From the time I was born until I was six, my mother always combed my hair and braided it into two thick braids. Every morning, she would take turns doing my sister’s and my hair while we sat between her legs. Now I realize that was quality time. She took her time and with the patience of an angel, she carefully combed our hair. My sister’s hair was 10 times thicker than mine, but I never heard my mother complain. So I never questioned whether my hair was good or not. Until I was 20, I didn’t even know there was such a thing as “bad hair.”
In the picture: My sister Tineke and I
From the time I was born until I was six, my mother always combed my hair and braided it into two thick braids. Every morning, she would take turns doing my sister’s and my hair while we sat between her legs. Now I realize that was quality time. She took her time and with the patience of an angel, she carefully combed our hair. My sister’s hair was 10 times thicker than mine, but I never heard my mother complain. So I never questioned whether my hair was good or not. Until I was 20, I didn’t even know there was such a thing as “bad hair.”
When I was seven, I went to the hairdresser by myself to cut my hair short. Don't ask me why exactly. Once I heard the adults talking and my mother saw that I was more of a boy compared to my sister. I didn't care much for combing hair and that's why it would be better if I had a little bang.
I didn't make a big deal about my hair. Because of all my playing around it was always messed up and that was okay with me. As long as I was having fun. Still, I always loved sitting between my mother's legs while she did my hair.
From what I can remember it was always a special and warm feeling. While she was busy, all kinds of stories came out. About school, food, family, funny events, you name it. I often sang Surinamese songs too. I can even remember practicing the first lines of Wan Bon, the poem by Dubru, while she braided my hair. On the quiet days my mother always hummed a song that I didn't know.
Now that I think back it was more than quality time, I think these braiding sessions were building blocks for the close bond with my mother.
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The day I came home from school with a short haircut, my mother nearly fainted. I could see in her eyes that she couldn't believe that I had just gone to the hairdresser and gotten my hair cut without telling anyone. She also couldn't believe that the hairdresser had cut my hair without an adult present who had given permission.
I knew I had done something wrong because she looked disappointed. My mother said she was afraid my hair would never grow that long again and she thought that was a shame. I didn't like the idea either, but that was it. Instead of two big braids in the morning, she would make a whole bunch of small braids in the evening for me, so my hair would look nice when I went to school the next day.
My mother did this until I was at the MULO school. In the meantime I could already do those little braids myself, but of course it was much easier if my mother did it. Actually that was just pure laziness, no laziness. I also really liked it between my mother's legs. While she did my hair I watched TV.
The funny thing is when I look back now and listen to other stories, I can understand the conversation of the adults back then. Where other girls learned to do their own hair so that their mothers wouldn't do those old-fashioned hairstyles, I really didn't worry about my hair. Most girls couldn't wait to do their own hair. Not me. I didn't jump at the chance. In that respect, I wasn't really a girly girl, but I think that the media and image formation also had an important influence.
In the 70s, afro was the name of the game. In every American TV series like Different Strokes, you had a great afro like Willes'. Especially that series with Pam Grier in the lead role was great. On top of that, all Surinamese buses had at least one woman with a big afro painted on them. Who wouldn't want an afro in such an environment? Even my Dutch aunt with straight blond hair had an afro wig. I think that's how the love for the afro started and I don't think it ever went away.
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