He responded sharply, leaving me temporarily confused. "No, it's not an art form. Few people can really cut hair. It is a high art form."
他的反应很强烈,让我一时有些糊涂。“不,理发不是一种艺术形式,很少有人真正会剪发,这是一种很高的艺术形式。”
At this he lapsed into ebullient laughter again—and so did I, my suspicions gradually receding.
他又发出了一串串的笑声,我也笑了,我的怀疑慢慢被消除。
He began cutting my hair without once asking what I wanted, a common occurrence in my travels in the developing world. Nor did I try to direct him except to ask that he not cut it too short.
他开始给我理发,一次也没有问我想要什么样的发型。在发展中国家,这种事很常见。我也没去指挥他该怎么剪,只让他别把头发剪得太短了。
"Why do you cut hair outdoors?" I asked. "Is it too expensive to rent a shop?"
“你为什么在室外理发呢,租个店面很贵吗?”我问他。
He feigned huge offense. "Not at all," he said, now working the scissors across my bangs. "I have many, many clients. I have plenty of money for a shop. But why be a prisoner of walls? I prefer to be outdoors. I feel the wind and sun every day when I work. I smell the flowers of this tree." He then quoted a line from Ho Chi Minh: "There's nothing as good as freedom and independence. Nothing."
他假装做出被冒犯了的样子。“才不贵呢。”他说着并开始剪我的刘海。“我有很多很多的顾客,我的钱足够买下一个店,但为什么要被禁锢在几堵墙内呢?我喜欢在户外,每天工作的时候,我能感受到风和太阳,还能闻到这棵树的花香。”然后他引用了胡志明的一句话:“没有什么像自由和独立一样好。没有。”
Since his adolescence, the barber told me, all he'd wanted to do was cut hair. It was his one true passion. Even during the war he cut hair for his platoon. "
理发师告诉我,从青少年开始,他最想做的事就是理发。这是他真正的热情所在。就算是在战争时期,他也为他同排的战友理发。