After weeks and weeks of massage and pressure point therapy, I went back to the doctor who had sent me to the therapist. Clearly the pain in my upper leg was from a worse condition than we all originally thought, so she ordered an MRI for the next afternoon.
Going back home to Shenzhen seemed a bit silly, so Dan booked me a hotel room near Lan Kwai Fong. I was in Hong Kong alone for the night (Dan was in Shanghai on business) and found myself wandering the streets, writing, and talking to strangers.
I heard live music when I was walking back to my hotel room. I went inside and discovered Afrosonic Orchestra, a project led by Theo Croker. (They were fabulous!)
Mr. Croker has a Wikipedia page.
(And holy crap! I just realized he's younger than me!)
And basically, I fell in love with Theo's dreadlocks (and the dreads on the other trumpet player, but I can't figure out who he was...).
I went back to my room, found a really mean email in my inbox, tearfully called my mom in America (and scared her to death, but in the end she made me feel all better -- of course!), and then left the room for some water (my mouth was en fuego from my super-hot felafel wrap). I found a wine bar that was still open at 2 AM and only serves California grapes and made a new friend from San Francisco.
That's when the seed was planted. (I like that all of these memories, good and bad, are tied together and stuck in my hair.)
I had my MRI the next morning (and later found out my hip had cracked a bit when part of my hamstring tore off it), and told Dan over the phone, "I want dreadlocks." He had left me alone for several days; he wasn't surprised that I had come up with some new crazy idea.
I'd spent all morning browsing the web for pictures and information and started this collection on Pinterest (and it keeps growing, so follow it if you wanna!):
Clicking the image will take you to my All Things Dreadful collection.
See all of my other Pinterest boards here.
I found a salon in Hong Kong that didn't want 8000 HKD (?!) and got backcombed and twisted the next week. (It was kind of an emergency; I left for Ireland the next day, and it seemed like a good milestone to do something extreme.)
Wee cows in Ballyclare, Northern Ireland.
Seven hours of torture later, I was waxy and knotty. And it's one of the best decisions I've ever made! (Going blonde was a good one, too.)
(Part Two, now here, is where I found someone in Shenzhen who offered to make them look way better!)