My 2nd Life

Gaillard - Rainbow Nation

The long awaited phone call of the company announcing that the technician to repair the hot water supply in my appartment requires my presence cut the working day short. I rush back home, leaving the office at a time when my schedule is normally still full of meetings. And indeed, the technician is in time. And he is quick: at 5.10 pm. the job is done and I have to decide what to do with the rest of the day which is so unexpectedly left to me. The mirror convinces me that it is high time for a hair cut. At Place Porte de France in Gaillard, just next to the border crossing of Moillesulaz, there is a high density of hair dressing saloons. The one I have chosen to be my favourite is mainly

catering to a male clientel in their 20ies and 30ies of North African origin. My personal hairdresser, however, is hailing from Kosovo. Many years back, he used to live in Duesseldorf and, thus, takes advantage of my irregular visits to practice his rosty German. This afternoon Salim gets his new haircut. I arrive when the final touches are due. But Salim turns out to be a demanding client proposing improvements left, right, and center of his "grosse tete arabe" - although there is hardly any hair on it left. Thus, it takes much longer than I had anticipated before I am invited into the big chair. In the meantime - and in the absence of any yellow press which distracts waiting customers - I keep discussing with my hairdresser and an ever increasing crowd of bystanders the disappearance of the Berlin Love Parade (www.stern.de/lifestyle/reise/deutschland/510381.html?eid=510210) and the advantages of going to the gym in either France or Switzerland. Every now and so often, someone walks in and greets us. That could happen in any single or combination of the following languages: French, Albanian, English, Arabic, and others I fail to recognize. Electric shavers and hair dryers add to the noise but, as the majority of those present belong neither to the personnel nor the clients of the saloon, can't really hamper the multiple ongoing conversations. Meanwhile, letters and messages are being dropped by some and picked-up by others. As the terrasse of the saloon is conveniently shared with that of a teashop, it seems the ideal meeting point for anyone who has either just or intends to cross nearby border, especially on a warm summer afternoon like today.

When I leave the saloon an hour later I realize that it already is past 6. I venture towards Fatoumata's African grocery shop to re-stock my essential supplies of Maggie cubes, okra, sweet potatoes and foufou. At this hour service levels at Fatoumata's are low: The TV set inside the shop shows the 266th episode of "Le Destin de Lisa" (http://www.ledestindelisa.com/episode266.htm) and absorbs most of the attention of the patrons and clients present. It is worth mentioning, and today's shopping turned out to be no exception, that this daily soap has greatly enhanced my standing in the neighbourhood. "Le Destin de Lisa" has been able to convince its audience that the Germans as the true latin lovers of the modern age! Content of myself I return home to my appartment overlooking the Place Porte de France adding up the successes of the day: a new haircut, groceries and the first hot shower in several days.

Ma France a Moi 

(http://fr.youtube.com/watch?v=C9MB__yu-SQ)

Enjoy!