The Case of offending Nails

For a country where women seem to cover up for reasons of religion and modesty, getting a pedicure seems a curious exception to the rule!

I was invited to go get 'nails' done which I accepted with alarming alacrity given the state of my slutty toe nails given that my meagre kit of nail varnishes have yet to arrive. And I add, I really have no kit as such, simply a couple of varnish colours. So, it was with excitment that I walked out of school on Thurs, aiming to hop onto a school bus and be deposited in the mecca of all things to be found ,Road 9 in Maadi, However, the school bus was driving away, clearly after a prodigously full exodus of staff. A kind colleague offered to take me into Maadi after which I had to take a taxi to the busy said street. Cash was required before my long awaited appointed, so, that was a case of having to ask to find an ATM. Not much is made obvious but it is to all who know. Then, the moment came. We walked down steps to Tarek's salubrious establishment, to be greeted by a collection of white coated young men! Yes, young men..in their twenties. Ther were a few girls but predominantly, men. We were seated with foot spas ready and large barber like massage chairs. I opted out of having finger nails done having clipped them rather short a few days earlier. Once seated the  slightly unnerving massage machine wriggling across my back, a girl started with the procedure. My remnant toe nail colour was removed, then the 'threading'  began! Clearly, my feet were beginning to ressemble a hobbit's in their hirsuiteness. She gently massaged the foot and then walked away. She was replaced by the young man, who then dealt with my offending nails and toes for the next near hour. I watched with apprehension as he emptied a packet of instruments which clearly looked surgical! My toes were clearly going to need mammoth care on this occasion. He began by filing , then there were various stages of dead skin removal which I could not bare to watch. Each foot took approximately 20 mins each. My boy was much into his work and did not attempt chat as my friends' boys did. He did not even look up. Eventually, he said, 'you cut your own?' How could I deny it? His reply was, 'too short' and my feet reclaimed his attention. It was quite some time again before he allowed me to choose a colour which came in the form of dark or light baskets! I went for dark and deep red. His handy work had to be shown off! He applied colour, then left. The girl returned to massage my calves and the soles of my feet and added the top coat. Perfect! As we got ready to leave, the whole place started filling up with local women. They were ushered to the thrones of care and had their sandles removed for them as they talked on their mobiles or filed their nails. It felt utterly decadent watching these women and the young men at their command. The Spirit of Cleopatra is alive amongst these!

Friday morning, husband and I decided it was time to start hanging up some of our gallery of pictures . We found our trusty hammer and a nail and went to  task, only to have the nail bend out of shape at the first bang! Another nail was tried and same result! Our conclusion? The walls are painted concrete!! Nails will bounce off them! We are now going to have to get help from a man with a drill and screws to put up our beloved pictures. Permission has been asked from the Captain and he has granted it. He has yet to discover how 'swiss cheese' like his walls are about to become!

With the case of the mattress, he has conceded I have a point and will order another once he is back from his trip to Tokyo!  Inshallah...In the meantime, sliding off the bed each morning is the order of the day!

Oh, considering there are about 25 plug points in the apartment, only about 15 work. The splendid workmanship means the plugs slide out of  the others! Yet again, help must be summoned for this task. Inshallah...

Simple things are not simple...shopping at Carrefour means, if a price label is not on your goods, you can't buy it! No one will be sent to look for the price so sale can be made. You will be told with a smile, 'no price'. And what does one do? Return the smile... find a taxi, bargain the price, and be driven out into the moonscape and building sites that leads back to the leafy streets and Trump Towers where picutures have yet to be hung but sandles can be removed to fully reveal beautifully buffed and painted nails. Joy!