Daomu Biji: A Thousand Faces

01

The summer of 2007 was particularly hot. Shops in Baijingfang, Hangzhou (1) were open as usual and all the seafood barbecue shops moved their grills to the alleys outside. The sound of automatic mahjong tables rang out from countless game rooms in the neighborhood. Many girls were walking around in miniskirts; some with their girl friends, some with their boyfriends. There were street performers and loudspeakers repeating promotional ads coming from all the shoe and accessory stores, making it extremely lively. 

Flashing LED lights had become popular in recent years. Almost all of the shops had LED signs at their doors and even the tourist tricycles had them on their carriages. The flashing lights made me uncomfortable.

I walked past these shops and came to a small alley, where it was a lot quieter and seemed to be cooler. The heat from the grills and the beer smell had long disappeared.

There were also several LED signs at the end of the alley. The rent was a lot cheaper here, so the shop owners obviously needed to spend more time on marketing.

The small alley was a dead end. I walked to the very end of it and found the shop I was looking for. 

It was a tattoo shop. The door was very small and the entrance was so narrow that only one person could walk in at a time. The glowing name of the shop stood in stark contrast to the LED sign’s white background. The shop was called "Thousand Faces".

The narrow door was made of glass, with a drawn curtain on the inside. There were many stickers on the door that turned out to be tattoo designs. It looked like the stickers had been printed by the store owner and there were thank you notes from guests written on them. I saw one of them, which read: Thank you for helping me regain my body's sovereignty.

I took a picture of it with my phone and then knocked on the door.

A girl with short hair opened the door. She was wearing an apron and oversleeves and had a surprisingly delicate face. She was about 1.7 meters tall and holding a cigarette in one hand. She looked at me and asked, "Tattoo?"

I glanced down at myself. I was wearing a red dress that was very inconsistent with this store's temperament. I tried putting on a particularly chic smile, "I’m here for the interview. I made an appointment with you."

The girl looked me up and down, "There’s a coffee shop on the street corner. It’s crowded in my shop and I’m in the middle of something. You want to wait for me there?" 

I looked inside the shop. Sure enough, there seemed to be a client there. I didn't like to leave the area that the interviewee was familiar with because it would alter her emotions. The best place was where she was most familiar.

"I'll wait for you outside."

"It’ll take a while, though. It's hot outside." The girl seemed to doubt my decision, but I shook my head and took out a cigarette. It was a lady’s brand, very slender. I lit up and leaned against the wall beside the door. "It's okay."

She nodded and started to walk back in before she suddenly poked her head out and said to me, "I’m Ah Tou."

She looked at me and smiled. It was a very natural smile. Maybe it was because of the AC coming out of her shop when the door was opened, but I felt like she had a cool and tenacious character. 

"I’m Liang Yanyan," I said. The smoke hit my eyes and I squinted, suddenly feeling like my makeup was too tacky. I almost wanted to wash my face and change into flip-flops before walking into her shop so generously.

That was the first time I met Ah Tou and the first time I visited “Thousand Faces”. There was an urban legend in this shop that was very popular. It was said that you could get insights into everyone’s secrets in this city, but I wasn’t a tabloid reporter. I worked for an authoritative media. When I heard about this rumor, I was attracted by the name of the shop. I had a feeling that there were inextricable connections between this rumor and the name, “Thousand Faces”.

02

Everything in the tattoo shop was grey. The brick walls and concrete roof illustrated the owner's love for industrialization. There were countless tattoo designs on the wall and the old CD player on the windowsill was playing Ryuichi Sakamoto’s “Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence” (2). There was a small L-shaped sofa next to the tattoo chair. The shop was very crowded and there was almost no open space left. The small coffee table in front of the sofa had a tattoo book and two cups of coffee on it. There was huge ashtray full of cigarette butts that didn’t seem match the small coffee table at all.

Ah Tou had removed her oversleeves and apron and was now wearing a tank top and shorts. Her slender arms and legs were full of intricate tattoos. She sat next to me and looked at me sideways.

"The origin of ‘Thousand Faces’? Why do you think this name has an origin?"

"Shouldn't a tattoo shop be called something like ‘Needle Master’?" I took a sip of coffee and found that it was Vietnamese drip coffee. There was no sugar at all and it was very bitter, but it was also very fragrant.

She looked at me, "Would you name your tattoo shop ‘Needle Master’? Well…you don’t look like someone who’d open a tattoo shop at all."

I looked at myself again: a Swarovski necklace and a fluffy Miu Miu bag in pink (3). Well, I didn’t even look like someone who would get a tattoo. I suddenly felt ashamed and asked myself, why am I even sitting here? I laughed in spite of myself. 

She didn't seem to notice and said, "The essence of getting a tattoo is to declare your own body’s sovereignty to others. It’s the same with the shop’s name. I can call it whatever I want."

"Does your shop also do facial tattoos?" I asked her. I had noticed some facial tattoo designs and pointed at them.

"Tattooing the face requires courage. I usually dissuade it unless the person is undergoing some difficulties.” She crossed her legs. "If people want to be unique or have sovereignty over their bodies to a certain degree, they’ll want tattoos on their face. These people generally have powerful opponents—parents, exes, public power (4), etc."

"I know—antisocial personalities."

"Yup."

The CD player switched to the next song, a serenade from the second act of Don Juan. She looked at me for a while and suddenly smiled, "I played this song on purpose. I know you’re an intellectual, but you didn’t react to it at all.”

I suddenly felt like we should be drinking alcohol. I looked even more reserved as an interviewer than my own interviewee. I couldn’t believe my talking skills didn’t work on Ah Tou at all. 

I had to get straight to the point; otherwise, this conversation would become even more awkward. I smiled and pondered for a bit before lowering the music volume and blinking, "Tell me about that legend. You know, the secret. I heard there’s a special material used to make the mask?”

****

TN Notes:

(1) Baijingfang Xiang, Hangzhou, Zhejiang, China – A historical district comprising a neighborhood of labyrinthine alleys.

(2) It’s from the WWII movie “Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence”. The song is here on youtube.

(3) Swarovski and Miu Miu are brands.

(4) Public power refers to the power of public organizations to organize, coordinate, and control society and individuals (social influence) according to public will.