EXPERIENCE
If only I could ask Jeeves
SOFIA GHORI SALEEM
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Is there a perfect answer to the daily chores? A humorous look at the travails of hiring domestic help.
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Today I’m on to maid number five. It’s been a few weeks since my move into my new home in an expatriate community and my endeavours at settling in have resulted in some interesting anecdotal experiences. One of my first priorities was to find reliable domestic help. My search that started with a great deal of relaxed optimism has now reached a state of feverish desperation. For the first few “domestic help” encounters, I went into backgrounds and histories and the entire gamut of personal relations. I was meticulous about remembering names, and every detail. This last one has just stuck in my head as Number 5.
There was a popular western song by Lou Bega called “Mambo Number 5” that was an international bestseller: A little bit of Monica …/A little bit of Erica by my side/A little bit of Rita is all I need/A little bit of Tina is what I see
I wake up each morning to this song playing in my head. I’ve dealt with Monica, Erica, Rita and Tina for a little bit and that didn’t work. So who am I going to deal with today? Will this blurry of names, faces and work styles ever settle down? Which one will last?
Rules of the game
This was supposed to be easy. Leading up to my move, I had endless people enumerate all the blessings of living in India. The household help was topmost on everyone’s list — imagine no cleaning or washing dishes. What a break! For all those who don’t permanently reside here anymore, the rules of the game have changed. I’ve had maids approach me with letters of recommendation and a list of references. They operate through cell phones and give interviews. There is even a mutual trial period to see if the price is right for the services rendered. And they have their fixed hours and holidays. To a potential recruit, a foreigner is more attractive employer than a desi. Foreign food habits are easier and involve less cleaning up — or so is the general impression. Maids that speak Hindi, or even better English, are in the top salaried bracket. In addition, the more personable and friendly one is, the better chances of success with a non-desi employer.
In response to this professional “hiring” process, my colleague, detail-oriented as always, drew up a spreadsheet like chart, tabularised into headings such as “cell phone number”, “hours of work”, “languages spoken”, “wages expected”, “jobs undertaken”. After completing his selection process, he then helpfully passed on his shortlist of “also ran” candidates to me.
As word spread of my new move, several maids stopped by, to look for better opportunity, or job hop or simply to gawk at the new kid in the block. It’s their way of testing the waters to see what this potential new employer has to offer. And why not? When the rest of the world is always on the path to better opportunity, it’s time the maid universe became upwardly mobile as well. I’m willing to bet that the maid grapevine is stronger than the memsaab grapevine. I’m sure the rumours fly, stories abound and tips get exchanged. They probably have a number for me as well: something like “the madam in house 250” or the “memsaab with the 1000 dishes”. I’m also convinced that there is a pecking order with a few of them running a recruitment service and offering placements for a sizeable cut.
Comfort zone
My high maid turn around is not an indicator of my pickiness. I’m no high strung ogre that’s mighty hard to please. It just boils down to a comfort zone thing. After years of doing my own laundry, I am slowly getting accustomed to turning over my circle of control to a third party. In a way we’re both on trial — seeing if this is a mutually beneficial partnership.
Wistfully I think of the perfect answer to my domestic duties — Jeeves, the quintessential butler who glides in and out of the room like a shadow. The knowledgeable and discreet assistant who appears like a flash with a ready solution to every plumbing leak and appliance breakdown. The amiable aide with a can-do attitude and no emotional baggage or axes to grind. I can now understand the tremendous popularity of Jeeves; his need is felt everywhere.
The time has come to take this “domestic help” professionalism a step further and ingrain it into our attitudes and day to day interaction with our domestic staff. From time to time, maids do get roundly chastised for minor errors. More and more Indians today are well travelled and have lived and worked in places around the world. Our perceptions of value for human life have deepened and rude behaviour is becoming increasingly repugnant to many of us. The principles of respect for human dignity and self esteem that we experience and practice around the world, would work well on our own impoverished people in our native homeland as well. After all, treating everyone with courtesy is a value that is enshrined in our Indian National pledge.
There goes the door bell. That must be No. 5 reporting to work. Will this candidate be the right fit for my family?
If only I could ask Jeeves.
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