“Virgin hair in high demand in China,” says Kyaw of Hot Legs Niteclub

Big yellow teeth glistens behind Mummy Lulu’s thick red lips. “Hi, Chow Kah!” She approaches his table in the KTV hall with a curvy lass in tow and stops a few feet away. “I’ve a surprise for you! My latest hostess! Ta-ta!” The mama-san gestures with an open palm to the average-height hostess who tosses a shy glance at Chow Kah and looks away. “Her name’s Kyaw, new Yangon talent.”  The crone hands a one-page menu over to Chow Kah. “Try her company for tonight?”  The night-clubber points to a spot on the menu and hands it back. “Sorry, but Jessica’s on leave today and tomorrow. You did not book a KTV room, so Hussein’s not coming?”

Chow Kah grasps the arms of the chair lightly. “He’s attending a business conference in Jakarta. Asked me to convey his affectionate regards to Wati.” Eyes bugging wide, he sweeps his gaze from Kyaw’s face to her sandaled feet with appropriate stops along the way. “How’s your English, Kyaw?”

Kyaw twinkles her eyes at Chow Kah. “I graduated from Hinthada University in tourism studies.” Her English is excellent and Chow Kah twinkles his eyes back at her.

Mummy Lulu palms the small of Kyaw’s back, directing her to the wingback chair next to Chow Kah. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, she adds with a nod, “Dagon Lager beer, right?” Her eyes shift sideways to Kyaw. “And a super-garland and big tray of tequila for your new-found girlfriend!”

Kyaw drops her butt on the wingback chair, and smoothes her long tresses over her shoulders. Her cheekbones can cut glass and the right side of her face is tinted bluish by the neon sign of a Carlsberg advertisement a cigarette-stub’s throw away.   

Chow Kah leans sideways. “Gee, you’ve such beautiful hair.”

“Virgin hair is in high demand in China.” The crimson slash of Kyaw’s lips tug at Chow Kah’s eyes. “That’s why I take good care of my hair, may bring in money.”

A dent of puzzlement appears between Chow Kah’s eyes. “Huh? Perverts in China clamour for, err, pubic hair from a virgin?” He makes a face. “Yuks, some  sort of a fetish?

“Noooo….” Kyaw blasts out a giggle. “Hair from the head!’

“Oh, head hair only from a virgin?  I see. Hair from a married woman or a divorcee is worthless?”

A waiter brings the beer and tequila. “Oops, sorry, I forget the opener.”  Plastering a sheepish smile on his mahogany-coloured face, he scratches the back of his head. “I’ll be back.”

“Never mind about the opener,” Kyaw says and the waiter departs. One by one, she picks up the bottles and prises their caps off using her teeth under the shocked gaze of Chow Kah, his mouth agape.

“We, Myanmar girls have strong teeth!” Kyaw chuckles and pours beer into Chow Kah’s mug. She says, “By virgin hair, I mean hair that hasn't been permed, or dyed, or treated to any chemical in a salon. In short, natural hair.”  The coffee-skinned babe sets the mug in front of Chow Kah, picks up a shot glass and sniffs its content. “One hundred centimetres of waist-length virgin hair fetches USD100-200 per kg. They’re used for making wigs and hair extensions. Only hair from Myanmar girls. Hair from other foreign girls fetch lower prices. Cheers!” She takes a swig of her tequila and a grimace wrinkles her nose.

Chow Kah blinks. “Why? I mean, why Myanmar girls?”

A waitress arrives and collars Kyaw with a big garland. “Our hair is the softest in Asia.” Kyaw picks up the chit and shoves it inside a metal container. “You been to Myanmar?”

The foam has died down in his mug and Chow Kah takes a sip of his beer. “May go in the future.”

“Tell you something about our hair culture. Some women cut their hair and donate them to temples.” Kyaw tosses another shot glass of tequila down her throat. “A few even shave themselves bald!  These temples will sell the hair to agents. They end up in hair trading centres based in Meiktila. After cleaning and conditioning, they’re sold to wig factories in China.”

“Err, what about hair from other part of the body?”

“Don’t think dirty, darling.” A sly smile flitters around Kyaw’s lips and dies. “They’re different from head hair. Demand for our hair is so great that hair falls are also collected from combs in salons. But fetch lower prices since they’ve to be untangled first.” The Yangon babe crosses her legs and sucks in an inhale, expanding her bosom.  “Do you know there’re long hair competitions in Myanmar? Some of the contestants have hair reaching to the calves.” She exhales and her chest returns to normal. 

“Gee…I wouldn’t want my wife to have such long hair!”

“Oh, why?”

“An over long-haired woman reminds me a pontianak.” Chow Kah mocks a shudder. “Pour white powder on her face and hair and what does she look like? A female ghoul.” The randy night-clubber stretches an arm to hold Kyaw’s hand. “Hair that falls around the shoulders is fine with me”

Kyaw leans towards Chow Kah and circles her fingers around his gnarled paw. “The University of Western Ontario conducted a study which found that men perceive women with long hair to be more attractive.” She pauses, grating her lips with an impish smile. “You find me attractive, darling?”

 “Do women find balding man attractive?”

“Ooooh, bald man are sexy!” Kyaw throws her head back and laughs. “Compared to blokes with thinning or thick hair, a baldie is regarded as more masculine, more dominant and more confident. This was the conclusion of a study done by the University of Pennsylvania. Results were published in Social Psychological and Personality Science.” She blows wisps of bangs from her bright round eyes. “You see, I’m more than just a pretty face, darling—” her lips quirk sideways “— I'm also well-read. Ahem.”

“I see! Drum roll! Ta-ta!” Chow Kah bares his crooked teeth in a grin. “From today, I needn’t wear my toupee!” He yanks off his wig and drops it on his lap. Revealed is short spiky hair and a large bald spot on the crown of his head. “Bah! Should have known about that university’s study earlier.”

“Oh Mother of God!” Kyaw jerks her head back. “You look, err, you look…” She twists her mouth into a moue of disgust.

Colour glows on Chow Kah’s cheeks. “Look what?”

“Cruel truth here.” Kyaw’s delicate shoulders become as stiff as her smile. “The study said bald men only look more masculine, more dominant, but, unfortunately, not more attractive.” Her smile morphs into a pitiful laugh.  

“What the heck!” The bubble of his erstwhile pride broken, Chow Kah’s voice takes on a saw-edge as he replaces his toupee. “I know I look terrible.” His eyes hopscotch beyond Kyaw to Mummy Lulu standing several feet away. The mama-san is laughing like an ape, her sinewy shoulders shaking uncontrollably in her bodycon dress.

“Cheer up, darling.” Kyaw waggles her thin arched brows. “A fat wallet’s more important than not having hair.”  

/end