Hair, There, and Everywhere

February 9th was Neptune Day, the day when you cross the equator. In an ancient tradition, Neptune Day transforms lowly pollwogs into Shellbacks (people who have crossed the equator). Some traditions include kissing a fish, getting fish guts spilled on you or even eating them, as well as head shaving. On other ships in other times, the hazing rituals were much more intense than what we did on the ship.

Here on the ship, we were woken up around 0700 with some members of the crew clad in (quite literally) bells and whistles proclaiming “Neptune Day!” At 0900 we assembled on Deck 7 aft (the back of the ship) for the ceremony. The captain of the ship, Jeremy, was painted green and dressed in a ridiculous robe as Neptune, king of the seas. In order to be initiated, you had to step up to the pool deck, get a foul liquid poured on you, kiss the fish, kiss the king's ring, bow to the queen, jump in the pool, and then be knighted as a Shellback when you emerge. I did all of those things.

I also shaved my head.

After becoming a Shellback was when the real mayhem began. The Royal Barbers (whose shirts crossed out Barbers in place of the more aptly-named Butchers) were lined up to snip off hair to a proper length and then to shave heads. While in line, a few of our friends had scissors of their own, cutting random portions of our hair to ensure no turning back. The hair hit the deck, mixed with the water, and made one of the grosses combinations of anything I have ever seen.

I made it to the cutting section, sat there, and got my head cut. It was by no means a professional haircut, nor was it supposed to be. Lots of pictures were taken, as well as video. I watched my hair falling down in front of me, as if my scalp was crying.

After my hair was to more manageable length, I waited in a second, shorter line for the actual shaving. I sat down in the chair and felt the warmth of the electric shear making contact with my hair. It hurt a little bit, probably because my hair had separation anxiety and didn't wanna let go. They didn't realize it would be easier for all of us if they just let it happen.

The shaving took around five to ten minutes, and when I emerged, I had no more hair. It was as if I had a day or two's worth of stubble on top of my head. It felt weird to put a shirt on, as well as passing any sort of fabric over it. Never really have had a shaved head before.

(The last time I had anything close to a shaved head was when I was 9 years old. I told the haircut lady I wanted a number 2, as opposed to saying the correct “number 2 on the sides and back, trim on the top.” As she began to buzz my hair, I froze, asked her if we could stop, but we obviously couldn't. The next day at school I wore my hood in class, which was of course met with a “please take off your hood, Jonathan”from the teacher. I remember slowly removing my hood in shame, feeling eyes burning my scalp lower than it already was, and getting some sort of Buzz Lightyear nickname for a week or two.)

A large amount of guys on the ship did it, and a fair amount of girls did it too!

The third step was to “Bic”it, referring to the Bic razor. I didn't do this, but Isaiah did. His head was so soft! But since it's been about a day it has grown back to a little more stubbly. We both plan on taking pictures of it every day and making a really cool youTube time-lapse presentation.

It's been really cold on the ship ever since I have no protective covering, keeping the warmth in. I am actually wearing a Moroccan beanie a friend lent me right now because it's so cold on the ship. My EARS were cold. I don't remember the last time my EARS were cold. I think I may get dumber too, since colder brain temperature would mean that the neurons and other chemicals will move and perform their processes more slowly, causing my speed of thinking and cognition to diminish. If I get bad grades, now you know why.

Before going on SAS, I was sure I was going to do it. Then when I got on the ship and the whole thing became a reality, I was like hell no. But I came around, and decided to do it. It's lots of fun, and we all are posing for a picture tonight at 1800 hours.

I look like a tough guy. I wear these sunglasses and make a face, and if I flex in the right light pattern and look buff, no one would want to mess with me. Except for my dumbo ears. I can also see why my hair gets higher in the back...my head has a nice slant up and then a WHOOP on the way back down, probably from years and years of facing away from the water in the shower or, more likely, years and years of wearing yarmulkes.

It will be fun watching it all grow back. I've always been a hair guy, and this is a new thing. Which is what this whole journey is supposed to be about: trying new things and making discoveries. I've discovered that cold weather is much more tolerable with hair.

In other news, we are heading toward Namibia and will get there on Saturday, which is also Valentine's Day. My plans for this country are stargazing in the desert and a seal and dolphin encounter. The weather outside is now hot, warm, nice, but also kind of sticky at times. I look out on the deck and it's hard to believe that this is school, but I HAVE started to do actual work. Which is actually what I decided to do when I came up here to the deck, but wrote this blog instead. Time to study.