Mama Star. . .

. . . Has dreaded my head. That’s right I have dreads, well more accurately the beginning of dreads. According to Mama Star, they should look like regular dreads in about a month. Now that some of you are done gasping and have recovered from re-reading the above sentences several times, let me share something with you. I know that some of you reading this are thinking, “Oh, no that’s a terrible idea! This alternative, free spirited lifestyle has gone too far and now she is making poor decisions!” Let me respond to these thoughts with this: It’s just hair. It’s a very non-permanent part of me. It does not affect my love of life and family and friends or my decision making skills. It doesn’t affect my job (I don’t have one) or how I treat other people; and if it affects the way other people treat me than that is far from something that would bother me. It does, however, make showering a hell of a lot easier. I no longer have to sit on the scoop for twenty minutes with a bottle of conditioner and my brush de-dreaded my hair after an afternoon snorkel session. And if in several months I don’t like the dreadlock look anymore then I can cut my hair and rock the short, pixie cut for a little bit. My hair was started to annoy me and it was either getting chopped off or dreaded and I just happen to meet a charismatic woman named Mama Star that was more than excited to dread up such “long and pretty hair” (that last part should be read in a kind, belizian accent). And so it goes. . .
       I met Mama Star at her house actually. I was standing on the main street in Caye Caulker reading a sign that said “Ask for Star anywhere, specializing in braids, rasta, and french extension” and a friendly, half toothless guy on a bicycle asked if I was looking for Star. I started to explain, in my all too common overexplaining way that I do, that I just, you know, was thinking about it, not sure, kinda, you know debating whether I wanted to do dreads or not. While I was talking to this random guy on a bicycle, I started getting the all too familiar feeling that he wasn’t actually listening to me but just nodding his head in my general direction. After I was done with my long winded explanation of my hair, he replied with, “So do you want me to take you to Mama Star?” I looked at Conor, he smiled, and I said yes.
       That evening we headed into town and we ran into the bicycle guy, Gilbert, who took us to where Mama Star would start dreaded my head. It was a small hostel with a sandy, large yard with some hammocks and an outside kitchen with a small table and chairs. Star was waiting there for us along with the guy who was running the hostel, Robert. Although Star had mentioned earlier that she had been out partying the night before and was feeling a little rough she was the one who insisted on starting my hair that same evening, so I obliged, half thinking it was a now or never type of deal. So Star started pulling my hair into sections and teasing and twisting and threading my hair into tight, uniform shaped dreads as Con, Robert, and Gilbert sat around the table and talked and drank some rum. Their conversations ranged from uses of a good ladder to how to clean a sea turtle and how delicious the eggs are (Conor only listened to this part of the conversation seeing as how although he has some experience in killing and cleaning a wide range of animals, endangered species wasn’t on his list yet).
       Mike and Ted and Shannon showed up a few hours later and joined in the festivities. Shannon gave me encouragement and told me I looked awesome and the boys went and picked up some food for dinner. Robert had chopped up a delicious conch ceviche earlier in the afternoon and was down for all of us to cook in the outside kitchen. So as Star pulled and twisted the boys chopped some onion and peppers and grilled some meat on the open charcoal grill in the yard. As I sat in my chair and looked out onto a the backyard of a house in Belize and saw people, some I had just met, some I loved more than life, laughing and sharing stories and having an awesome night, I thought this experience will not soon be forgotten.
       Four hours later, with a little over half of the head done, Star was fading. I think her night of partying from yesterday caught up with her and she proposed that she finish my hair tomorrow. Now, considering that the part she had to finish was around my face and I wanted it to look good and not rushed, I whole heartedly agreed to meet her first thing in the morning to finish. The rest of the night was spent laughing and enjoying some grilled chicken and pork and the company of some very hospitable locals.
       Star met me the next morning bright eyed and eager to make me “look good, girl.” After almost another four hours, she was finished. I had dreads. Since that morning she has told me to come see her a few more times and she has “touched up” a few places to make sure that the hair forms well. She is a woman who takes pride in her work and I was grateful for the extra help and instructions. Thank you, Mama Star.
M.

Getting ready to go into town

Last, stand on the bow and throw your long hair into the wind as your husband snaps a photo, photo

                                     

"Knotting em up"

Robert and Gilbert cooking in the outside kitchen

Jonathon checking the charcoal grill

Mama Star and a dreaded up Meg