The Wink

Today I took three trains and walked six blocks to find a woman named Baby, owner of Baby's Beauty Salon. A Ghanaian, she has been in Vienna quite awhile, I think. But, like in Ghana, the bulk of her work is putting fake hair into people's heads, whether it's in the form of braids or flowing weave. One customer just beginning her four-hour journey from naps to waist-length braids warned me several times that the cold will ruin my hair. What? She also informed me over and over that black American women have "different" hair, not like Africans. It's because, chimed in Baby, of all the "mixture." (sigh) Okay. How about it could be because we don't put braids and weave in all of our lives.

After that conversation, it was time to move on. Next stop, Prosi, an "ethic"grocery store in the same neighborhood (District 7) as Baby's salon. (By the way, Baby's is a couple of short blocks from The Hip Hop Store, which houses Slam Dunk, where Nicholai got his hair cut by a Nigerian earlier this week.)

Prosi: AMAZING! There was kimchi and fufu and banku and kenkey and pork rinds; Guinness, Red Stripe and Star beers; Vita Malt ... The store, owned by Lebanese, has put a thorn in the side of some African businessmen who have opened a similar store with products from Africa. And they make it no secret on their web site that they think we should shop at a store owned by Africans. Nonetheless, the 7th district seems to have a lot going on culturally.

In another part of the city, my husband played softball on the Prater -- an enormous nature park once reserved for the royal court and aristocracy -- with a bunch of teachers from Vienna International School. Seems they became fumbling, bumbling players, especially my husband, when I arrived, so I left them to their ball grabbing, beer drinking, shit talking and headed to Naschmarkt, known for its spices, fresh vegetables, fish and numerous restaurants that line the periphery of the market. After wading through markets in Africa, Naschmarkt (yeah, that's how it's spelled) was organized and lovely. It's similar to Eastern Market in Washington, D.C., but not as gritty or fabulous as Eastern Market in Detroit . I'll post pictures.

A hefty bag of fruit and vegetables later, I headed home to enjoy the fruits of my labour! But before I could get to my door, I had to deal with more stares. Sometimes it's funny. I couldn't resist when one young man got caught staring at me and I gave him a wink. Embarrassed, he turn away.

Alison
23 August 2009
11:15 p.m.