TAG 30: Iroquois fighting dogs

07/29/2016

My efforts to get up at sunrise to surf a few waves without professional competition are shattered, just like the waves in the sand. Somehow I can't seem to get out of bed. My first surf attempt of the day is similar to yesterday's, not very successful, as I am simply outshined by the other truly outstanding surfers. A solution quickly arises: I have to somehow appear more intimidating. Since I can't go into the water with a fighting dog (although hmm... it might be nice if one could pull me), I quickly realize that it is time to let go of my hair.

Amazingly, I don't have to convince Gudi for long and so the woman who was given the blame by some of my friends for the fact that I didn't have a bald head earlier, cuts my hair herself. Initially, we only leave the hair in the middle to see what a mohawk looks like. But since this turns out to be funny in some way, and I care even less about my appearance in the farthest corner of Asia than in Vienna, I decide to leave the last bit as well. At home, I will probably have no choice but to shave my head to avoid causing shock or worse among the elderly society.

The hairstyle, or its psychological effect in my subconscious, actually causes me to be taken more seriously in the lineup - that is, out there with the waves - and I slowly but surely manage to surf one or two waves.

On the way back, I bargain with one of the many street children for a coconut, which is then opened in front of my eyes by a seven-year-old stray with a machete - fortunately without incident. Gudi takes the opportunity to photograph herself with the fruit in various situations, probably to bring a bit of tropical feeling to the very ocean-rich photo background.

My hairstyle is quite popular with the locals, so a boy even asks me to cut his hair as well, to which I would have been willing - but he never comes to our house.

Otherwise, the days pass relatively monotonously, reading, writing, and surfing - interrupted only by sleeping and eating in the meantime.

Gudi's glorious laws

Matthias, don't leave your surfboard outside!

Gudi quickly identifies the local children, who mostly just wander around all day, as potential thieves, so she is always very eager not to leave any valuables on our porch. Naturally, I take a more relaxed approach and believe in the goodness of people, or in the fact that I can always find those little bastards in the beach community anyway. From a rational standpoint, Gudi - as often is the case - is probably right here too, which doesn't prevent many of her suggestions (not to say rules) from being difficult for me to adhere to.