Shaved head, nakedness and trust building

My friend Laker is from Uganda. He and I have had various conversations about hair and their intercultural perceptions. Laker grew out his hair to about 6 inches, which is apparently a big deal in Uganda. If you have hair like that apparently you would be considered a long haired hippie. I remember people in Ghana and Togo keeping their hair pretty short too. The only people I saw with long hair were Rastafarian and homeless people.
These hair conversations combine with my memories of hair in Ghana and today I woke up with an intention to cut most of my hair off. I called my Laker quickly just to make sure.
"Laker, so from what I understand short hair is considered professional"
"Yes, very professional"
"Even on a westerner, it would be considered sharp"
"Yes"
"I was thinking of shaving my head today""Don't shave it all off, people will think you are trying to harness the sun for stored energy"
"Thanks Laker, I will leave 5mm on"
So that is the story. I shaved my head for Africa. I figure people would be just fine if I had longer hair, but it is always nice to have that little edge. Upon further reflection, I often like changing aspects of myself to pay respect to a place or culture I am visiting. I wouldn't change something that is important to me, but I don't identify much with hair, or garb for that matter. In fact, this reminds me of a story.
It was 2004 and I was doing a Tsunami relief work in Moratuwa, Sri Lanka. The day I arrived in the village, I wore a sarong (it is like a kilt or skirt). I figured this would symbolize my intention to work with the local culture. It turned out to do more than that. About five minutes into the village, I notice a little snickering. I figure they are having a bit of fun at my fashion expense, but perhaps showing a little vulnerability would build trust later. A lady with big glasses explains to me through an interpreter that I am wearing my sarong like a Tamil (the ethnic minority of Sri Lanka). The Tamil (like Tamil tigers) people are not very popular in the region I was serving in. She had ushered me into her little dwelling and stripped me of my sarong. It was not 10 minutes and I was already standing in my underwear in a villager's house. She put my sarong on a sewing machine and sewed it so it fit like a proper Sinhalese (the ethnic majority of Sri Lanka) sarong.
I hurried out of the dwelling to find my group who were almost complete with the village tour standing beneath a fruit tree. In my eagerness to make up time bonding with the villagers. I picked up a kid to help him pick fruit off the tree. My newly fitted sarong promptly fell down and again the villagers began to laugh. Under normal conditions I would wake up from the embarrassing dream, however these were not normal conditions and I could not pick up my sarong until the child let go of a particularly stubborn piece of fruit. Eventually I was able to pick up my sarong.
Perhaps in situations where you are entering a new culture and there is a perception where you have more power or influence (like in relief work), it is best to show a bit of vulnerability right away so people don't feel like the power distance is too great. However, standing before the village in only my shirt and boxers is perhaps a bit much. Later that trip, I decided it was better to grow a mustache.