My Indian friend was out of town, and I had a bee in my bonnet to get a henna. All over the place I went to no avail. Finally I decided that Kota Jaya might produce a henna artist. I went to a nail salon in Kota Jaya and thought we were talking about the same thing. Until she produced a portfolio of various nail art options. No, no, not that, henna - for my hands. No, no, we do not have, it finish. Ok, do you know any Indian shops here. Can, can, go straight , then go that way lai dat and there. No, none of that, but another Chinese hair salon this time. One stylist went to a patron - Indian - and came back. Stay here, wait. I stayed there. I waited. My new Indian friend says follow me. I followed her to a taman I have never seen before, with twists and turns and more turns and twists, and stopped at a home. My new Pakistan native friend who arrived in Malaysia the same time as myself began her work. After several hours of her artistry, her dear little one year old daughter did a major high five on my right foot, right into the ink. Not a pretty sight. She was devastated. You cannot correct this. I assured her it was still fine, and suggested we call it a day. But I do have one lovely foot, a dramatic left hand, and a right foot that can pass very nicely after a g & t.
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