I’ve been in barber shops on many streets around the world, Western and Eastern, rich and poor, peaceful or tormented by social or political unrest, and each time I had the same strange feeling of stepping into another dimension. The barber shop has this magic ability to freeze the world, stop the violence, trim frustrations and shave off the anger. People go to have their hair cut or fixed or get shaved in what they feel are the most important moments of their lives: before Christmas, Easter, Ramadan or Hanukah, before getting married, before graduation or even before burial. Be it on the Gange’s bank or in Jericho, in Havana or Sharjah, Antakia or Kathmandu, the simple act of entering a barber shop has the same universal effect. You feel at peace with yourself. You leave your problems and frustrations aside and the barber suddenly becomes your friend. It’s like kind of a ritual. A barber doesn’t need much to build up this ivory tower. In Varanasi, on the bank of the holy Ganges River, a chair and a fabric canopy was everything a barber needed to create his magic place. Just a little farther the ash of the deceased was being thrown into the muddy waters. In Portugal, the barber shop is where soccer fans gather. In Turkey or Palestine it’s a place where one can have a cup of tea and a relaxed chat with a perfect stranger. I always feel the change after leaving the barber shop. The barber has the power to remove not only your surplus hair, but also the futile rumble in your mind and soul.