Rosalie and some of the other little girls braided my hair into what feels like cornrows leading into a rat's nest of a ponytail. Obviously, I don't have a mirror, and when I asked Kristen how I looked, she just gave me a queasy smile. There is no getting a brush through this mess. If I can't wash it out at some point, I'll just try not to think about it until we get back to Port-au-Prince. My hairdresser back in Pittsburgh may have her work cut out for her when I return to the States.
And on that note, I see dinner coming out. Na oue pita!
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| Me holding Jayla while Rosalie (also tie-dyed) and her friends destroy my hair. Photo by Haiti H2O. |
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