Working it out with helpers

JAKARTA (JP): The motivation was purely selfish. Being eight months pregnant when I found out I was having twins was a great sway to saying yes to my husband's question of whether he should take up a job offer in Jakarta in 1989.

It was not like I had not been to this city before, I reasoned. We had already had three vacations here. The "family" was easy to get along with, they spoke good English, I loved the food and there was the added bonus of household help to take care of whatever chores needed to be done around the home.

What more could a young mother ask for?

So it was with rose-colored glasses that we packed up the house and four kids and winged our way to the land of smiles.

What, you may wonder, was the problem. What could be better than not having to wash, iron, cook, or clean ever again! No more bathroom cleaning or lawn mowing for hubby! Joy oh joy!

Little did we know how unprepared we were for dealing with staff that was in our face for what seemed like 24 hours a day. The house we moved into was generously offered by one of my husband's sisters; a three-bedroom house for us and one bedroom out the back for the maids.

That was my first shock. I pulled my husband aside and asked him whether it was normal to put two people in a room two meters by four meters? As the maids did not complain, we figured it was the norm. Luckily when we built our own house, we could give them bigger rooms.

Another problem, for me at least, was language. Every morning after my husband left for the office I was left to deal with maids who, of course, knew no English. Much giggling on their part and frustration on mine made for horrible beginnings. My cook would ask what I wanted prepared for that day. Why's she asking me, I thought, she's the cook. Out came my Indonesian cookbook. I'd point to a couple of recipes and off she'd go.

We had one maid to do the washing and ironing and one to do the cooking and they shared the cleaning and gardening. And they both took into their heads they would help with the children, especially the twins. I loved it.

Then I began to feel guilty. Even though my husband is originally from Indonesia, we found it difficult to tell the maids what to do, so we ended up doing most of the household jobs ourselves. While other people's maids in the complex were washing cars, sweeping lawns and watering gardens, our maids were taking babies for walks while my husband and I slogged it out around the house.

But time dissolves all guilt.

By the time we could afford to take a family trip "home" to see my family and our friends we had learned the art of delegation. My eldest sister-in-law was a great help here; a woman of great poise she had many staff who seemed to be constantly scurrying about. When I explained to her about our problem of telling our staff what to do, she said we shouldn't feel awkward. She helped me find a way I could ask the maids to do jobs without feeling like I was lording it over them. It was, after all, what they were paid for, she said regally.

My family and friends were envious. With a slightly jealous cast in their eye they would ask how many staff we had. By this time we had the original two, plus a gardener, a driver and a lady who came in the mornings to clean the floors. In their eyes, my position was made.

But as I told them of the problems that went along with household staff -- trying to downplay the embarrassing sense of "ladyshipness" I felt -- I also realized how much we were doing for these people and how responsible we were for their well- being. The only income these workers have is from my husband and I, and while their wages might not sound much to a person who has never lived here or had household help, there is, on a different level, a greater responsibility Indonesian employers have toward their staff than just paying wages. We give them a place to live, pay for their food, pay their doctor's bills, give them money when they need to go home and take care of their family.

If they have small children (and, of course, most of them do), we help with their education. If, for instance, they want to buy land in their home villages, we give them a loan. We become entangled in their families almost to the extent they are entangled in ours.

Older long-serving household staff are family. They know just about everything there is to know about their employers; they are always there. If a mother is being firm, you can bet there is a maid who will be the first person the child runs to. When a mother decides now is not the time for a snack, mbah or bu de can be counted on to find something for the child to nibble on quietly.

The old ways of treating staff like glorified slaves are, hopefully, over for most Indonesian household help. Yes, their wages may be low by foreign standards, but then the average Indonesian is not flush with cash. What really needs to change is the demeaning attitudes, found in young and old, toward domestic helpers. Those people need to wake up to the fact that, without their helpers, life would be a whole lot more difficult for them.

-- Martina Zainal