(longish) Hair

My hair had been getting a bit long so I decided to get a haircut on Saturday. Naturally, I was slightly worried what kind of haircut I would get in Africa. My hair could hardly be different than that of your average Ethiopian. Apples and oranges if there ever were. To find a place in Addis, I asked two people who both recommended the Boston Day Spa, so I decided I'd give it a try.
Saturday afternoon I went over to the salon and made an appointment for one hour later, then headed to the cafe upstairs, Limetree, to have lunch. I had a chicken, avocado sandwich on brown bread, paid the bill, went to the restroom to wash my hands and take a last look at my hair, then headed down to the salon.
My stylist introduced himself, "Hello, how are you? My name is Addis." (Wow, a haircut in Addis, by Addis!) He wore a shirt and tie, spoke fluent English and was very personable and friendly. I told him I wanted the sides and back short, and the top trimmed so I could spike it up a little--the so-called soft mohican popularized by footballers like David Beckham, (back in the day before he was "old"). I sipped some hot tea brought by an attendant, then Addis put the salon apron on me and got to work.
We got to talking about various Ethiopian holidays and some historical places in the country. I told him the salon seemed very nice and he replied, "Yes, and honestly, I must say, the people here are very professional and talented," then he said, "Except for me," and gave me a laugh. I laughed along nervously and said, "Oh, I'm...sure that's...um, not true." Then we got to talking about family and Addis said he had two boys, one 3 and the other 6 months. He was having such a good time talking about his family though, that I was sort of wishing he'd concentrate on my hair a bit more. I noticed he'd cut the top pretty short, but not to the point of disaster. I told him that length was enough, and he continued to even and blend everything out. He had sprayed my hair with water before and it was still wet so I couldn't really tell how the final cut was, but it seemed alright. I finished my tea and he said cheerily that he would take me to get a shampoo, as well as a scalp massage, "It's all included, okay?"
In Japan, they also give scalp massages. The Japanese scalp massage involves a lot of head tapping, skull squeezing, nape thumping and shoulder lifting; it's pretty vigorous, but does succeed in relieving stress. At Boston Spa, after the shampoo girl sort of apologized that the water was cold ("only cold, okay?"), she gave me a shampoo and rinse, and then put on (what I assume was) conditioner and began a very slow and non-deliberate massage, mainly of my hairline...and forehead. I was wondering if she was purposefully conditioning my forehead, or if it looked like I held my stress in my eyebrows. She wasn't poking me in the eye or anything though, and had to move to the temples, so I decided to just try and relax and hope for the best. After what seemed like a very long and awkward 3 or 4 minutes, the cold water came splashing against my head again, her finger in my ear, her thumb washing off my eyebrows. A quick towel dry and I wasn't any worse for the wear; my shirt seemed dry, my hair and forehead clean. Then Addis came back (I was pretty happy to see him at that point) and said he'd have to style me there since his chair was taken by another stylist. Afterward, he gave me a mirror and took me to some sort of dressing room with a wall mirror so I could see the back. Relieved, everything looked okay. Not David Beckham, mind you, but not Paul Reubens either.