Taxis and pedis

Painted toes

I’m always getting told off in Colombia. They seem to be very good at giving a gentle scolding and I always end up feeling like a naughty child.

It happens a lot in taxis, especially at night. They’ll say to me: “What’s a mona [literal translation: monkey, used here to refer to blondes] like you doing out on your own at this time of night.”

They always catch me off-guard  and I tend to mumble something about having been at my friend’s house and now wanting to be at my house, hence being in a taxi. Then I get a lecture about how I should take more care because I’m such a blatant gringa and the baddies are waiting to pounce.

I got scolded again today. I went for a pedicure and once it was over the woman asked me if I’d brought my flip flops. I said no, I hadn’t and showed her my strappy sandals. She was clearly alarmed, but explained that they sell foamy cardboard flip flops for less than a pound. As far as I was concerned this was great news and totally resolved the very minor issue that had arisen.

She helped me into the flip flops to make sure I didn’t smudge her handy work. “Great, thanks!” I said naively. She still looked extremely concerned and told me I must go straight home (I didn’t) and then looked me in the eye and said, “Did you not think of this before you left home?”

What a fool I felt! The truth is, no! I had not thought about it. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell her this so I made up some bumbling lie about how I hadn’t planned to come to the salon and that it was just a super spontaneous, spur of the moment decision.

I left the salon and waddled along the pavementin the DIY flip flops that aren’t really fit for use.

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