Haircut Sir?

Now I've had a few dodgy haircuts in my time. For instance, when I had the quiffectomy in Palo Alto in 1997 and ended up looking like Julius Caesar.

When we lived in Kilburn my coiffure was attended to with varying degrees of competence by some very amiable Arsenal-supporting Kurdish refugees.

Only recently I had a worrying hair experience in Magherafelt with a hairstylist (?) from Toomebridge whose heavily bandaged finger made any sensible trimming impossible. Typically British, I cheerfully paid up, tipped the lady, and said thanks for a palpably wonky haircut.

In all of the above instances I was at least able to communicate with the person with the scissors, so the prospect of getting a haircut over here was a little bit daunting to say the least, especially as hair is a more valuable commodity for me these days.

As luck would have it, there is barbers just round the corner - a 'high-tech' barbers actually, as per the revolving sign outside. After consulting the Lonely Planet phrasebook, it looked a fairly straightforward process. "O-o-ne-gai shi-mas to-ri-min-gu" is "I'd like a trim please", although this just elicited a puzzled look from the middle-aged proprietor. She then asked some scruffy young kid in the queue what he thought it meant, and he just smirked. The general consensus seemed to be that it was a pretty odd request.

But I had a back-up plan - the universality of barbering means that a 'number three' should be the same anywhere in the world, and I know 'number three' in Japanese (san ban). So, no problem, with a few hand gestures, some buzz-buzz sounds and some san bans, my haircut specification could be adequately explained.

But there was a problem - the woman had no clippers (at the time, I thought this was a bit naff for a 'high-tech' barbers, but afterwards I studied the sign more carefully. This was in fact a 'high technique' barbers - see pic, right - so fair play to the lady, she had scissors and a cut-throat razor and that was your lot. She was an artisan.)

So eventually I did what all English people seem to do in this kind of situation. I explained what I wanted in English, regardless of the fact that she didn't understand a word, and sat down to let fate take its course.

And she did a top job. Far better than the trendy Cupertino stylist, the Kurdish rebels (but not the same banter), and the cack-handed Mid-Ulsterwoman. So I'll surely be going back ("Ma-e to o-na-ji" - "Same as before" please).

But this time I won't ask for a torimingu, as when I asked a colleague about this at work he said this was 'trim' in the context of dogs or hedges. No wondered she looked puzzled, and no wonder the kid smirked. And no wonder it's a bloody Lonely Planet for anyone using that phrasebook...