Here are two pictures of my second haircut in Mazatlan, which took place on the dock between Sea Venture and the Beneteau next to us. The local barber, Luis, epitomizes the best of Mexico. He’s courteous, friendly, always smiling, desiring to please, grateful for the business. His daughter does manicures and pedicures, and they travel to RV parks and marinas (and who knows where else) serving those who can afford them — though for a pittance. Michael declined his services, as he has me to do the honors, but I have twice needed my ponytail trimmed. I sat on the dock on our small stool, donned a bib, handed over my comb, and showed him about how much to cut.
Luis chatted with me in Spanish; I struggled to get entire phrases past my lips, usually reverting to Italian instead. When he was satisfied, he turned to his bag, dug around a little. I thought he might be dragging out a hairdryer. I heard the buzz, then felt the vibration on my back, my neck, my shoulders, even my scalp.
For fifty pesos, or less than five dollars, I not only had my hair cut, but got a massage to go with it. That man got a hefty tip!!
