I am in African braiding hair salon in Harlem. Goodbye Afro. The shop is shared with a Latin barber shop. Spanish music is playing in the background. The Muslim women kneel in separate corners in prayer. Other women are selling clothes, make up & food. A Brotha came in selling earrings, another toothpaste. LOL! An Asian woman came in trying to sell Black people bootleg DVDs. Go figure. A lot going on in here...

The African women are loud and spirited, as are Black American women when we gather. They are however, seemingly more animated. They laugh heartily, talk all at once and very loud. Their language is foreign. Their spirit is familiar...

Uh oh, a Black American Sistah is going off because her braids, which are BEAUTIFUL, don't "look like the picture". I understood that. LOL! My African Sistahs however are holding their own, defending their Sister and her intricate corn row work. It looks like art work. It really does. I want to defend her too but I dare not! Staying in my lane! LOL!

4.5 hours later and voila, I am done! The joint is quiet. Most have left. Two customers remain. The now pleased Black American woman and a young Latina woman who has never had braids before. Her scalp is killing her, she wonders how she will sleep tonight and tells me she has to be to work at Nordstrom Rack at 5am. Lord, she didn't say Nordstrom Rack? My weakness. I need not know that there is one here... I tell her sleep won't come easy tonight but assure her that she will be fine in a day or so...

Back into the Harlem streets. Wish I could find in this "city that never sleeps", somewhere to get a pedicure and eyebrow wax at 11pm. Not likely... I might walk home but as it is a little late, I'd better bus it...


Goodnight Folks!