14 Days of Weihnachtsmarkt: Day 13

|Langos|

On December 13, I had officially gone three months without a haircut. I did this on purpose. You see, on previous visits to Deutschland, I witnessed many young and confident men enter into the arms of well-trained and well sought after Turkish barbers, only to emerge from the shops as neutered, docile slumps of men, bearing haircuts they wished they had never gotten. The barbers had one way. One cut. They weren’t afraid to put that cut on any man sitting in their chairs, regardless of what was actually desired. Naturally, this terrified me. Before arriving for my studies, I now knew what these men were capable of, and I wanted to avoid it for as long as possible. But as we all know, forever never comes. So that night, I was to get a haircut with my girlfriend Victoria’s brother, Phillip.

Phillip knew a guy named Mohammed, who came from Syria as a refugee. Originally from Sudan, Mohammed worked in Syria due to their greater development. He had to leave once the city of his employment was essentially destroyed. Two years later, he now makes a living in Germany, knows the language fully and is integrated in every way, taking care of his wife and staying in contact with his family across the world (he even has a brother who lives in Texas. That night (after the Langos, which I will get to), Phillip and I made our way to Mohammed’s apartment. It was after working hours but Mohammed routinely cut hair in his apartment until almost midnight. It was a passion born of necessity. Upon entering we were treated to tea and cookies, and Mohammed’s cat wouldn’t stop laying on my lap (I was okay with that though). As I waited for my turn, new guys kept coming in, one after the other, all waiting for a nice freshie. Seeing Mohammed work, spending at least 20 to 25 minutes on each customer, I now understood how he came to work so late on a regular basis. The man took his time. Then, it was my turn.

All signs pointed to Mohammed being my “hair guy” in Germany, so I prayed that I wasn’t in for the same treatment as all those men I remembered. Luckily, I wasn’t. Aside from having a battle with him over whether or not to physically shave in the line for my part (eventually having to tell him my girlfriend wouldn’t like it just so he would accept), he trimmed me up real nice, offering all sorts of masks and treatments all free of charge. I said this to him then, and I still think it now: the man is an artist. I once got a haircut in new jersey that was so bad, I had to get another haircut two days later just to fix it. Never again. Mohammed is my new guy.

As for the Langos, the Hungarian fried dough topped with sour cream and cheese I ate just before getting the hair cut, it was pretty good. Really filling and a nice vegetarian option. I was happy that something so simple could be so satisfying. But then again, that’s not very surprising at the Weihnachtsmarkt. Here’s hoping they one day serve whatever tea Mohammed served, though, because that stuff was next level.

Langos Scores

Taste  🎄🎄

     Price  🎄🎄🎄

 Fullness 🎄🎄🎄 

Haircut Score

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄