Scotland -- Day 17: Dyeing Eyelashes

That’s right – you can now have your eyelashes died and that’s just what Liz and I did yesterday.  For Liz, it was a restful interlude in the midst of a busy day.  For me, it was the only time I stirred from my bed, as I’ve managed to catch Zara’s cold – hardly a surprise with my batting average – just suggest you’re getting something and before you can exhale, I’ll have caught the bug – just my way of staying close.

Liz getting her eyelashes dyed.
Ignore the date/time stamp - I never could figure those out.

Anyhow, we went to our salon to have eyebrows waxed and eyelashes dyed, yes, dyed.  It felt very weird.  And I have to say that for me, the biggest success was managing not to cough or sneeze into the face of the woman so kindly tending us.

Indulging in such utter silliness put me in mind of a story told to my former law partner and I years back by an expert witness we had retained to testify about the phenomena of sexism in the work place.

Dr. Devika Malhotra talked extensively to Walt and I in our pre-trial preparations about the concept of culture and how the assumptions of culture, often unseen by those of living in its midst, shape our understandings of virtually everything.  Listening to Devika was like being in the classroom of a first-rate teacher (which she was and I hope still is).

My favorite example was from Devika’s own personal story: coming to the United States from India in the early 1960's, she prepared herself to go and look for a job.  So she bought herself some western-style clothes and tried them on for the judgment of a trusted American friend.  Her friend reassured Devika that all was well with the outfit.  “There’s only one problem,” said the friend.  “What?” asked Devika.  “You have to shave your legs.”  “Why,” asked Devika.  The friend’s reply is priceless: “I don’t know why; you just do.”

And that, Devika told us, is culture – the things you have to do even though no one knows why.

So here it is on a random Friday that I find myself in Scotland, sick with a cold, properly lying in my bed, but instead headed out to have my eyelashes dyed.

Why, you might ask.

The answer is I don’t know.

But I did.