Jesus Hair

Last week, Miss Faith got a new hairdo. Her hair was braided, and the patterns of the lines zigged and zagged, with a culminating row of loops. Sister Wanyaga also had a new style, called Kilimanjaro after the mountain because the rows all come together at the top of the head, making a bit of a mountain. Many school children, regardless of whether they are boys or girls, have shaved heads, or at least closely cropped hair. Some girls have rows of braids that go straight back, ending at the neck. Among the adults, I have never seen so many elegant hair styles, and such variety. It is not uncommon to see two women sitting in front of a hair salon, one quickly and expertly doing the other's hair. Their fingers fly. I asked Faith about having my hair done, but she immediately said that it wouldn't work, as my hair wouldn't stay together.

On the ride home one day on our school bus, the two young girls behind me were gently touching my pony tail. When they noticed that I noticed them, they were quite apologetic. Since I didn't mind, they continued to play hairdresser with my flimsy, straight hair, and the time passed. Just before arriving at her bus stop, one of the girls tenderly stroked my hair, released from the pony tail, and said quietly, under her breath, "Miss Susan has Jesus hair." I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry, but the comment was so unexpected, so startling, so - where is the word I need here? - so indicative of a likely historically inaccurate Sunday School picture, it is still floating around in my mind.