I have become even more aware that Spanish ≠ Italian lately. Sometimes I think Mikey tries to convince me (not on purpose) that it's closer than it really is. And I always believe him because he's the smartest boy I know.
On our second full day in Bologna we went grocery shopping. We needed shampoo among other things, but I was desperate to wash the hotel shampoo out of my hair (Mikey: You washed your hair this morning at the hotel. Why are you so anxious to get shampoo? Me: It's precisely because I washed my hair at the hotel this morning, with hotel shampoo, that I'm anxious to get shampoo.)
We were at a small market within the city walls, a few minutes walk from our place. It has a limited selection, but all the essentials. Mikey grabbed a bottle of balsamo off the shelf.
"Here you go," He told me, "Balsamo must mean shampoo." I thought it my head, He must be right. He does know Spanish after all.
The next morning I showered and washed my hair. When I squirted the balsamo into my hand I thought "How creamy. . ." but thought maybe it was some sort of two-in-one deal because we couldn't find any bottles that said anything besides balsamo on them.
I used it every time I showered for a week. My hair was heavy, and strangely greasy. New climate, I supposed.
I told Mike how gross my hair felt and he confessed that he too had been bothered by our "shampoo." He told me he had been using a bar of soap (um, yuck) to wash his hair because his didn't have enough "body" with my "girl shampoo" (psh . . .).
So I Google it.
balsamo = conditioner.
Hello silky soft hair. After "washing" my hair with conditioner for a week, when I finally got real shampoo and washed it yesterday, it was the softest my hair has been since I was pregnant.
Maybe I'll be a grease ball once a month to maintain my silky-smoothness?