There were a few things I was very worried about losing when I moved to Denmark. One of them was my “private” gym at the basement of the apartment building I lived in that was really meant for all the people living there, but which only I used regularly. Every now and then someone else would go, and once I even had to share it briefly while doing my own workout, but for the 1,5 years that I used it 2-3 times a week and for several years before that when I only went sporadically, I pretty much had it to myself. It was very basic, but it had what I needed and I absolutely loved the privacy. I hated the idea of having to go to an actual fitness centre after moving, and worse yet, a place where people predominantly spoke a language I don’t yet speak. I kept procrastinating about it for the first 5-6 months, but fortunately a colleague saved me at the start of this year by suggesting we start going together, and now it’s become a weekly habit I’d like to start doing twice a week if only I could find the time.

However, that’s not what I wanted to focus on today. Another “thing” I was loath to lose was Paula, my hairdresser for I don’t even know how many years. Some people love variety when it comes to hairdressers and flit from blossom to blossom, forever finding new flavours. Me, I want a relationship. Much like my friendships and romantic relationships, I tend to focus on only one person (or a handful, when it comes to friends), and I want it to last. I can’t remember when I first went under Paula’s scissors (or more often, knife), but she was the very first hairdresser in Oulu that I began to ask for by name. (I had a long-term relationship with a hairdresser in Raahe that took years to replace after I moved away.) But when she handled my wedding hairdo with such ease and grace, I knew I had found my match.

Every five to six weeks, pretty much like clockwork, we had an appointment and she would take me through red and brown phases, short and longer cuts, symmetrical and asymmetrical hairdos… We’d talk about what summer festivals we might visit the next summer, or what we might do for Christmas, or what was going on in our personal lives. She once came in early (like ridiculously early) in the morning just to fit me in when I had forgotten to make an appointment just before Christmas, and was in every way a total class act. I was sad to say goodbye to her, and horrified by the idea of having to try and find a replacement that could measure up in any way.

In Aarhus, I postponed finding a hairdresser for as long as I possibly could, but short hair demands attention a lot more often than long hair does, so I couldn’t avoid the issue forever. My first try was with a lady who didn’t speak English very well and who did an okay cut, but we were clearly on a different wavelength. I returned to her once to cut my fringe (she offered it free of charge, so I took advantage of that), but I had already decided I’d keep looking until I found one I was really satisfied with. Luckily for me, my second try was pure diamond.

I found Michael in a hair salon that was well hidden in a second-story space along a tiny alley that breaks away from a larger street barely a block away from where I work. He’s in his early twenties (I assume, haven’t asked), impeccably dressed in either all-black or black and white, thin as a whippet, skilfully coiffed and always with absolutely perfect manners. Every gesture seems somehow well planned, and while his English isn’t perfect, we communicate effortlessly. From the start we just hit it off. I explained to him what I wanted, he agreed and then somehow made it all his own, so that even though I had given the guidelines, he made the cut into a work of art all of his own design. The way he cuts hair makes me think of an artist working with a brush. He’s perfectly concentrated and he absolutely will not stop until he is satisfied with the outcome. And the way he gently but firmly moves my head to the angle he wants at any given moment is both mesmerising and somehow incredibly relaxing.

So no, he’s not Paula by any means, but he cuts my hair to perfection and we get along swimmingly. I was sold as soon as he got started the first time and aside from M and his truly lovely family, Michael has probably done more than anyone to make Aarhus really feel like home to me. It’s extremely rare for me to trust anyone to do anything to me without me trying to control the situation to at least some extent, but somehow he puts me completely at ease, and as a result, the salon he works in has become a true oasis of relaxation for me. (Admittedly the massaging chair I get to sit in when my hair gets washed helps.)

(Yes, I realise how bizarre it is that something like finding “the right” hairdresser can mean so much to a person, but there you go. When I tried to explain this to M the first time, he found it really amusing.)