Though 2023 has been the most amazing year of my life, not
everything has been peachy. I have done
my hair dirty this year.
A little background on me.
I have had natural hair for the last 15 years (I can’t believe it’s been
that long!). What that means is that my
hair is not chemically treated to make it straight. It is very long, very curly, and it is my
personal pride. My hair is life. My hair is love. Can you feel the love tonight?
My hair is also a challenge while on the road. I knew it would be this way. What with the washing, detangling, deep
conditioning, and twisting, the process would take hours when I was living in
Georgia. When I still worked in an
office, I would only go through this once a week on Sundays. When covid hit and I wasn’t leaving the house
so often, the schedule changed to every two weeks.
During my travels, the process is greatly reduced. I don’t have access to my hood dryer for conditioning. Additionally, I’m
dealing with foreign water, which can sometimes be harsh, while using products that
aren’t necessarily designed for my hair. I foolishly thought I could get away with doing
the bare minimum of washing and detangling every two weeks. Um … no.
Turns out, all that extra stuff I was doing with Indian
herbs and homemade conditioners wasn’t so extra after all. Those were necessary steps to keep the hair
happy.
I’ve been coloring my gray hair with henna for years. I chose to use it because it is all natural
(pure henna is just dried, ground up leaves), it acts as a protein treatment to
strengthen the hair, and I like the color.
The last treatment I did was in February 2023 at the latest. This picture (02/24) is after a year of growth and what is
known as a metric buttload of gray hair.
I’m quite saddened. I don’t think I can pass for a 20-year-old anymore, dear readers.
Especially not since I turned 50.
(What’s up with that?)
I considered just letting it grow out and eventually cutting
out the red, but … I really can’t stand the gray. I don’t want to put any chemicals in my hair
(especially since I haven’t babied my hair in a year, so its condition isn’t
optimal to even take the color). As
messy and time-consuming as a henna treatment is, I decided to do one during my
latest trip to the states.
Doing this process in a hotel room without a tub was not
exactly ideal. But if being on the road
for so long has taught me anything it’s that you gotta be able to adapt. The mixing and application of the mud-like
henna was easy enough. Rinsing it out was
always the problem. The shower ended up looking
like a crime scene, but at least the messiest part was done.
The results were spotty.
I wasn’t used to having so much new growth to cover and I should have adjusted
my application method to compensate, but it was still a vast improvement.
But, alas, only the color was better. After a couple of days, once the hair dried, I could see that it wasn’t just the gray that was making it look bad. There were some definite short pieces that I could no longer lie to myself and say was new growth. Skimping on the deep conditioners, treatments, and even my hair coloring came with a price that I'm only now acknowledging.
That’s broken off hair, stupid! And it’s been doing that and feeling thinner for months.
Denial is truly a powerful thing.
It was then, as my newly washed scalp began to itch, that I
realized that I usually clarify my hair before a henna treatment. I had neglected to do so this time and had not
truly cleaned the gunk off my scalp in a year.
Now I also had henna residue on top of all the buildup from the foreign products I’d been
using. This is Haircare: 101 and I
failed it just as I failed my hair.
I have sinned and now I must do penance. I pray that the
hair gods forgive me. It’s time to go
back to school.
YouTube videos have reminded me of the virtues of protective
styling, deep conditioning, and cleaning the scalp to promote hair growth. I’ve set myself back at least a couple of
years and I’m obviously still not in a stable, controlled environment, but I’ll
do my best from now on to keep what hair I have left on my head.
I can’t say that Europe makes that process any easier. I’ve already mentioned the lack of black hair
care products in most countries. Portugal
(fortunately) seems to be an exception to this rule. While they don’t carry the product lines I’m used
to seeing, there are quite a few items with pictures of big-haired black women
on them. Yet another plus to moving to
the country.
Another issue I have is with European bathrooms. This is one credit I will give to America for
doing things better. The setup in my
house was very simple. I had a bathtub with a wall mounted showerhead and a
shower curtain to keep in the water.
Easy, right? Europe has decided
to get complicated with its designs and I’m not digging it.
First off, most bathrooms I’ve encountered on this trip have
drains built into the floor. The reason
for that is because none of the showers are designed to keep in
water. I don’t know why this is so
difficult, but showering in Europe is made way more of an issue than it should
be. This is the bathroom from Naxos,
Greece. Pretty and artistic but messy.
Secondly, and what I miss most during the rinse out process of doing my hair, is the lack of bathtubs. I’ve encountered maybe three in my entire journey. The Europeans are very fond of showers with a detachable showerhead. The better ones will also have the big pancake sized showerhead directly overhead like this one in Ireland.
That was a decent sized, fully enclosed shower, a rarity in Europe and unlike the shower in Santorini. This one at least had a shower curtain, but it was still tiny with a low ceiling. At 5’9” with a foot of hair, I had to commit an act of contortionism to get through the shampooing process. A taller man would have had to hunch over to get anything done.
Then there’s this one from Mykonos. Just … why? You know people use water in this tiny little space. Why not just enclose the whole thing to keep the water inside the tiny little space? Why is this concept so hard to understand?
I’ve seen a few setups like this one in Sofia, Bulgaria. I can’t tell you how much I hate those partial partitions. Seriously, just get a shower rod and curtain. That would solve so many problems.
Needless to say, for the sake of my sanity (and my poor hair), I will be looking for a new home with a decent shower set-up. Finding a tub in a European apartment might be like finding a unicorn, but that won't stop me from trying.
