The Hired Help

Culturally, I was having quite a time getting used to our new home.  No, it had nothing to do with the religious and social customs of the people of the land we found ourselves in.  Yes, everything was completely foreign.  The food, clothing, etiquette, religion, and language were totally new to me.  However different it was, I was quite able to embrace the "Different."  Unfortunately, what I had the hardest time with was the "abrasive" way in which our two cultures tried to merge.

Not long after moving into our home, I started getting knocks at our door.  No, none of them were neighbors stopping by to introduce themselves.  I could understand that.  New face on the street???  Swing by and say hello!  No.  There were no knocks from neighbors.  However, there were more than plenty of knocks from nannies and gardeners looking for work.

I was a bit taken aback by this.  Having grown up in an "average" home, the thought of HIRING someone to do my work for me chaffed...and more than just a little bit.  While we toiled with the idea of a gardener, a nannie or maid was out of the question for me.  My engineer had a considerable amount of work on his plate with his new position, and I had a 20 month old to care for.  It didn't take long for us to decide to go ahead and hire a gardener.

The first thing that struck me was how little the going rate for domestic services actually was.  Here was this man with a family to care for, taking care of my yard every day for $20 a week.  After talking to some friends who had lived in the country for over two decades, I got a little solace from discovering that they paid their gardener a sizable bonus during the religious holidays.  Unfortunately, that didn't lift the feeling that we were taking advantage of him.

The longer we lived in the Orient, the more I saw how different people functioned as "employers."  While some were thoughtful and responsible, others appeared to feel that it was cheap labor to be had, so take it while you can!  I am not condemning those who hired help around the house.  However, I cannot deny the fact that, in some cases, it was abused.

In a male centric society, do you really want someone else raising your child?  I will never forget the day when my Angel and I were coming home from the commissary and I saw something that made my blood absolutely boil.  She and I were walking into housing when I saw a little girl who couldn't have been three years old yet, toddling in the street, no adult around.  Naturally, I hurried to her.  Standing there, with my angel in the stroller and this little one holding my hand, I looked up and down the street, trying to figure out where she came from.  During that frantic search, I spotted, 3 blocks away, a nannie pushing a stroller, turning down a side street.  Picking up the little one and pushing my own stroller, I raced to catch up to her.  Calling out to her, half way down the next street, I failed to get her attention.  Running, I finally caught up with her.  Turning around, she saw her charge in my arms.  Instead of being ashamed of the fact that she had, indeed, lost this child, she grabbed the little girl and scolded her.  Looking in the stroller, I saw a baby boy, fast asleep.  Outraged, I stepped between this howling woman and the little girl.  To say that I gave her a piece of my mind doesn't describe what happened in the least.  Intent on finding out who that little girl's mother was, I followed that nanny.  She must have circled housing 4 times before I had to go home because of my groceries.  To this day, I wish, with all my heart that I had been able to find the mother of that poor child.

Not all situations were like this.  Some domestic help were great and were managed appropriately.  I do chuckle when I think of the stories that one maid, in particular, would tell me about her employers.  She worked for several families and was much sought after.  As a matter of fact, my engineer had hired her with the hopes of giving me a little time off.  Though a nice thought, that didn't last very long.  Two months after coming once a week, E very quietly told me that she felt bad taking my money since our home was already so clean.  Understanding both her morale integrity and her pride, I told her that she could stay with us until she found a suitable replacement for our day.  Our replacement turned out to be a doozy for her.

I liked E a lot.  She worked hard, cared much, and had the most heartwarming smile I had ever seen.  Her eyes had a way a laughing though she carried herself quietly.  E went from our house to the Xum Family.  While she no longer worked in our home, that does not mean that I didn't see her often.  My Angel and I had a habit of going to the park in the evening when the temperatures began to drop.  E would join us to visit.  As we talked about family, food, and life, naturally, the Xum Family would come up as well.  Shaking her head and clucking her tongue, she would go into the misadventures of both taking care of the house AND the kids.

Now, E was a maid...NOT a nanny.  While she didn't mind caring for children now and then, her real work was caring for the house.  I knew that when we hired her and only went out while my Angel slept.  Unfortunately, the Xum Family decided to ignore that memo.  Setting her bag down, E would look at my Angel and say that the Xum children were nothing like her.  Because of the Xum Family's status in the community, she was a bit scared about leaving them.  Understanding her concerns, I would remind her that they would only be there for two years at the most and the time would fly by.  Whether that helped her or not, I have no clue.  What I do know is that I got an earful from her during the year that followed.

Many people arrived intent on having the complete Orient package.  Normally not ones to hire gardeners or maids, they would set out trying to find the best ones that could be had to fulfill their dream of having the "Orient Assignment" experience.  While many knew how to balance their "normal" lives with these new elements in the equation, several simply had them to "Keep Up with the Joneses," so to speak. Of all the cultural oddities that I had to adjust to, this was the hardest for me.  At the time, I felt that, eventually, I might feel differently about the whole situation.  I was wrong.