Day off.

Bald man with pot pelly and multiple tattoos brought in by ambulance after being found passed out by the roadside by passers-by, reeking of alcohol. Army boy with pale-white skin and bread-thick glasses with his hyper-anxious mother lingering behind carrying his bag-pack for him requesting for medical leave from army training. Young man with a nose-ring and eleven other piercings in weird and wonderful places coming in to ask for codeine for pain relief.

One look, and we intuitively know the real reason behind why they are in the Emergency department. We stereotype people because we have to. That is how we feel safe, how we guard ourselves against trickery, mockery and scheming plans. Day by day, we stereotype people without realizing it.

And there is yet another stereotype: the domestic helper who has just started work a few months ago being brought in by her very wealthy and very uptight employer. Typical history? Headache, screaming fit, being possessed.

It’s so common.

We do all the blood tests, run all the scans, start all the necessary symptomatic medication. We shrug our shoulders-It’s another one of those cases.

Next.

It wasn’t until a few days ago where I suddenly began to think about this more seriously. There was a hoo-ha on facebook and in the papers about maids (sometimes we call them “domestic helpers” to disguise our disdain) not being given enough rest days in Singapore. Some were outraged at the response of the members of the public, who justified themselves by commenting how high the maid levy is, how it is impossible to go without a maid for a day each week given the hectic schedules in Singapore and how “good” they are to their domestic helpers.

And then I watched a video which made me tear.

I’ve had a domestic helper in my household for as long as I can remember. Yet, it was only in recent years that I began to see how much they have sacrificed in order to work here. Our first maid worked for us for 13 years. Having had her since I was born, she was like a second mother to me. I grew up speaking fluent Bahasa Indonesian because of her. Then, after 13 loyal years of service, she lied and she stole. My parents sent her back.

Then Yati* came, and she’s been with us for 12 years. She works, day in day out, and it was only after I started work myself that I began to empathize  a little more with her. She has simplified our lives and made it so much easier. She has faithfully cooked and cleaned and washed for us. She has supported us in ways that allow us to do a thousand and one other things outside of home. Now that I’ve started washing, ironing and doing some household chores myself in preparation for married life, I finally understand how tiring domestic work can be, especially after a long day’s work.

The hours are long and the pay is little. One can say there are perks and benefits to this job- staying in a “nice” house, eating comparatively good food, having a safe environment, compared to the living conditions where they came from. But living in a foreign land with little social support, missing out on the growing years of one’s children and having to contend with the demands and whims and temperaments of various family members can be trying and challenging, to say the least.

She was widowed after bearing four children- her husband died suddenly in a road traffic accident. After that, she told me, she went crazy, hysterical. She did not know night from day and had a mental breakdown. After she recovered, she decided to become a domestic helper- it was the only way to raise four kids by herself. Then she left.

On days I return early enough to see her and have the chance to talk to her, I walk to her room and ask how she is. Sometimes, I hear her sobbing over the phone. Her eldest son has a motorbike accident, her youngest daughter misses her and questions why she never sees her, or her sister’s house caught fire. Over the past 12 years, many things have happened. Pictures of her children are placed in her wallet, she looks at them every day. But they are old photos. We ask her when she wants to return and she keeps pushing back the date. The last time she returned for 3 weeks, she sobbed hard every day for weeks after she returned. She says it is so hard to go back and she prefers not to.

“It is easier to talk over the phone,” she says.

One day, over a miscommunication between us, she started to cry. “I don’t have anyone to talk to when I have a heartache,” she says in Bahasa. I listen as she vents.

And I think of the many maids who have left families and dreams and homes behind. Who come here, alone, and work. Day after day after day. Who have clothes to wear and food to eat, but no one to talk to, no one to share their struggles with. Who say “Yes mdm”, “No mdm”, “Sorry mdm” all day.

Sure, we could say they chose this life. But most did so more out of necessity because of their circumstance. Sure, we could say we hold them so tight on leashes, limiting their social circles and forbidding them to take days off or use cell phones because many of them “turn bad”… but what kind of life is that? And we let loose our wrath so easily because we think they are lower than us. We abuse and use them. They makes our lives so much easier but we demand more. We think we pay them so much. We bash world injustices like child slavery and human trafficking.. but perhaps, justice begins in our own homes.

Being a houseman gave me a glimpse to their lives. I didn’t realize how stressful it can be just listening to and taking orders all day long, and getting rapped on the knuckles when one slips. The job is lonely, the hours are long. If it weren’t for the fact that most of us have a fairly strong social network, I think we would manifest with headaches and phantom pains and present at Emergency departments for hyseterical demon –possession episodes too. We would go crazy.

So here is my sharing of a brilliant video a friend made. If you have a domestic helper, ask her how she is today, how her kids are doing, and if you ever get upset with her and have a caustic word to throw out, remember this. Her life is harder than yours.

Day off.

http://vimeo.com/31944254

*name changed to protect privacy