ENTERTAINMENT / Hot Pot Column
It's bliss to count sheep at my local barber
By Graham Bond (China Daily)
Updated: 2007-04-26 21:41
Since the sudden and, frankly, disturbing revival of the Happy Hardcore
musical movement in my Guangdong hometown, I've tended to shun the local
pubs and clubs, opting instead to get my weekend kicks in the
hairdressers. I've long been a fan of the Chinese hair wash. Some of the
local establishments may not be suitable to take the wife, or mother, for
a visit. However, such is my love of the purer pleasures of the salon
experience that I have introduced both to visit my favorite joint.
Last Friday night comprised my usual hour-long wash and blow-dry. All the
normal routines were observed: The five-minute struggle to get the
air-conditioner working was lively as ever; the conversation about the
fact my feet were hanging off the end of the bed followed a well-trodden
path; we danced around the subject of whether I wanted my ears cleaning
me trying not to sound too eager, my attendant implying she didn't wash
the aural passages of just anybody.
With an impressive five lathers and rinses behind us, "No.17" (as she
insisted I call her) said my hour was up and suggested that I "xiuxi,
xiuxi" ("rest, rest"). I had just spent the last hour being pampered as
only a 21st Century metrosexual can without enduring severe dignity loss
and/or a beating behind the bike sheds. I had spent not one calorie on
mental or physical exertion (beyond, perhaps, burning off a baozi when
trying to remember how to say: "Could you turn the Happy Hardcore down a
jot?"). And here I was, being told that what I really needed to do now
was take a proper rest.
The Chinese word "xiuxi" does not equate to having a lie-in, reading a
book, or playing golf. The xiuxi is a paradox worthy of Laozi: The xiuxi
that looks like a xiuxi is not a true xiuxi. For example, that hair wash
didn't count because, one, somebody was touching me, and, two, I was
chatting with the person next to me. A real Chinese xiuxi is about
closing one's eyes and shutting down all life systems. It's about
momentarily ignoring the 1.3 billion people and retreating into your own
personal bubble. It's meditative, man.
A xiuxi is what unfolds when a hard-pedaling courier slumps himself
across his metal cart and takes a nap beside a six-lane city center
thoroughfare. It's what travelers do when they close eyes and pull
beatific expressions as the aircraft's engines scream on take-off. It's
what I do when somebody tries to press advertising material into my hand.
It's also what Chinese shops do when they want to close for the day. I
love the way shop signs don't use that cold, unfriendly word "closed" but
prefer "resting" instead. The owners haven't gone anywhere. They're
probably asleep on a table somewhere out back. Bang hard enough on the
door and they may even awake and let you in. In China, the xiuxi may be a
beautiful thing, but it's only ever temporary. Especially where Happy
Hardcore is concerned.
(China Daily 04/26/2007 page20)
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