Friends, Family and Strangers —
Like Luca Brasi, the beard sleeps with the fishes.
The 100-degree heat of Bagan, Burma (to-be-blogged about) and my desire to eat soup again without needing to shampoo my face afterwards led me to have it shaved.
For those of you who supported the beard, thank you. For those who opposed it (a well-organized militia led by my sister Amy), I completely understand — it was pretty gross. And for the 99% of you who couldn’t care less, I completely understand that too — we’ll be back to blogging about more interesting parts of the trip shortly.
Here are the before and after. And please excuse the nudie photos in the background… an international requirement for male barber shops:
(I still needed to shave that beast myself after the barber was done with me).
My man charged me $2.50 for the standard haircut (the old “Burmese schoolboy” chop) and said it would be another $2.50 for the beard. Probably the first beard the barber has ever shaven. My taxi driver stuck around and got a real kick out of watching.
And now back to finishing our Africa posts…