Yesterday I went to my friendly local beautician. Bless her - tiny Vietnamese lady. Have been there 3 times since I have lived in my new hood and she has never uttered a word to me. Always yakking away in a language I don't understand and never uttering any English it has always been so amusing to interpret the gestures 'chose plolish' with a finger point means 'please choose the nail colour you would like on your toes before you sit down'. Wild gesticulating when you need to change feet in the bubbling pedicure foot well - the human body is an amazing thing - hangs, eyes, mouth, face...it can all tell you things when the words aren't there.
But yesterday was the first time I had ever braved having my waxing done at 'Lily's Angel Nails'. It was time. My eyebrows looked like my grampa's...and well - the rest...eish. So my lovely therapist then beckons me to behind the curtain in the back of the shop. I follow and feel anxious. Bikini Wax's at the best of time are painful experiences. And now I had no way of telling my foreign friend that she needed to 'go gently into this good night'. Anyways - things get underway and then next minute she says 'I so ploud'. I shake my head as if to check my hearing - did she just say something in English? I say 'pardon'. And blow me down - she repeats herself, 'I so ploud'. I stare incredulously at her. For a split second I do not register. I whizz through my mental lists trying to think what this little Vietnamese firecracker might be so proud of. I mean, I know bikini waxing is challenging, but is mine really that bad that it requires pride to tame it? I am blushing inside. And then it comes tumbling out 'I so ploud that my team win in boat. They go so flast.' Well blow me over with a feather. She is talking about the Olympics. She is talking about Team GB. How incredible. Bless her.
Needless to say, we get into a detailed conversation. She speaks more English than I ever knew. Interesting sentence construction, but dinkum English (even though she keeps proclaiming she speak 'English no good'). I am so chuft. We talk about the boats ('I no understand my only one stick [oar]'). She tells me with a huge grin on her face - 'I shout at terry [telly] very roud'. I am thrilled and without realising it this bikini wax is turning into a lesson of a lifetime! I discover she has been in England for 31 years 'I rive ronger in England than I do at Vietnam'. I ask her if she has been back to Vietnam recently 'I onry go when mallied to husband. No more mallied thank goodness, no more Vietnam.' (I could see the joy on her face at this statement - no husband means a lot to her!) By this stage we are now back in the front of the shop and she is waxing my eyebrows in the middle of the place - not shy! And while she is waxing it dawns on me. She is peering over my head at the terry egging on her Team GB. She tells me she is excited for 'tomollow night to see Lichard Branson fliend running very flast'. And in that moment I am just enamoured with my vietnamese firecracker. She is one of the many many many unsung heroes in this Olympic story. She is the silent supporter, shouting at the terry from her nail shop in Forest Hill. She is a shining example of how sport is a unifying experience - no matter your language, no matter your culture, no matter your profession, no matter your history - your pride and patriotism collides in an event as momentous as the Olympics. I love it and I absolutely adore my Vietnamese firecracker...I find myself wanting to head over the road to the shop today and hang out with her and watch her shouting at the terry!
Happy Olympics day friends x
But yesterday was the first time I had ever braved having my waxing done at 'Lily's Angel Nails'. It was time. My eyebrows looked like my grampa's...and well - the rest...eish. So my lovely therapist then beckons me to behind the curtain in the back of the shop. I follow and feel anxious. Bikini Wax's at the best of time are painful experiences. And now I had no way of telling my foreign friend that she needed to 'go gently into this good night'. Anyways - things get underway and then next minute she says 'I so ploud'. I shake my head as if to check my hearing - did she just say something in English? I say 'pardon'. And blow me down - she repeats herself, 'I so ploud'. I stare incredulously at her. For a split second I do not register. I whizz through my mental lists trying to think what this little Vietnamese firecracker might be so proud of. I mean, I know bikini waxing is challenging, but is mine really that bad that it requires pride to tame it? I am blushing inside. And then it comes tumbling out 'I so ploud that my team win in boat. They go so flast.' Well blow me over with a feather. She is talking about the Olympics. She is talking about Team GB. How incredible. Bless her.
Needless to say, we get into a detailed conversation. She speaks more English than I ever knew. Interesting sentence construction, but dinkum English (even though she keeps proclaiming she speak 'English no good'). I am so chuft. We talk about the boats ('I no understand my only one stick [oar]'). She tells me with a huge grin on her face - 'I shout at terry [telly] very roud'. I am thrilled and without realising it this bikini wax is turning into a lesson of a lifetime! I discover she has been in England for 31 years 'I rive ronger in England than I do at Vietnam'. I ask her if she has been back to Vietnam recently 'I onry go when mallied to husband. No more mallied thank goodness, no more Vietnam.' (I could see the joy on her face at this statement - no husband means a lot to her!) By this stage we are now back in the front of the shop and she is waxing my eyebrows in the middle of the place - not shy! And while she is waxing it dawns on me. She is peering over my head at the terry egging on her Team GB. She tells me she is excited for 'tomollow night to see Lichard Branson fliend running very flast'. And in that moment I am just enamoured with my vietnamese firecracker. She is one of the many many many unsung heroes in this Olympic story. She is the silent supporter, shouting at the terry from her nail shop in Forest Hill. She is a shining example of how sport is a unifying experience - no matter your language, no matter your culture, no matter your profession, no matter your history - your pride and patriotism collides in an event as momentous as the Olympics. I love it and I absolutely adore my Vietnamese firecracker...I find myself wanting to head over the road to the shop today and hang out with her and watch her shouting at the terry!
Happy Olympics day friends x
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