Hodaya Twito

Artist & Blogger

An optimistic curly girl who likes a simple art, visual lifestyle. 
Sharing my thoughts and insights about life and art lifestyle in particular.
Working on connecting to myself and my feelings, 
that’s the hardest thing for me to do.
Welcome to my life’s journey.



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I don’t wash my hair

In India, many amazing magical things happened.
It was my first serious trip, and overall the second time I flew abroad, before that I spent a week in Barcelona with my sister Hannah. (Who I wrote the post I learned an important lesson from my sister)
In India, I learned to manage without a family and familiar environment for four months, I knew and admired a different, colorful, and joyful culture.
I realized that we, the tourists, had ruined for the Indians the naivety that the place had to offer. (I think I’d like to talk about this in more detail sometime)
I learned to deal with religion. I mean, my family is religious, it’s the only way I knew from home. In India, I had the optionality to ask questions and decide that, after all – yes, religion is a good fit for me. I’m loving it.
And of course, I learned to listen to my hair, to myself.

A little background on us the Israelis people:
Here, in Israel everyone must enlist in the military at 18, right after high school, unless there is a postponement of recruitment or a complete exemption.
The boys are recruiting for three years and the girls for two years, you can do more, but that’s the minimum.
After the release from the army, there is a thing that many Israelis travel to the so-called “the big trip” or “the post-military trip”, usually the trip lasts several months, the destination is to the east, it is very cheap there compared to Israel. Then when you return to Israel, you start thinking about college or university studies and what to do with life.

So in August 2014, I flew to India to my not very much post-military trip (I was twenty-two, relatively old, in Israel’s liberated concepts), and this is where the turning point in my life began, the point where I began to open up for change and try.

It happened when we were in the middle of the trip, sort of. The first shock, that you get when you arrive at a new place is past and you start to feel comfortable like you’re like more locals people.
I was with Adar, my forever besti, and Tal, a nice girl we met and like already at the beginning of the trip and stayed together right to the end.
We arrived at Pulga, a village in the Parvati Valley.

*The Parvati Valley is so named after the Hindu Parvati goddess and also there’s crosses a river of the same name. The central village of the valley is Kasol, from which go out to small villages in the valley: Pulga, Kalgh, Tosh and Khir Ganga. These small villages are characterized mainly by their calm and tranquility and earn a living from little tourism, farming, and growing cannabis.*

When we were there the road was not yet paved for vehicles and we walked about an hour to the village. The walk is pleasant, a little uphill but not something you can’t handle, the road was beautiful, as I remember, today I realized that paved a road there.

The road to Pulga is full of green. 2014

We decided to fit in, because this is how everyone moves in India, we had no recommendations or anything about where to sleep, so we chose a guest house that seemed to us with the most beautiful view of the whole village, probably not by chance 😉

When we arrived at Guest House, BoomShankar, there were already a few Israelis and some tourists.
We took a room, although we quickly realized that it didn’t matter where we slept, we felt right at home.
The first evening was mostly acclimatization and rest, so we didn’t talk with the others, just a little kind of manners and talking like where you came from and how long you were here.
The next day we were nicer and we started to open up.
The Guest House is run by one nice family in which grandmother, father, and four children live, one of whom is married with children.
The married nurse lives down in the village, I can’t remember her name, and the truth is that I also discovered her, in terms of the person she is, relatively late, unfortunately. The second nurse who helps with cooking and tree-cutting from the forest, her name is Ema, the third son runs the guest house, his name is Rama, and the fourth son mostly wandering and studying and busy being the little boy, his name is Prince, not sure it’s his real name, and he already has a wife (I think) and a boy (for sure).

Anyway, I’ll focus my story because I see that I’m a little scattered and remembered as I write.
Although we were in Pulga something like almost a month in aggregate, out of four months I traveled, a lot happened there and this is the first place I think of when I remember on this trip.
I will focus on the hair story because that’s why we’re here.
I will leave the experiences from Pulga and India in general, to another post.

The viewpoint on Polega from the guest house we were at. 2014

Shir and Meirav are a couple like there are in the movies. When we first met them Meirav was fourth-month pregnancy, today it is probably that the child is almost six.
The nights were getting cooler and every evening we were with a guitar, singing around the fireplace. Shir was sing and look into Meirav eyes from across the room, and in response she would look at him with a smile and sing quietly, with great love, only the fire of the fireplace lighting up the beautiful faces.
Meirav have smooth, healthy, shiny, lush, strong hair. it seems to be very strong and stable hair.
One day we asked her what the magic was, she simply answered that she was doing nothing, we tried again to ask a little different, but the answer stayed the same.
Once a month she overlaps, besides she just doesn’t do anything, sometimes she’s washing the hair with water.
We were in shock, no way! I’m not talking about the hair being smooth, I’m talking about it looking just good, pretty, and healthy.
Tal and I decided to try, Adar gave up the pleasure.
The real difficulty, as with anything when deciding on change, is the beginning.
It turns out that in the beginning the hair removes all the dirt that accumulates on the scalp, and believe me that there is a lot of, then the hair will become oily and sticky this is the horrible part, again especially in the scalp, and finally, the hair settles and gets used to its new condition.

The real difficulty was the beginning. My oily hair in the first two weeks of rehab.

Such a detox process from all the shampoos and conditioners that been in the hair all these years.
Meirav told us that this process of adaptation takes time, at least two months, but also added with reservations that each according to his own hair.
I got out dust off my hair, I swear.
The hair was so sticky it was awful, not to mention the smell…
I combed every day to help spread the oily on all the hair and not just on the hair root, it turns out that it’s call preening. The hair has fallen out so much that I was scared that by the end of the adjustment I would be left with nothing.
Usually, when I’m about to new beginning, I get all excited, then when the passion fades in most cases, I just abandon what I got myself. But here I didn’t quit, not knowing why. The truth I even surprised myself with, as if I had insisted.
I remember thinking that I had another month left in India, which meant I would be back home before the adjustment process was over. I wondered what it would be like.
Later in the trip, there were no special incidents and the truth that I didn’t mind so much, I just did not wash the hair.
At one point we left Pulga and continued to travel, there were other places we wanted to see.

my somehow smooth hair is starting to adjust to the new situation.

I don’t remember much exactly what was going on there, but we did arrive at Dharamkot, which is in Dharamsala, and the date of return to Israel already kissed us on the home front.
Adar had to come back because she started university, and I, who had no commitments to Israel, after many hesitations to continue traveling alone because “It is not me” I extended in two months, with the help of Adar’s convictions that I was already here and should not give up the experience, and from Tal’s promises that we will continue to travel together, I traveled for a total of four months.
Towards the end of the trip, we took a two-day train to the south, to Goa.
And Goa it’s beaches, Bitchs. 😉
Every day at the beach every day to wash the hair. Sometimes I just washed in the water and sometimes I probably did use shampoo and conditioner.
The truth in India my pony was really smooth and the hair is quite wavy, probably the climate or whatever.

When I came back to Israel I told my family about the experiment I was doing with the hair, they thought I had lost it completely. We are all in a family with curly hair (I had flowing hair until the fifth grade and then it changed, something odd), not taking care of curly hair at all, even just shampoo or conditioner, out of the question. But they flowed with me, what other choice do they have?

Over time I found out that there is a whole NO POO world. I just wanted pretty hair, but I found that there was a statement – shampoo and conditioner is shit- natural is best for us. Whatever. When is this beautiful hair coming?
The truth is, that took this a long time, it also changed a lot in the way. from wavy and harmless hair, has become a jumping and wild mane.
But come on, I’m not that saint. I dyed my hair and also tried all sorts of things like apple cider vinegar, honey, lemon, egg, olive oil, shampoo and conditioner from the expensive nature store for the price of ten simple shampoos at the normal super. In addition to all that, hair and its scent is also about good diet, and if it’s bad- hair also.
So even though the hair didn’t work out the best for me, I continued. I knew that the dry part was the edges, the top layer exposed to the sun, and the healthy part was the roots and hairs in the layer below.
The truth I was pleased. There is a good change here that I brought about myself.
Since then, there have been cases where I have washed my hair normally or tried all kinds of oils and stuff again, but in the end, I always came back to the conclusion that naturally works the best, without all the shit people are trying to sell.
Today, almost six years later, once a week for Saturday, the Jewish rest day, I wash my hair well in the sink, with my head upside down and massaging my scalp with my fingers, helping the blood flow and hair growth, sometimes combing my hair and sometimes giving up this pleasure.
There are also cases that I wash more than once a week, all according to how the hair feels to me, no exact formula. Or actually, it’s the exact formula.

I still have dropouts, to be honest, but it has diminished significantly, he reasons are not always just unhealthy hair. As I said before, it can be a bad diet or anemia (like me) or just shitty weather, a season change, and stuff.
Anyway, I’m satisfied, satisfied with the main conclusion: Don’t say no to the changes. Try, at best you will succeed, at worst you know you at least tried.

Hair today, 2020, after all the hardships he went through (:

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