I'm trying to recall properly, but I believe it was Lords of The Underground that was performing...yea, that's right.
It was during their set, after all the photos and footage I was interested in shooting, was shot, that I felt this tug to the back of my hair. Nothing abrasive, but definitely enough to get my attention. The last time I had this feeling, randomly enough, was when my former students in Japan used to sneakily pull at my curls during lunch time. Amazed they'd find them to coil, and their eyes would light up in wonder, on how Evita San's hair was like magic. I loved them for it.
I snapped back briskly, but without anger, to find this German boy, gazing into my eyes as though he'd hit puberty in that exact second. To keep it cordial, I laughed an honest laugh, and smiled. His response was telling.
'Thank you for not yelling at me,' he shouted over the music. 'I didn't mean anything bad by it. I just really like your hair. It's cool. Thank you for being a good sport about it.'
'Oh no worries. Thank you,' I responded.
It baffled me at first, because I simply don't take things like this personal. I've also lived in countries so foreign from anything remotely American, that over the years I know that my hair breeds a genuine curiosity in people, and yes many of them, want to touch it. I find it flattering honestly. In most cases, if someone asked to, I'd absolutely let them, and then laugh at their marvel, like I used to in Japan.
Googly eyes dug my non-chalance, and I dug his gratitude. I realized with most women I know, this could have easily escalated to an argument amongst foreigners, simply lost in translation.
I resisted the urge to let him know I really like getting my hair played with. German boys.
