The Mane Event

Before coming to China, I had wanted to have one final haircut however as crunch time approached, I found myself counting every penny and even begging for a few off my loved ones too. Suffice to say spending between £10 and £20 on a haircut was no longer feasible.

So I got to China and as expected within two weeks, I started to look like one of those Hell's Angels albeit without the motorcycle, leathers or beard - on facial hair, its probably better to let it grow out as having a wet shave here is proving to be the most arduous task of my weekly routine! The water that comes out of the taps is cold, and although there is a red dot on the left of the tap it only runs hot for about five seconds before returning to its default setting, cold. For the guys reading this they will feel my pain of shaving with cold water, while the girls will think I am a wimp of course and tell me to be thankful of the fact I will never experience childbirth... I have started to boil water with a kettle but it seems to manage to get through the plug in the sink so shaving is now a race between me and the hot water! Anyway, I digress...

So after being here four weeks, I plucked up the courage to go get my haircut. I was genuinely terrified, what would I end up looking like? So I grabbed my phrasebook (completely useless as they are), stuck a photo of myself with short hair on my iPod (other MP3 players are available) and asked for a translation in Chinese characters from my friend to show the hairdresser and then made my way to Jason's Hair Salon.

I walked in, everyone turned to look at me, I began to question whether I had walked into a salon in the East or a saloon in the West...

Three hairdressers jumped me like they all wanted a go on my hair, I showed them the photo on my generic MP3 player and the Chinese text I had which said something along the lines of - "short on the sides, slightly longer on top". They nodded, to my relief as this meant the phrasebook could remain my pocket, result!

I had my hair washed and then was sat down in front of a mirror, the hairdresser looked at me and smiled - I wasn't smiling back though, just panicking. He started to cut the back and sides, all looked good. He started on the top and within a few seconds he was finished but it was too long, what do I do? My generic MP3 player was in my coat and that had been taken away and hung up. I used the universal (or at least I think it is) sign for scissors and mimed my hair being cut some more. He looked perplexed, what did I mean? I tried another approach, pointing at his scissors and then the penny dropped. He carried on and then after a couple of minutes looked at me to say he was finished, no the fringe is too long! I mimed again, and he aggressively (probably wishing he hadn't been so keen to cut the weird foreigners hair) carried on and took half an inch off the fringe. It was still too long, but I couldn't be bothered miming anymore and just accepted it as it was.

I went to pay, the total was a whopping 25RMB (£2.50) - at that price I guess I cannot complain. I was going out that night and was pleasantly surprised to find that my hair looked alright (once I had put some product in it)! See for yourself:-

A couple of fellow TEFL teachers and me (no longer a hell's angel) 

Apologies for this somewhat metrosexual blog about my haircut, the next one will be on football and motorsport (well....probably not). Oh and I hoped you like the Eastern salon/Western saloon gag (I did)....