Italian Feet

I got a pedicure today. Before I left the States, I was running around like crazy and didn't have the time, so I figured I would get one here, even though when I thought about it later, I realized I had never seen a nail salon in all my time here in the past.

I asked the family and one of the mother's friends.They said, "There are two types of Italian women. Those who get pedicures all the time, and those who never get them. Most people never get them." Apparently those women do it themselves. I told them how in cities in the States, there are nail salons everywhere and women of all backgrounds often get manicures and pedicures on a regular basis.

I considered ditching the idea, but thought it might be fun to have the experience. I learned you have to get pedicures here at places called "estitistas", or beauty salons, that also do waxing and facials (but not hair). However, most of the time they are "medical pedicures" (either intense cleaning or treating foot problems too). I just wanted a simple, Joe Schmo (Giovanni Schmo) pedicure. The housekeeper mentioned a place somewhat nearby and I left plenty of time to find it (for me the equation usually is the time it takes a normal person to find something, times four).

Interesting experience. First of all, it was like going to a doctor's office. Everyone is in white coats, and you are led into a little room with an examining table with the white paper on it. I was told to take off my shoes and lie down. They literally do the pedicure when you are in this position. The funniest part was she asked if I wanted coffee or water, and then handed me some water. Um, I'm lying down. It was also in one of those ridged cups you get at the dentist; I felt like I should rinse and spit. I blindly found the nearest surface to put it down on.

Unlike in the States, they don't soak your feet first. They first do the trimming and after they finish one foot, they carry over a bin with a plastic bag covering it (I guess for hygiene) and sudsy water and you place your foot in it. So now you are still lying down, but your knees are bent with your feet in this portable tub. It wasn't exactly the pampering, relaxing experience in American nail salons I was used to, but I could still try to enjoy.... wait, was that a razor she was unwrapping?? There was no time to grab my dictionary and frantically translate. "Is that a razor?" "Que?" "Razor, razor - is that a razor?" She held it up. Jesus, they stopped using those in the States years ago. I had to think quickly. I made the gesture for a foot file while saying "Si!" and then a gesture for scissors saying, "Non!" She got it.

They only do a foot massage, not the whole calf like in the States, but she was very good (albeit short). Then she carried in the whole display of polish colors for me to choose - still lying down, mind you. Somebody should tell them it is easier when customers choose their colors before the pedicure starts. She did do a good job (although she painted more of a box rather than filling in the whole nail). Then she carried in one of those neon light machines and I put my feet in it, again from a prone position. She left the room and put on new age music with birds chirping and bells chiming. Music to dry your nails by. I reached over and grabbed my bag and called my American friend in Florence, who has lived here for about 15 years. "Do I tip?" I whispered. "I haven't tipped anyone since I've been here," she said.