Old news for some

March 23

We went to McCleod Ganj today and circumambulated the Dalai Lama’s temple. I believe tomorrow is the last day of his teachings, but as we came close to the temple, we could hear him talking and chanting. So many Tibetan monks are here now with their burgundy robes on. Everyone who does not understand Tibetan is wearing head phones in order to hear the radio broadcasts in different languages. We went to visit an old friend of Margi’s who works at a beauty parlor and got Margi’s head shaved so that the remaining scraggles of hair are gone and then, we got MY head shaved so that she is not alone. My ears stick out a bit, but we are two of a kind. It was a fun experience and Margi is really really happy about it. She appreciates it exactly the way I thought that she would, which of course makes it worth all the odd growing out phases to come. Unfortunately, I can feel the cold more thoroughly at night without hair. I can’t stop touching my head. How bizarre that it is me. I almost feel as if I will wake up tomorrow morning and have the same hair that I woke up with this morning. We are keeping it a secret for the time being. We all think that it will be well worth the shock value and the look on Dad’s face when he comes in a couple weeks. Margi and I are having a race to see whose hair will grow back more quickly. I am afraid that I have a bit of an advantage over her… Brrr… I wish I had flannel sheets… Haven’t longed for those in a while! Another benefit to me having shaved my head is the fact that now Margi is associating the tingling and prickling on her head with the fact that she is bald and not the chemicals coursing through her body. Because, of course, I am having a similar experience.



I wrote this a month ago, but chose not to share it until now as we thought it would be fun to have a surprise waiting for Dad (Jackie) when he came to visit. It is warmer at night now and my head has become a big fuzzball. I am debating whether to go ahead and face the awkwardness to come or to delay it another month by shaving my head again. Either way, I am clearly winning the grow-out race. I wish that our hair would grow together, but I am confident that it is only a matter of time before she catches up. It is interesting to look back at the pictures. In some, all you can see is Rosie’s brown hand against the white skin of a freshly shaven head. With no face in the photo, the only way you can tell us apart is by the color of our own skin. Where she is golden, I am rosy. She has gotten a henna tattoo covering the whole of her head. It really is beautiful. Too bad it has been so rainy this past week. She hides the design beneath a scarf.