A Governmental Disruption

If my household ever reached a point of near perfection my life in India may cease to interest me. After a month-long holiday, I came home to sad news. Ambrose, my driver, my one dependable rock in this rocky India has told me he is leaving my employ. After two years of waiting for a response to his government application, he has been chosen.

I was losing him to the government. It was unfathomable. Why would anyone want to work with a government known to be inefficient and corrupt? I asked everyone. Here is what I found. Working for the government meant taking a pay cut but also the right to look forward to a pension upon retirement. It meant that Ambrose had a job for life. It meant medical and dental insurance. It meant a provident fund. It meant that he could have government housing with subsidized rent. He had no choice, I did not stand a chance against all this. I steeled myself to replacing Ambrose. Had it been another job, I would have asked him to stay. But this was clearly good for him and his family so I gave him my blessing to go and work for the blasted government. Had it been any other job, he said, he would not have left me.

In the meantime, I was fortunate to find Azad. Azad spoke English well and for five years was employed by my very good friend Menchie. Rachel reminded me that Azad would never be Ambrose and I had better accept that reality. So I tried my best. Azad didn't anticipate my needs as Ambrose did. He didn't know that the first time I opened the door in the morning, my tennis bag needed to go in the car. He didn't know that the second time I opened the door in the morning, we were heading out to the tennis court. He just didn't know all the little signals. Poor Azad. And yet, Azad showed me places I had never seen before. Going to the same places I frequented, Azad took different routes. His knowledge of Delhi roads was amazing! Even returning to D-block was an adventure. Azad was not Ambrose, but he was also amazingly good. A little fine-tuning was all that was necessary and I was willing to be patient. I prepared myself for a period of adjustment, an Azad breaking in period.

One evening during the first week of Ambrose departure, I got a clipped message from him.
"Madam I am leaving my job. I am not satisfy."

"Come back to me." was my quick reply.

We had a brief phone conversation. In spite of all the good things that he looked forward to, what could make him leave a job that was so clearly the dream of his peers? He was not happy. He was among government employees who used harsh language. He was slated to work from 8:00 am to 4:00 pm but often worked much later without any recompense. Most of the time the drivers sat around among themselves. He was bored. Plus, he adds, they want him to wear a bush jacket! No jeans and long sleeved shirts. Maybe that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Everything would have been bearable but not to be allowed to wear jeans was just unacceptable!

Ambrose is back. He reads my signals as he has for a year and a half. He puts up my window sunshades in the mornings. He gets my tennis bag to the car. We continue our routine. Only now, he knows that whatever is out there can't be better than right here.