I made the maid cry

Last week i made the maid cry.

 

For you who do not speak DXB, a maid is a great combo of cleaning lady, baby sitter, grocery shopping, au pair, and whatever else you would need to run your house properly. If you consider that the architecture of a house or an apartment takes into account this very local need by including a "maid room" and "maid bathroom", you can guess how important this person is for the society.

Some households have a full-time maid at home as "almost part of the family" (heard in the CDG airport "yes we go on holidays together, she takes care of the kids while we rest, but it's just not the same"); some on the other hand, like us, ask a maid to come and help clean the apartment once in a while.

It took me some time to understand the concept and have someone  come and clean my dishes, iron my shirt, vacuum my dust. After the past years living in a Scandinavian country, and partly on my own, I have been used to take care of myself and deal with my stuff, and i have troubles accepting that someone fixes the stuff that I have messed up. But after a few times, i have admitted that this is nice to come to a freshly clean apartment without having even moved a finger.

Since i moved in June, i have also met a few girls and boys and even developed a certain preference towards a few. I have been asked each time if i'm married, if i'm a housewife, and if i'm pregnant = the most relevant reasons for a woman to be home on working hours. Yes i am married, yes i work (or at list worked), no i am not pregnant. But yes if you are nice i might consider you to keep the baby when necessary.

Last week i met a new girl. Very sweet, very shy, she apologized couple of times for asking questions and checking if what she was doing was right. Previously working as cleaning lady in hospitals, she wasn't used to help in private apartments. Actually she even did not like it, she said, "because from one place to another you don't really know what to expect and how people will be". She apologized when someone called her on the phone, she thanked me even more when i gave her a Coke to drink.

 Before leaving, she filled the usual receipt from the maid company, for my signature. I always leave a comment on the paper, knowing that it will most probably be reviewed by the manager, and who knows, it might affect her employment there. I signed, I paid, I gave her her well deserved tip and a bunch of English magazines that would end up in the bin otherwise. Then she looked at the receipt, and she started crying in front of me.

I had written "very good service".

She apologized for crying, and hugged me. As it was a first i got fairly surprised and asked what was going on: "you wrote I did a good work, and I am so happy about it. It makes me happy because when I read this, I completely forget that I am tired and that it is not easy". And she hugged me again in a great crying smile. In 2 sentences she just broke my heart. After she left i sat down for a few minutes, pretty brainless.

Since January I've been looking for a job, and my personal situation, both socially and financially, allows me to be demanding in my choices. I find myself fairly simple, but I do not count the dirhams in my pocket to get extra caramel on my latte macchiato. I sometimes wonder how much tip I should leave at the restaurant, and I do not care much of the "ma'm/sir" anymore. But this girl slapped my ethical choices efficiently, reminding them that life here, as a Western housewife, is not real, not the reality that I want.

Last week i made the maid cry.