... let me tell you now that it may be a L-O-N-G and rambling post, it's not a whine (or a whinge) post.
I'll save any complaining or frustrations that I have for my Husb ... who comes home after a long day of working with and managing 500+ employees (to listen to my issues of having a group to manage that is less than ten).
Instead, it's a post about how the inner workings of having three women working inside your home (and 5 men outside of your home) can affect the inner dialogue that runs constantly in my head.
A friend from the blog-o-sphere recently asked me :
So you talk often about your housekeeper, and having staff. But how is it REALLY to have staff? Do you and the girls talk? Do you know their backgrounds? Are you friends? Are you simply cordial or do you talk about stuff that friends would talk about? How many hours do they work?I've had that email sitting in my inbox for quite awhile. I think I've been waiting until the time that employing a staff felt like second nature. Where I could spit off the answers to her questions without searching for appropriate responses.
But, I figured it's time to just discuss the nuts and bolts of how our house runs.
I have never been a housekeeper ... so much so that laundry bins of half-folded clothes often sat in our living room for days on end, and thank goodness for the electric dishwasher, otherwise, we'd be purchasing paper plates in bulk at Costco.
Here in Delhi, we have three gals that work inside our home to help keep everything in order.
Shakuntella comes three days a week, and works for another family on her off days from our home. She travels approximately 2 hours to reach our house. She greets the family members with a sweet "Namaste" and meanders into the kitchen to visit for a bit with Shanti.
I've no idea how old Shakuntella is, but as I've met her 20-something daughter, I'd blindly guess she's about 45? She has a sweet and very mellow personality and goes about her work quietly and unobtrusively.
Shakuntella's job is that of a "dhobi", which means that she is responsible for the washing, drying and ironing/folding of our laundry. Every night, we toss our soiled clothes into the hamper and magically it all appears back upstairs folded, ironed, hung up and neatly pressed.
Our family has never known the luxury of having clothes where they are supposed to be, let alone having our undergarments pressed!
Which brings me to Sushila ... who has the back half of the laundry solution, as she puts the clothes physically away in the drawers and closets. Nice, right? There are many frustrations with this process as I no longer have an answer when someone hollers "where is my BLUE shirt?" or "I'm out of SOCKS!!". At least before, I could sheepishly answer something along the lines of "um, maybe the dryer isn't finished yet?" or "go look in the red laundry basket in the dining room."
Sushila comes six days a week and has two additional homes to clean besides ours. She spends approximately three hours at our house each day, which includes the girls' chai time (from about 9:45 - 10:30 each day) where they sit cross-legged on the floor, let their hair down from their bobby pins, eat toast with butter and drink their tea -- chatting away all the while.
Sushila spoils us rotten and makes our beds, cleans the floors AND the toilets. She picks up the kids' messes -- which actually causes more grief than rejoicing, as not only are the kids not held responsible for putting away their things, often time we can't find any of the items we are most anxious to find.
Sushila gets a ride to and from our house with her husband, who has a motorcycle. She has three children who are all in elementary school.
Shanti started working for us in November. Even-tempered and quiet, she is our cook and also a part-time ayah (nanny) for the two littles. Mia stays with her in the afternoons during the school year so that she doesn't have to be dragged across the school campus when I go to pick up the boys. She keeps them in the mornings when school is not in session so I can do my volunteering, go for a run or participate in Seven Cities or a photography class.
She has a 10 year old daughter who is in a boarding school in the south part of India. She said once that she sees her an average of one time per year, but was proud of the fact that she sends her a birthday package every year and tries to send her things from time to time when she can afford it. She is currently pregnant and due to deliver sometime in October.
She is a whiz with the cookbook and can follow a recipe like no other. She responds to every request with "of course, Ma'am" and does her best to keep up with Tony on the Wii.
It's a shame - on some levels - that the girls and I don't spend more time talking and learning about each other. On the other hand, I am trying to maintain a healthy separation between employer and employee.
It seems natural that when you spend so much time with other women, that a friendship would naturally come to be ... but warnings abound against crossing the line between boss and buddy.
I talk to some women who happen to be very close to their "house help" (oh, how I don't like that term) ... and others who regard them as simply their staff ... barely speaking to them on a daily basis.
I have a heart. I have a big heart that ::
- wants no one to go hungry
- would prefer to see children appropriately dressed
- cringes when I see women in the streets of Delhi doing the work more fitted to a man
- celebrates family ... and the time spent with your loved ones and
- wants everyone to have a fair shake.
When we made the decision to not return to the United States this past summer, it affected more than just us five ... and our friends and families.
It meant that those people that we employ would not be spending quality time with THEIR families ... that they have been accustomed to for the past 8-10 years.
You see, most expats that we know vacate Delhi for the summer. Everyone packs up and heads out (some even the NIGHT that school lets out) ... only to return when the cooling monsoon rains have started ... and the first bell of the school year is nearing time to ring.
This mass exodus means that a majority of the folks working for expats gets a nice chunk of the summer off, free to spend that time with their families.
While we've taken some great trips this summer, we are an expat family who has chosen to stay put in Delhi for the better part of the typical "holiday months" ... which in turn requires those on our payroll to also show up and do their jobs during this time period.
If you ask my heart what I think about that, it makes me terribly sad to realize that the drivers are limited to seeing their wives and children only twice this summer break (for a total of 2 weeks) ... and that the girls we've hired are required to continue their "9-5" routine, while their children were on break from school.
If you ask my brain what I think about that, our situation is no different than the numerous embassy families who don't take a summer holiday away ... or the families where the breadwinner stays behind (requiring staff to remain on duty) ... or the local Indian families who employ a houseful of staff and don't run for "home" when June rolls around on the calendar.
If you ask my brain ... it is not a big deal and I should not pay any mind to it.
But if you ask my heart, it's a different story.
I spend my days lolling around on the floor with the kids doing random art projects, painting, playing video games, eating Lays potato chips with them, making brownies and creating small towns out of recycled cardboard boxes.
I spend an awful amount of time on my computer - either emailing or chatting with friends from back home, reading too many blogs, searching for new music to listen to, learning about cool new things the kids might like to make.
I spit out our requests for lunch, and leave a sticky note on the counter prescribing what we'd like for dinner. We leave empty glasses on the nightstand and the next time we see our dirty clothes that have been idly tossed into the hamper, they are laundered, pressed and ironed.
There are times that I feel incredibly guilty because I'm sure I appear to them to not do much of anything. Their mothering jobs are still waiting for them back at home when they finish their days' work at OUR home. The guys who do the driving for this family aren't present to enjoy the success of a new grade passed or even the arguments about when bedtime is.
There are the moments where the girls ask if I'm ok. They say, with their held tilted to the left, "Ma'am doesn't look well today" or "Ma'am looks more tired today ..." Sometimes it gets me riled up because it's no one's business if I'm stressed, or didn't sleep good the night before, or what have you. On the other hand, it's nice to know that they are caring and are paying attention.
There's the occasions where Shanti kneels down to hug Mia when she's upset and Mia melts into her warm hug. Or the times when Sushila squeezes Tony's cheeks and says in broken English that she likes his drawing. Shakuntella has not spent a day at work this summer without breaking into giggling fits because Terran is still sleeping at noon. Tony has a silly routine with one of the guards that puts everyone into a riotous round of laughter and is known to sneak outside to play Ludo with the drivers and guards. Terran often has deep conversations with Kushal about life and the pursuit of happiness.
I think that this household has a pretty amazing set of people working for us ... and I am thankful for the time and dedication they give to us.
One year later, and I still struggle with the balance between requiring that the people we employ do their job to the best of their ability, and the obligation I feel to be a fair employer. I struggle with how to make sure that they do the job that we need them to perform, yet still treat them with respect.
(you should read that bit about being a fair employer to mean :: honoring requests for time off, forgiving the late arrivals in the morning due to the bus running late and turning a blind eye to sometimes slip-shod work)
I still haven't figured it out and may never come to terms with employing staff. We have invited folks into our home to do most of the things that I was tasked with doing before. We've intentionally invited them into our space ... and we've come to trust them with our well-being and safety, yet we have to hold them at arms' length.
All of the expat experts admonish to not get too close, to not get personal. The "how to" books all say that there should be strict policies set in place. Be sure to clarify what you expect and what you will receive in exchange for a salary that is, quite honestly, pittance comparatively speaking to anything you'd expect to pay someone who works six days a week and supports a family.
I have a heart ... and it's hard sometimes to figure out how to honor that fact ... when I'm expected (and struggling) to dole out the rules and regs for how we expect our kitchen to be cleaned, whether or not the kids' toys should be picked up for them, or demanding that our clothes be hung up properly in the closet after ironing instead of laid across the back of a chair in the dining room.
Maybe it gets easier after the first twelve months? Maybe the lines between head and heart blur a bit and everyone settles into a situation where (matters of the heart aside) the only thing that matters at the end of the day is making sure "Ma'am" is happy?
I'd love to hear from those of you who grew up in India. What was your experience like during childhood? Do you employ staff currently? How do you achieve the balance between treating everyone fairly and with kindness, yet still maintain a "boss" mentality?
