Assimilation Part 1

Last week, I had my first experience of what they call in this part of the world, "Tai Tai" and one hour later was knocked right back into my place.

Tai Tai is a Chinese colloquial term for a "wealthy married woman who does not work".  In the case of my dear friend and I who hit the town the only part of that which is accurate is "married and does not work" and in my friends case, "woman".  It is an interesting term as it is sometimes considered flattering in being referred to as a "lady" and yet also carries with it a subtle insult.

Anyway, our Tai Tai experience started as a coffee at my apartment followed by a stroll into town to have a pedicure.  This was virgin territory for me having in 38 years never had anybody family, friend or foe near my feet.  Firstly I am intensely ticklish and secondly after having the beautiful feet of an innocent child when I was a child I now have the gnarly, green hued thick toenails of a 38 year old who has done a lot of hiking and worn those stupid shoes that lots of short girls wore in the late 90's that were actually platforms disguised as nice shoes.  This was my ankle buckling falling off the kerb phase that required me to always be holding on to someone when I walked anywhere.  Furthermore as these were platform shoes nobody was going to fall for the fact that I was actually 5ft 7 as they would clearly see I was 5ft 1 wearing 6 inch blocks on the bottom of my feet.  In order to make the illusion more impressive I wore trousers that were too long to cover the blocks.  Of course, I then tripped over those.

I digress.  My first pedicure was wonderful.  We were given beverages and Hello magazine.  Fodder for the bitter and vindictive mind.  We sat next to each other and chatted away while some poor young lass tended my revolting appendages.  If quasi modo was a toe then I have 6 modo's.  My big toes look like a tortoise's head appearing from a shell.  Lollipop toes if you will. Lindsay Lohan.  Stem with a big head on top.  My little toes are rotten through and through.  And yet this young girl worked a complete miracle.

As I mentioned before about quasi modo, my middle toes are all hump and little head / nail.  She managed to painlessly slice the skin back so I actually had more than a 2mm deep toenail that could be painted.  She chopped away at the kettle chip passing for my little toenails and made them shapely and paintable.  There was nothing she could physically do about the lollipops but you can't have everything.

The feet were then given a thorough pumicing, filing, creaming and massaging during which I squealed with laughter.

We were each given a basket of finger nails from which to pick what colours, styles we wanted.  Initially, it looked like the sort of basket you would find at a serial killers house but once I saw that each one was painted pretty I realised it was the equivalent of a Dulux colour palette.

My friend and I made our selection had our toes painted beautifully and then had our feet put under some sort of portable disco which dried the nail polish to perfection.

Amazingly, when I slipped back into my Birkenstocks, I could hardly walk.  My feet were so smooth that I was sliding in my sandals.  It was like the natural velcro that I had grown on my soles these 30 years had been removed to be replaced by silk.

I decided that I could get used to this and intend to justify having a monthly pedicure on health grounds.  As I am always in sandals my poor little feet are always exposed to the elements, the searing sun and the flooding rain.  In fact last week my feet were stained orange for three days following a massive downpour that took most of the orangey clay soil off the flower beds on the pavement and provided me with a gritty foot bath.  Luckily Singapore is very clean otherwise I would probably have needed both of them amputated.

So my initial foray into the expat Tai Tai world had commenced and as I sauntered through the shopping centre with my extremely lovely and very beautiful friend also from my hometown of Guildford, strutting my new toenails for the world to see, I felt rather swishy.  Of course this came crashing down when I noticed, as we walked together, the various people from the shops handing out flyers for their products only seemed to be handing them to my friend and not to me.  I suddenly realised and mentioned this to her that I think they think I am her maid and therefore do not warrant receiving their flyers.

Yes, I am a bore about the treatment of maids out here and yet I will continue to wear my shorts and t-shirts and not trade up to a selection of dresses from Mango to prove I am something other than what a lot of people here perceive me to be. 

But in future and because I am slightly irritated, I might ask my friend if I can walk in front of her wherever we go, talk with my poshest English accent very loudly and try to find some of those 6 inch platform shoes from the 90s as I think being tall and dusky as opposed to short and dusky might enable me to get hold of some of those fancy pants leaflets that I so desperately want.