Another One Bites the Dust...and Angels Fall from Heaven

Just when I think I can live with the status quo, bam, everything changes~! Yes, you guessed it right, this is another Apprentice installment!

I've introduced you to spitfire Mary. We've managed a reasonable relationship over the two months--I stay out of the house while she is there. She cleans, thoroughly by her standards, reasonably well for mine. All is well in spite of the frequent "Madam, I don't like your (fill in the blank, rice, milk, etc...)" encounters which I've managed to avoid by just getting out of her way.

Bravely, and foolishly, I planned a luncheon party for three friends who are leaving Delhi in the summer. I kept the party down to a reasonable number, ten, the maximum my dining table can sit. I was prepared to do the marketing, cutting, chopping, cooking, table setting, flower arrangements. I was counting on a clean house and someone to wash the dishes when all was done. Though I knew it would be a lot to take on, I decided that we all are blessed abundantly in material ways that the only way to express my thanks and appreciation to these ladies was through this labor of love. And now, this!

Early Saturday morning, Sharma Sir took us on a shoot at the little lake outside the Purana Qila. From this angle, the fort was a majestic sight, it's red power rising high above us. Through Sharma Sir's eyes, we saw light and its enthralling effects on portraiture. How awesome to distill his art into a few simple concepts, concepts that make creativity and beauty soar in photography. In spite of the early morning hour, the sun was blazing. We broke off in groups trying to recreate and practice the few simple concepts he imparted to us.

I left David to instruct Mary to do two things: clean three windows and dust the sofa (yes, dust the sofa--only if you have lived in Delhi will you know why this is a must.) I was shocked to hear that Mary refused to do the three windows telling David that she had too much work and that it was not her job. When I got home, I once again asked her to clean the windows. Again, the reply was that there was too much work in my house, that it was not her job.

Alright. Mentally, I pushed my sleeves up ready for this encounter, ready to "get my hands dirty" to sort this all out.

Madam, there is too much work in this house. That is not my job, you need to get someone else to clean those windows.

Mary, you don't cook.
You don't wash.
You don't iron.
You ask me for transport money, I give it to you.
You ask me for uniforms, I give it to you.
You ask me for slippers, I give it to you.
You ask that you work 7 hours without a lunch break I give it to you (in spite of the fact that I know you take a lunch break).
You don't like my brown rice, I get you white rice.
You don't like my skimmed milk, I get you your Mother Dairy milk.
Though we don't keep bread at home, I get you your bread for your snack.
I did not have to do any of those things, it is not my job.
I ask you to clean three windows and it is not your job?

Madam, there is too much work. I clean the kitchen everyday, it takes four hours.

Four hours! How can the kitchen take four hours?

The exchange continued, her voice escalating. Madam, everyday you complain. You tell me this not clean, you see this, you complain. Everyday complain, complain.

Mary, the other day, I told you that you threw my new contact lenses out. This cost me R600!
Yes Madam, that was my mistake.

I pulled out the dryer and bins from the laundry room and showed you all the dust and dirt that had accumulated there. You have never swept there!
Madam, that is my mistake, that is my job.

Today, I told you the sofa was incredibly dusty, dust accumulated not over a day or a week but over months! Yes madam, that is my job, that is my mistake.

Madam, for 25 years I work for British, they not complain. Everyday you complain, complain, complain. If you not like I work here, I go.

What unmitigated insolence!

I left her to her work and enlisted David and Ambrose to help me clean the three windows in the dining room. We got the job done and my ladies can now enjoy the park view over lunch.

Here is my question to you. If Mary works seven hours today, and seven hours everyday, how is there too much work? Seven hours work is seven hours work. At the interview, she said she would do whatever work needed to be done. Ah yes, the courtship stage, promises, promises! And at what particular point does a reminder become a complaint? And what is the best approach to all this? Should I breathe down her neck about every little thing so that she gets used to my presence (as I have been strongly advised to do) or should I stay out of her way and have as little contact as possible and have my every comment taken badly? Where does the balance lie? I have not been able to understand the psyche of the Indian domestic helper this after having lived with help for practically all of my life.

I mulled over keeping her or firing her. David advised me strongly that I should fire her immediately. He added, "I have 2,000 people working for me. I know." And of course he was right. True to form, he added, "but you are coming close to 2,000 too." Oh yes, nothing like a little acerbic wit to diffuse a situation. And you know what? Our stint in India might just come to that--2,000 helpers in 3 years is starting to look like a possibility.

We calculated her pay, paid her over and above that (though I really wanted my money back for the slippers and uniforms) and sent her on her way. In parting, I said, "Mary, I am sorry this did not work out." She picked up her sandals, walked out, slammed the door with nary a murmur of thanks. Unmitigated insolence!

As Ambrose holds the Apprentice of the Year title, Raju's claim to fame, among other things is being an excellent maid pimp. Pardon the crudeness, but truly, if you were witness to our household goings on, you too would agree. The last go round, he sent me elderly ladies who could barely walk, a young girl with painted face and purple nails and all sorts and sizes in between! This afternoon, barely 48 hours after Mary's departure and two hours after we put Raju to task he has brought me Rosie, his brother's sister-in-law!

Rosie is a young girl with a smiling face to camouflage her lack of English. I have her in my kitchen now and I have decided to test her mettle. I've warned her that I want someone who wants to work hard. I believe I got that point across. Everything remains to be seen.

I try and remind myself constantly that life is too short to spend even one moment in frustration and anger. So I've decided to roll with the punches, Rosie cleans while I blog. Tomorrow is another day and I will be ready for the delights or debacles to come.

Domestic disasters continue to haunt me. I have not managed to conquer that chapter of my Indian experience. But this much I know, this much I have manged. Mary bites the dust but I now have wonderful and true friends who have come to my rescue. As angels from heaven they have volunteered to come and help me cook and get ready for tomorrow's luncheon party. That is an achievement.