I think my feet have seen the worst of their days living here in this dry, dusty, sandal culture- so the offer to get a pedicure with our new homestay mom- Donna Rita, was very enticing. Linnea and I moved last week to live for the rest of our time here with a homestay family. My dear friend Jenna, from Santa Barbara, connected us with the family she lived with while studying abroad here. It was definitely a small world moment- they live about 10 min. from where we work and Jenna knew all about Fairloom- which is a fairly small operation. They adore Jenna and already have been incredibly hospitable to us. Back to the nail salon... for the most part I´m not much for nail polish on my fingernails, but am definitely a sucker for the occassional pedicure. I wasn´t sure what to expect, which is nothing knew since I have become quite accustomed with the "never really quite knowing what I am getting myself into" aspect of living in a different culture. The salon was a front room of a house-and whosever turn it was sat in a plastic chair with a cold bucket of water for your feet. One girl had the worse job of picking away and scrubbing at your feet, while the other was the artist- getting your nails done means getting designs on them as a well. Although I was a little wary at first of how sanitary all the tools and definitely over-used pumice scrubber were- it was worth the risk. They went at it- Nay was still in pain the next day from the blood drawn. For the three of us it took four hours, with some snack breaks, and other sorts of distractions like a lady who came by with a suitcase of bras to sell- it was definitely an all girls afternoon. When it time came for the painting, I attempted to ask for the most basic option- hoping to avoid the sparkly fireworks, swirls and flowers. But this request was quickly shot down, so I gave in, flowers, glitter- the whole bit. Muito chic!
