THE BARBER’S SHOP

Wairarapa Times-Age, 3 August 1942, Page 4

THE BARBER’S SHOP

PERILS TO 1 BE AVOIDED IN RUSSIA. A Russian barber shop, even in war time, is one of the world’s finest institutions, making a man sadly long for bushy hair and a full beard just to give the barbers something they can really turn their talents to, an American correspondent in Kuibyshev wrote recently. In Russia, he adds, you can get shaved within an inch of your life, powdered, and perfumed for 33 cents. However, language difficulties inject somewhat hazardous phases into your visit. For example, to get a shave you say a word that sounds vaguely like “breeze.” I made this sound once. “Pozhalvista (please),” smiled the barber, and attacked the closest object, which was my head. Now I always say “Pobreite Tolko moyo litso,” which means “Put the razor to my face.” For head-shaving is popular in Russia even in midwinter. This practice dates back to the days when conquering Tartars galloped in looking like thousands of cue balls glittering in the sun. Another hazardous feature of the barber shop is that you might say something which would order an old time Cossack haircut. This calls for shaving the head except for a slice of hair down one side, which the Cossack winds around his ear. Russians adore barber shops. The soldier returning from the front on leave heads straight for the tonsorial temple, asking for—and getting—“the works.” But the most startling feature of the shop is the inevitable perfume. The first experience is quite a surprise. Your thoughts may be miles away, when wham! The barber lets you have it straight in the face—a miniature Niagara mist which he squirts from a bottle. It’s practically impossible to convince him you don’t want perfume. Wo finally reached a compromise—he shoots from long range. That has another advantage: it perfumes your shirt.