Of Haircuts as a cultural experience & the Symbolish therein

"Why are most hairdressers men?" I asked him, looking around the busy shop, a whirl of scissors, blow-dryers, and conversation.

"Because men and women have different ideas of beauty." He said this as if it was the most obvious truth in the world, which it may in fact be.

"But then," I pursued, "Shouldn't more women be hairdressers, if they care more about their hair?"

"Ah," and he said this as if sharing a great secret, "But women style their hair for men."


Leaving the truth of that statement up to debate, I might also have liked to tell him that there are vastly different ideas of beauty between cultures, and ours, sadly, did not coincide.

But I didn't, mainly because he was so vastly pleased with his handiwork. And handiwork is probably the right word—he treated this as something he designed, and not only that, went over every strand of hair at least 5 times. I didn't count the number of times he exclaimed that this haircut is simply perfect! I just writhed internally, and glanced at the clock out of the corner of my eye.

"You'll stop all the passersby in their tracks," he said. (Word-for-word translation: "You'll have a 100% head-turning-rate", which he had to explain to me.)

I was pretty dubious of this. Either it was enthusiastic flattery, or he genuinely believed that this was the best haircut ever. Or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his glasses had no lenses. Was this literary symbolism for the fact that all men were in fact blind as bats and didn't give a damn for what your hair looked like? If my life were a novel, then yes, I think it was.

One Mao, Two Mao

Yesterday I bought a newspaper and a juice box for 0.50RMB, or the equivalent of $0.07. The newspaper turned out to be mostly detritus, and the juice I haven't tried yet—this same juice was the suspected culprit in a friend's food poisoning in Pingyao. Little yellow berries, shall I risk you?

Things you can get for twice that (or $0.14): A Suntory Oolong tea and a copy of The New Beijing Newspaper; a ride on a bus without A/C; a bag of popcorn; half a roasted yam.

Some prices in comparison:

> Imported box of Kellogg's cereal 50 RMB ~ $7
> Sony battery charger and 4 rechargeable batteries 170 RMB ~ $21
> Meal in the cafeteria 3.50 RMB ~ $0.44
> An extravagant feast for nine-ten people 600 RMB ~ $75
> My weekly commute 40 RMB ~ $5
> A flimsy new bike 180 RMB ~ $23
> Santa costume 36 RMB ~ $4.5

* Not all of these are my purchases. Some of them are just observations, like the cereal. I'll leave you to wonder whether or not I bought a Santa costume :>

smokin' monks

...China has 300 million smokers; maybe in hell they're smoking paper tobacco? But given that Buddhism has 84,136 hells, I'm not sure if folks down there are smoking or being smoked.

Nánpǔtuó's studious monks aren't so sure either. I asked one, "Who goes to Buddhism's 84,136 hells?"

He said, "Anyone who does anything wrong." He pondered this a bit, and added with a wry smile, "Everyone, I guess."

"Is there a Buddhist heaven?" I asked.

"Of course," he said.

"Who goes there?" I asked.

The monk thought a little, and said, "Just a minute." He pushed his Gandhi spectacles back up on his nose, flipped back and forth through the pages of a massive, musty volume, and after a few minutes said, "No one has ever asked me that. I'll have to get back to you."

From: http://www.amoymagic.com/nanputuo1.htm

A rather depressing article about the state of panda conservation in china

Seed Magazine: "Black and White and Desired All Over"

Sometimes—when I read something like this, when I am in a bus going through the city—I can feel, so sharply, all these problems and conflicts that China is facing. It's so like China, isn't it? To want more UNESCO sites, more panda bears, more medals at the Asia Games, more honors and awards that we can plaster to our face and call ourselves splendid, great, modern. But then inside it's a rotting, stinking mess, and the quest for international prestige is not going to sideline the race to make more money, develop more land, build more tacky resorts, whatever the cost.

So many things, panda bears not being the least, are being sacrificed for these $1 milion RMB housing developments, because we want to have an apartment in the "Versailles Gardens" or "Victoria Palm Beach," and drive our shiny shiny Audi to the disgustingly pretentious mall or home-improvement center, where we will load up on assembly-line statuettes of eyeless Greek gods to fill our home and make believe that there is some meaning to this.

And then, at the same time, this country is also so wonderful, and beautiful, and there have been so many great things done and read and drawn and written here. It makes my heart hurt.

Burdicks makes NYTimes' top 10 chocolates list

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/03/style/tmagazine/03tfair.html

Christmas is coming up...and I'm in fancy-chocolate-less
China...*accidentally drops hints liberally*

And it's apparently December already

*blows dust off toast*

China's proxies mysteriously cut off Blogger for a month or so. Now it's back again, just as inexplicably. Some quick updates on a long stretch of time:

* We had a Thanksgiving dinner, complete with real, half-cooked turkey. Real, half-cooked turkey cost us Y600 and was the most delightful shade of pink half-way down on the inside. It was still, nonetheless, one of the best turkeys I've ever ate.

* Then immediately after it snowed. Woo.

* I have a job. Am now English editor for a German travel company down in Jianguomen. Work is easy, and I treat myself to long lunch breaks with the IT kids, and unsuccessfully battle through crowds on the subway. I now know what it feels like to be a grain of coffee in a vaccum-packed bag—airless.

* But expanses of space also exist: I found myself in large, entirely empty underground passage at night, a little spooky—but I decided to sing "La Pastie de la Bourgeoisie" ("In the autumn cool, say cheerio to school")—because there was no one there to hear.