My Haircut

Yesterday I had my first Chinese haircut. This may seem like a small, unimportant, humdrum event, but many weeks of thought went into this decision and many hours were spent agonizing over whether this choice would have positive or negative effects on my personal well-being (and my appearance). I eventually decided that my rats nest, broom-like, super-long hair was not going to make it a whole year without being cut. So, I figured that it was safest to take my friend Pei-Pei up on her offer to take me to the place that she gets her haircut. It was on the pricier side for China (80 kuai or $12), but I figured that it was the safest bet to go with my friend so she could help translate my hair needs.
The first part of my haircut experience was great. I got a head massage, an ear massage, I had my hair washed with shampoo (but no water) and sculped into various troll like sculptures. He went through several cylces of foaming up, removing foam, replacing foam, using foam to wash my ears, etc. All very good. Then I got to lie down while the foam was washed from my hair and then I returned to my chair for a full upper body massage. Shoulders, back, arms, hands. I also had my ears cleaned for me (a personal first), which involved sticking a long piece of cotton down into my ear until I starting laughing hysterically because it tickled so much and he stopped. I think it helps to picture the whole scene if I tell you that my Chinese friend was switching back and forth between playing her PSP and taking embarressing pictures and videos of me at various soapy-wet stages. I would try to describe the unique style of hair that the person who was massaging me was sporting, but I just don't think I could do it justice.
After about an hour of washing and massaging, I moved to another chair where the actually cutting was to take place.
My stylist was dressed stylishly, and his hair was also styled in typical assymetrical, poofy, kind of sticking up asian punk boy style. I guess this should have been some sort of warning about the type of haircut that I was about to get, but at the time I thought nothing of it. I merely sat down, tried to communicate a little bit of what I wanted, and then just let him do his thing. It's just hair right?
Everything was going fine for a while. He was really an artist, pulled my hair in all sorts of directions to achieve the layering and slanting that he desired. It felt much more like an artistic process than previous haircuts that I have had in the States (there also may have been a little bit more guess and check involved). I really felt that he was trying to create a thing of beauty. Unfortunately, sometimes Chinese standards for what are beautiful do not coincide with what I see as beautiful. This became very evident to me when he started teasing my hair in sort of an 80's punk rock fashion, hacking off random chunks of hair about two inches from my head, and pulling my hair up into a little poodle pony tail on the top of my head. Fortunately, my Chinese is good enough at this point to communicate the fact that these style choices were not okay with me, and that they must be stopped at once before I was turned into a 80's punk, poodle, female mullet, or anything equally horrifiying.
In the end, I think I have come out of this experience with a deeper understanding of how cultural our own standards of beauty are, and how even if I say that I am open to Chinese culture and traditions, this does not necessarily mean that I am ready to sport modern day Chinese styles, especially when they involve my own head.