Often, frequently, usually, I hear from my foreign friends how difficult it is to find bras, clothes, shoes, etc, that fit them. They are too big and/or too tall. I also hear about how nobody in Thailand knows how to cut their curly, wavy, or funky hair.
In mixed martial arts there is a move called the reversal. Technically this move is derived from Brazilian jiu-jitsu where an opponent on the bottom will do a sweep or escape, and reverse their position so that they are now on top. Hence the name, the reversal.
I used to have a hard time finding bras that fit and getting my hair cut too. But this was back in the United States. Ha. Of course we look at the map and we think The US? It’s huge! Are you telling me you couldn’t find a bra or get a decent haircut in a country that big? No, of course not.
But the US is no Thailand. Finding a bra that was small enough was my problem. Yes, I said problem. They went quickly or stores didn’t stock that many. And as a young woman the idea of shopping in the pre-teens section was like, walking into Wal-Mart, I wanted to die of embarrassment. The designs were also very plain and kiddie-like. These days is another cotton pickin’ story. . .
I spent my college years in the small town of Durango in Colorado and because of the Native American population I did okay with haircuts. So no big transistion from Hawaii to here but once I left? Whoo-weeee. I was surprised to learn that straight hair could be f***ed up. And how. It didn’t help that when I wanted to save money I went to cut ‘n save types of places that butchered my hair. Or as my mom would say, looked like a dog bite.
I (not soon enough) began to think: more expensive = better haircut. But, hark! Is that a blow dryer I hear in the distance? This equation proved to be faulty, faulty in Huntsville, Alabama for example. The salon I chose turned out to be one of those Southern wives who church and lunch and well, heavens to Betsy, my hair was like so pretty! Healthy! Straight! Exotic! (Please put the curling iron down.) So how did you manage to ruin it? I left looking like an Asian Peggy Sue.
My first month living in Thailand was in Bangkok so I did two important things: got a haircut and bought bras. Now the bra incident was worth posting on Facebook because I was in for a real treat. Oh Cultural Differences, how I love you so. Centimeters? I was standing in some shop in MBK thinking I have no idea what size I am in centemeters.
So I probably held up the ones I liked and grunted in my typical lady-like fashion and the sales lady gets her tape measure out and all seems to be going according to plan when – she – grabs – me. The girls. She touches the girls. It happened too quick for me to doth protest. Of course, when I retold the story I had to make a joke about it was the most action I had seen in awhile.
I now can find a plethora (that’s right, I said it, plethora) of bras that fit my sensibilities. And I can’t say I’m in haircut heaven because Thailand is a bit too conservative for my liking but dog bites are not in my future.
Although rabid soi dogs seem to be a problem here in Chiang Mai. They enjoy the juicy ankles of my friends. Like the mosquitos, they chawb white meat. This is not to say I haven’t had a few doggies look at me with red in their eyes but what I usually do is yell out some sort of incantation or spell to ward off their dark evil. I call it the reversal.