Get a hair cut . . . Greaser!

I work with someone who will remain nameless and the details will be clearly vague, to protect him from any possible repercussions. He came to England illegally ten years ago, when his country was at the height of civil war in the East. He came on a truck delivering pharmaceuticals, and a small boat crossing the sea between Albania to Italy with 15 other people. He says it was the scariest moment of his life, and he didn’t know if he would make it to the other side. The long journey he took across Europe had seen many perish before him; people also had died from exhaustion in trucks, or drowned at sea, this couldn’t deter him though. Nothing could. Because like so many refugees without a home or a country to support or defend him – there was no choice! Stay and be slaughtered, defending yourself against a mass army hungry for blood, with commanders hungrier for power – this was his only choice! Now, he is a jovial man, happy-go-lucky with a dry sense of humour – willing to get on with all the staff he works with. He takes life in his stride; I guess when you have been so close to death, and near to such suffering you value one’s life! So it must sadden him, which it does, that his x-partner who has custody of his child, is with a man who is on Welfare, staying at home all day and not really ‘living’! Oh my, how much my fellow worker has risked for freedom, but he doesn’t see how the current partner of his X can ‘waste away’ and do nothing! So it’s humours to me when the BNP party a far right Nationalist movement say that immigrants come here to suck money out from the government, while the ‘real’ Brits work tirelessly hard – when this situation shows the exact opposite!

This type of BNP thinking is probably not far-out-of-line with two chefs that I sometimes work alongside in the basement kitchen. Both stocky, one looks over 30 the other just under, their talk about staff, is either your classic racist rhetoric or misogynistic. I’ve heard them say, the waitresses in the Brasserie get tips and are paid because they have tits and half-a-brain, but of course their tits is the sole reason (according to them). They also complain the kitchen cleaners and/or kitchen hands don’t do their job properly, and it’s due to the fact they are from “backward 3rd world countries”! Being from New Zealand I hope I’m alright; but they probably think that’s part of Australia (apparently the nation with the biggest ‘over-stayers’ with expired Visas in the United Kingdom) so probably not!

You cannot blame the Aussis, and all the other ex-pats, London is the ‘centre of the world’ – a lot is happening over here and everything seems so close. New Zealand is far away, and would be lucky to get Jay Z for example, whereas he is over for several festivals! However it must be said, ‘New Zealand is probably the best country in the world’ (there’s a facebook group I belong to), with an excellent standard of living. However, despite the pollution, bad weather, over-population, and even crime – London is a very cool place to be when you’re young!

I’m really young! Especially when 40 is the new 20! I’m approaching my mid 20’s but nothing about me would resemble this. Without a proper job, or no sense of a career; and my easy-going ‘take it as it comes attitude’, I’m not ready or concerned about growing up! Here I don’t have a lot (in monetary value), but I have my experiences and a great feeling – this is the most important thing to me . . . at the moment anyway!

Taking on this philosophy of getting out-there and seeing the world, I got a somewhat radical hair-cut. Rather than just cutting my long hair short, it was cut in an interesting manner. Interesting is the only way to go when Jasmine your Italian work colleague (who has shorter hair than any other guy in the establishment) runs a gallery in the arty suburb of Bethnal Green (near Brick Lane), and suggests I get a hair-cut by her business partner Francesco. So I did. Cut by this Italian who has worked in salons in Milan, Italy, but he will tell you this detracts from what his real creativity is personified as, since he is much more than just a hairdresser – Francesco is an artist. Whether it be: installing artistic pieces, putting together animated comic material, or just cutting hair – his creative tendencies means anything he does, he does with flair and intuition. Hence why he came to London; a place where he can express himself, be anything he wants to be, with the right to live as any representation he sees fit to uphold! This was the problem with Italy he says, it is a very narrow minded conservative society where only the rich can prosper, and there is little opportunity to break into ‘the market’. If you want to be successful you have to oblige by what the elite deem as acceptable, and to him this is repulsive and unacceptable!

So it was no suprise that my hair-cut took place technically outside the ‘Milk and Lead’ art-house, on the curb of the side-street, (this is the Italian way). And like my new type of hair-cut, my new type of friend Jasmine feels, it is your clothes and hair style that define who you are, well with my original hair cut, I must be fairly cool!