the sunshine 360 days a year in Bulawayo means no hairdryer is required. It is a win-win. Mom reckons she can whip around to their house, have a cut and be back within 30 minutes. Now that is good going!
And thinking about Alice has got me thinking about all the other people who have made my life special. The one's who are not family, but who, when I think of them evoke memories and happy moments instantaneously. That is the blessing of growing up in a small town. Probably most top of mind is my Nuna. Nettie Mlambo. My 2nd mom. When my dad died, Nuna came to look after my sister and I when we moved as a family to Tenby Avenue. Nuna was a Shona living in Matabeleland. I actually do wonder how she ended up in Bulawayo when her home all her life was Ruwa. Nuna was a BIG part of our lives. She held our family life together and looked after us each and every day. She was the backbone of the 3 musketeers life. She had 3 kids - Sam, Jane and Philip. Sam now works for the UN, Jane is a missionary...and I have no idea where Philip is...last I recall he was in Harare. Nuna's kids lived with us over the years and grew up with us. Jane went on to have twins - Nigel and Natasha on Christmas Eve. The twins must be about 16 or so now I reckon. With each passing year, Nuna shrunk - she literally got smaller and smaller. Carly and I used to tease her about how small she was getting. The last present I bought her was on a trip home from SA at the height of the trouble in Zim. There was no transportation due to the petrol crisis. So we went into town and managed to track down a bicycle for her. I came home and gave it to her. She was thrilled. The bike was so jolly big for her, but once she was on the seat, she was good to go! We loved our Nun's. Nuna retired a few years back - she was 70. She did not want to leave us. Desperately did not want to leave my mom. But she needed to retire - she needed to go and enjoy her life. And then we got the news - Nuna died on 22 April 2010. From breast cancer. She was only retired for a few short years. We love you our Nuna and think of you often.
And there are so many others over the years - who, until this morning's little girl hair episode, I had not realised were so integral to my growing up years.
Mosa - the Futter's gardener who worked at Girls College for years - he used to wave madly when you saw him at school and always always always had his red knitted hat on - no matter the weather!
Ben - the Futter's cook, who also joined Girls College when they immigrated
Fungi - Pix and Foz gardener. Fungs has been part of the family from when I can remember - donkey years for sure
Rosie - James and Pauli's carer from when they were 'knee-high-to-a-grasshopper'
Gibson - my sister and Tobes gardener from ZIm in Jhb - Gibbie was a legend!
Philemon and Jezaphat - the Brans family housekeepers - so many happy memories of our times on Nicotina with them all
I have absolutely loved writing this blog - remembering all these fantastic people - some of whom I have not thought of in years. All evoked by that little girls first ever haircut. Today I am so thankful for the amazing role all of these people played in my life. Some directly, some just by their happy natures and wonderful caring ways. There are so many people who make life special - and I honour my non-family special people.
Happy Saturday lovelies!
While the roots were getting hidden, this little girl called Maya was brought into the shop by her folks. It was her first ever haircut. Mom was noticeably anxious and Dad had the superlens mega camera out snapping away at the event. And in that millisecond I was transported back to a place and time that I have not thought about in a long long time. Back to my hairdressing days when I was a lightie. Dear sweet Alice - amazing Alice. When my mom was first widowed, times were tight and so my mom went to the Teachers Training College (TTC) to have her hair done where for a few dollars you were a 'guineapig' for all the trainee hairdressing apprentice's. I don't recall any mishaps over the years with mom's hair...but I must remember to ask her! Anyway, Alice started cutting my mom's hair there. Back in the 80's when Rhodesia had become Zimbabwe, my mom and Alice struck up a friendship - a black woman and a white woman in the height of the nation building in the new Zimbabwe. It was a friendship that spanned decades. Absolutely decades. Alice graduated, opened her own salon, my sister and I were ably hairstyled by Alice. I remember being a particularly wriggly, irritable child who hated the hairdresser....so poor old Alice had her work cut out for her. I remember sitting on a booster seat, having a colourful hair 'apron' put around my neck and constantly rubbing my nose as the little hairs went up my nose as she cut. I remember how excited I used to get when Alice used to bring out the big white talc powder brush to brush off the hairs from my neck once she had finished cutting. Such excitement!
Alice opened her salon with Sharon - the most energetic, happy, loud lady I ever remember. Their salon was inside Haddon and Sly...I forget which level. I remember having to use the escalator to get to them. After haircuts on Saturday morning we were treated to tea in the Haddon's self-service tearoom where you could choose, for yourself, from the counter. I always used to have a milkshake and one of those bright yellow marzipan rectangle squares from Downings Bakery...with the chocolate dipped ends and the chocolate drop on the top. Yum! They were so delicious. Alice cut my whole families hair - that's what happens in a small community. Word travels fast! My Gran used to have her hair 'set' by Alice each week. Alice was responsible for my first (and only) perm...dear gosh - it was NOT pretty! I wonder if people even get perms these days...possibly still in Bulawayo only? :)
Alice moved salons over the years, but my mom never lost her. Mom followed her around the city. When my gran got sick in 1990, Alice was amazing. She would pop into 7 Francis Warren Rd and give my gran a quick snip...gran was too sick to get out of bed. And even with her hair coming out form the chemo, Alice made her look like a beautiful lady. I am overcome when I think about it - the kindness of that gesture has more meaning when I am 35 than it did when I was 14.
My mom went to Alice when she was in her wheelchair. Like I say - decades. And then Alice got sick and passed away. I will never forget my mom telling me. It was a sad day in our family. Dear sweet Alice was gone. And to this day - my mom has never ever found a hairdresser quite like Alice. She has had different one's over the years. But dear sweet Alice was irreplaceable. Now Mom has her hair cut by the ladies who live in the road behind her. Veronica, my mom's full time helper, wheels Mum around the corner...on the dodgiest, potholed roads you have ever seen (this is Bulawayo after all!) and the lovely ladies cut her hair al fresco. That's right - in their front garden! It's easier than getting her chair into the house, inevitably there is no electricity so the natural light is needed...and most importantly, the sunshine 360 days a year in Bulawayo means no hairdryer is required. It is a win-win. Mom reckons she can whip around to their house, have a cut and be back within 30 minutes. Now that is good going!
And thinking about Alice has got me thinking about all the other people who have made my life special. The one's who are not family, but who, when I think of them evoke memories and happy moments instantaneously. That is the blessing of growing up in a small town. Probably most top of mind is my Nuna. Nettie Mlambo. My 2nd mom. When my dad died, Nuna came to look after my sister and I when we moved as a family to Tenby Avenue. Nuna was a Shona living in Matabeleland. I actually do wonder how she ended up in Bulawayo when her home all her life was Ruwa. Nuna was a BIG part of our lives. She held our family life together and looked after us each and every day. She was the backbone of the 3 musketeers life. She had 3 kids - Sam, Jane and Philip. Sam now works for the UN, Jane is a missionary...and I have no idea where Philip is...last I recall he was in Harare. Nuna's kids lived with us over the years and grew up with us. Jane went on to have twins - Nigel and Natasha on Christmas Eve. The twins must be about 16 or so now I reckon. With each passing year, Nuna shrunk - she literally got smaller and smaller. Carly and I used to tease her about how small she was getting. The last present I bought her was on a trip home from SA at the height of the trouble in Zim. There was no transportation due to the petrol crisis. So we went into town and managed to track down a bicycle for her. I came home and gave it to her. She was thrilled. The bike was so jolly big for her, but once she was on the seat, she was good to go! We loved our Nun's. Nuna retired a few years back - she was 70. She did not want to leave us. Desperately did not want to leave my mom. But she needed to retire - she needed to go and enjoy her life. And then we got the news - Nuna died on 22 April 2010. From breast cancer. She was only retired for a few short years. We love you our Nuna and think of you often.
And there are so many others over the years - who, until this morning's little girl hair episode, I had not realised were so integral to my growing up years.
Mosa - the Futter's gardener who worked at Girls College for years - he used to wave madly when you saw him at school and always always always had his red knitted hat on - no matter the weather!
Ben - the Futter's cook, who also joined Girls College when they immigrated
Fungi - Pix and Foz gardener. Fungs has been part of the family from when I can remember - donkey years for sure
Rosie - James and Pauli's carer from when they were 'knee-high-to-a-grasshopper'
Gibson - my sister and Tobes gardener from ZIm in Jhb - Gibbie was a legend!
Philemon and Jezaphat - the Brans family housekeepers - so many happy memories of our times on Nicotina with them all
I have absolutely loved writing this blog - remembering all these fantastic people - some of whom I have not thought of in years. All evoked by that little girls first ever haircut. Today I am so thankful for the amazing role all of these people played in my life. Some directly, some just by their happy natures and wonderful caring ways. There are so many people who make life special - and I honour my non-family special people.
Happy Saturday lovelies!
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