The Apprentice

Managing a household in India is something akin to managing one of Donald Trump's businesses.

Being in Delhi for almost 4 months now, it seems I am in the fourth season of the show, each season (month) full of frustrating, disappointing, and yet memorable moments as each apprentice is put to the rigorous test then finally sent to the "boardroom."

Season one's premier contestant was Suresh. Having been highly recommended by friends as being the original anti-dust, anti-dirt guy, I hoped that he would be the Mary Poppins who would set my household straight, unpack every box, put every pot and pan in place in my kitchen, clean every dusty corner of our new home, and cook the delicious gourmet meals he boasted of. I have sent this young man to the "boardroom" numerous times and yet, remarkably, he still works for me. He has failed in many ways yet has succeeded in ways I had not anticipated. Yes true to his reputation, he is anti-dust, anti-dirt--but only around, not under things, and only in some, not all parts of the house. When he sets his mind to a task, his performance is outstanding. Yet when he decides to be uninterested, well, those are the dark days he is summoned to the "boardroom."

Breaking in a new home means a lot of fine tuning, finding all its little creaks and leaks then addressing each one--a very painful process indeed! In India where the 80-10-10* rule reigns supreme, the frustration level is especially high. The combination of undisciplined labor and poor communication made for a very rough adjustment period when carpenters, painters, masons, electricians, and plumbers seemed to stream into the house constantly.

My first few weeks in our home were the worst I've spent in India. Trouble ranged from people promising to show up then never coming to the take-the-shoes-off-and- endure-smelly-feet or leave-the-shoes-on-and bring-all Delhi dirt-inside house dilemma. When I finally smartened up, I used Suresh as a buffer between the repairmen and myself. All of a sudden, he was promoted from a house cleaner to the Director of Maintenance. What empowerment! Where before he could only boss around poor Max the cat, now, he could direct the workers with authority! I handed him the cordless phone so that I could reach him wherever he was currently supervising. I was oh so tempted to give him a megaphone as well so that he could bark at the workers more effectively!

Surprisingly, maintenance work continues daily even after four months of breaking this house in. And thus, Suresh continues to hold the title Director of Maintenance. Makes him feel great even if he still has to sweep and dust and clean. Everyone needs to be the boss of someone.

My one apprehension about having a male housekeeper is well, that he is a he! Gender bias aside, women pay more attention to detail and should intuitively know what another woman expects.

I could not be more wrong.

Season two. In comes Sangeeta. Oh a wonderful cook she is with a perfect command of English! I made my expectations clear. She is the manager of the household, responsible for cooking, cleaning, washing, marketing, and organizing Suresh and his tasks. I was ecstatic! Finally, a mother who would keep house and put home cooked meals into my stomach that had only restaurant food for the last month, a woman who would buffer me from Suresh too! Oh, life is sweet!

Day 1, Sangeeta is the perfect frugal gourmet! Spending the littlest of Rupees to make the most delicious of meals, she was a wonder woman in the kitchen!

Day 2, Sangeeta is still the perfect frugal gourmet but I quickly realize that she is a cook at heart and would rather talk about cleaning and organizing than actually cleaning and organizing. Off to the boardroom we go. "Sangeeta, you're fired!"

After many days despairing over the elusive perfect housekeeper, I decide to try a different route. If the more experienced housekeeper/cook is not up to the task of managing my house, then maybe as Pygmalion, I would have to fashion my own Galatea!

Season 3. I decided to put young and inexperienced Miss Skinny to the rigorous test to see if she would be good apprentice material. I sat in the kitchen and instructed her on washing dishes, cleaning counters etc. Being so slight of frame, I had to move the water dispenser so she could dust under there, move the oven so she could clean, lift the Kitchen Aid.... In the bedrooms, I instructed her to make beds before dusting and to dust before sweeping. After three days, I received word that she could not work anymore. All right then, Pygmalion has failed, she was not good apprentice material. However, the next day, she shows up on my doorstep saying she wants to come back to work! But I know not to throw more time into a losing venture..."Miss Skinny, you're fired!"

Season 4. Lovely Panna. Panna is a graceful and beautiful little woman from Darjeeling. She is quiet and uncomplaining. With very little English we struggle to understand each other. My instructions are always answered with the typical bobbing head that to me means neither yes nor no. She goes about her day cleaning and washing, ironing and putting away. The problem is, Daniel's boxers end up in Rachel's closet, David's shirts end up in Daniel's closet, and Daniel's pants and socks end up in my closet. My clothes are all over the place surreptitiously hidden under other clothes! What panic ensues in the morning when everyone is trying to get dressed and searching for just the thing Panna put away! Daniel pleads, "Mom, please fire Panna before I leave so that I can find all my clothes before I have to go to Hong Kong." Poor Panna. This lovely lady was married at 12 and had her only child at 13! Her husband is unemployed; her 16 year old daughter is home, unable to work and yet not at school. She is the sole earner of the family. How can I have the heart to fire her? But I've steeled myself to the fact that to survive India, one must be a little selfish. I decide to keep Panna for half day's work so that I can give myself the chance to go on with my Mary Poppins search. "Panna, you are half-fired!"

Season 4 continues. Tomorrow, Suresh and Panna will continue as they have over the past three weeks. In the afternoon, as Panna exits Sarita comes in. She may be my Mary Poppins but then again, who knows if this search will carry on for many more seasons? I know there is no one perfect housekeeper. Life is give and take, compromise, and acceptance of one another's shortcomings and celebrations of one another's victories. The struggle and the search continue. Wish me luck!

*Life in India according to Sarjvit Singh Dhillon
80% of the work gets done
10% gets done after a lot of chasing
10% will never ever get done so forget it!

Weekend Getaway

It was wonderful to get away from the unforgiving Delhi summer heat.

The four of us, once again a family on a weekend trip, got up at 6am, stumbled into our travelling clothes, packed the car and headed to Rishikesh. Getting there took much more than the 5 1/2 hours the book warned us about. The view on the way was not scenic. We took turns napping and trying to get back the sleep we had lost the night before trying to get organized.

Rishikesh is a lively town full of people in the streets purposefully heading somewhere. Men, women and children all come as pilgrims for their cleansing dip in the Holy Ganga. We walked the length of the amazing suspension bridges, the Lakshman and Ram Jhula. In addition to the bridge congestion from the throng of people walking to the ashram and from tourists like us, the bridge also had rather aggressive motorcycle traffic! One can't truly escape from the 1.2 billion Indians, not even on a bridge high above the Ganga!

The next day, we drove through Dehradun seeing the town's famous clock tower from our car. We did not sample the famous Kwality Toffee of the town as we wanted to hurry and see Mussoorie.

Mussoorie was a wonderful surprise. Temperatures were in the 20s, oh what a blessing! Situated on the top of the foothills of the Himalayas, the views were spectacular, the clouds seemed ever so close and one could almost feel heaven. The air was cool, crisp and clean.

Down below however, the teeming mass of people still filled the streets. We walked up and down the winding streets each side full of merchants of all sorts. There were bangle shops, fruit stalls, handicraft emporiums, clothing stores, you name it, the streets of Mussoorie have it! As expected, the undisciplined traffic was both annoying and intimidating at the same time. On a short stretch, David, Daniel and Rachel had to get up on the narrow bridge sidewalk to avoid being crushed by the oncoming traffic. These drivers allow themselves no margin of error. Just as in life, they seem to be fatalistic, and squeeze their little Marutis and big Scorpios through the streets.

Each corner of each street of India and perhaps particularly Mussoorie holds a photograph. It is hard to miss women colorfully clad in their everyday sarees sitting together just endlessly waiting, or the women clothed in utilitarian cottons carrying piles of plants or stones, or bags on their heads walking towards some unknown destination. It is common to see children riding carriages pushed by hired young hands while their mothers and fathers stroll and shop unencumbered. Smiling children enjoy their horse rides on the main roads. Yogis roam the streets, dressed in the barest local shirt and "diaper pants", walking stick in hand and carrying the most meager of possessions. Long white beard, bandana-ed head, piercing eyes, slight frame, one asked us for money. For an extra 5 Rupees, he allowed me to take his photograph.

I am most tolerant of the way people choose to live their lives. However, seeing people begging the streets in dirty clothes, with no apparent purpose in their aimless walking, I am confused about the validity of their beliefs. Surely the asceticism and meditation supposedly giving the yogi profound understanding into the nature of existence must come after his basic needs are met? What about food and shelter before all the meditation? Or perhaps personal sanitation?

The mass of Indians is overwhelming. It is suffocating to have so many people around, always pressing onto me whether I am on the streets, in a car, or even at home. Moments of quiet and aloneness are very hard to come by in India. It is a world where loneliness exists in a crowd. A friend once told me, "only the tough survive India." Each day, I believe him more and more. I am almost sure I can't change India to suit who I am; I had better face up to the task to living with India the way it is. But I will never give up trying to carve my own space....

True to its reputation for contradiction this India that so oppresses me is full of wonder I am eager to discover. I have only seen the close environs of Delhi. Perhaps there is a chance that India's magic will transform me into a lover of this nation forever precariously perched on greatness.