Tonsorial

I decided that I needed a bit of neatening up so I headed of to the local tonsorial parlour for my first ever Southeast Asian haircut.  The local purveyors of manly grooming took my presence in stride and I was soon parked in a chair.  With a bit of pantomime and a little English-Cambodian, Naim and I thought we had a workable plan and I sat back to enjoy whatever might come.

At first, things were more or less like a normal barbershop routine.  Naim made with the initial trimming, followed by the scissors for a tidy-up.  I'm an old geezer heading for the bald farm so its not like we are talking rock-star styling here.  Besides, my basic hairstyle is quite similar to what most Cambodian men wear, so all was well.

Barbering in Cambodia, however, has a few experiences that are not included stateside.  Following the hair cutting, we got onto the shaving and exfoliating.  Rubbing and scraping, all of that unwanted bristle and skin disappeared from my neck, forehead, cheeks, throat, you name it.  Once I was well and truly scraped clean, it was time for the face massage.  OK, sure, face massage.  That sounds nice. Oils on, rubbed around, oils off.  Cleanser on, rubbed around, cleanser off.  Soothing lotion stuff on, rubbed around, and then off again.  

Next came the facial mask, complete with cooling air jets.  I can tell you that it felt great, and that it looked really silly.  A bit later I saw a local in the neighboring chair, relaxing with his facial mask on. Like I said, silly.  Anyway, I digress.

During the facial mask, there was the crazy electronic massage.  Naim strapped one of those old fashioned vibrating glove type massagers on and proceeded to go to town, working me over like a side of beef that required tenderizing.  Back, shoulders, neck, arms and hands, even the thighs and calfs got a good going over.  As wild as it was, it felt damn good.  

Then came the scratching.  Naim demonstrated a little and asked if I wanted scratching.  Sure, scratching, why not, I'm a world traveler.  Assent received, he slathered my scalp with yet another potion and began to finger-tip massage my scalp.  Heaven, I tell you I had visions of heaven, just through the pearly gates.

Finally came the head washing, and, just as I thought we were done, the ultimate act of this tonsorial drama, the karate chop massage.  

When I was finally up and out of the chair, everyone was smiling including myself.  The only casualty of the event was a very close trimming of my chin beard, giving me that three-day stubble look, which is actually sort of hipster-cool looking.   

This afternoon's haircut  may prove to be the most entertaining interaction that I have ever had with the local folks here in Cambodia.  The entire treatment set me back a whopping six bucks plus a dollar tip for my pal Naim.  Hell of a deal, Friends and Neighbors, a hell of a deal.