In Other People’s Home

We are said to be a poor nation. The poor in this country outnumber the rich by many folds. Hence, many of our countrymen are forced to seek a better life in distant lands.

Others are not as daring – or not as knowledgeable – to go to faraway places to find jobs. There’s no place like home, they say. They don’t say whose home, though, whether one’s own or other people’s.

For one thing, life is relatively inexpensive here. Even the average wage earners are still able to afford certain luxuries. Among the frills commonly enjoyed is having a house help, sometimes even two or more.

Maids come aplenty. A lot of young girls from the city’s depressed communities or from remote rural barrios are in need of a job, any job, to help support their families. And they don’t cost much.

These poor girls are only too grateful to be taken into the more affluent households. Their pay here, no matter how little, is net of their own cost of living; unlike those that work as salesgirls or in factories who still have to pay for their board and lodging. As maids, their whole earnings go straight home.

They have been given a common name: atsay. This name, as we all know, bears a trace of humiliation; too unkind indeed to brand them whose service and loyalty can sometimes be better than those of blood relatives. Worse, they are often looked down on as dumb, simply because of their meek demeanor.

When the atsay eventually senses the lowly regard for her, especially by her masters, she begins to be uncomfortable working. She becomes unhappy of her job, and goes about her chores with a dejected expression on her face. But she stays put; she has no other choice.

She does her tasks with nervous silence. It now takes her three repetitions before getting anything right. Her skills fritter away out of fear of making mistakes that, ironically, she bungles even the simplest chores. She is so afraid of earning the disdain of her masters that she psyches herself out of tasks which she used to do perfectly.

She asks her masters the same questions over and over. She would ask, after having done it for the longest time, how to operate the washing machine. She would tell her Ma’am that someone called but could not remember the caller. When her Sir asks for coffee, she puts in pepper instead of sugar.

Her blunders drive her masters crazy. She is screamed at and dealt with harshly. All the more the poor girl’s view of herself shrinks as she gets exactly what she most dreads.

Her name is not really Inday, although that’s how she is often addressed. She is Marilyn or Jennifer or Genevieve. Back at home with her family, she is a respected daughter or sister, always to be consulted on important family decisions.

But here at work in other people’s household, she is often treated as a less significant creature than the family dog. When Blackie refuses his food in the morning, he is sure to be in the vet’s clinic by noon. Inday still has to do the laundry even if she has a fever.

 This distressed human being definitely deserves some degree of positive attention, of respect and understanding. It is not easy to be in her shoes (if she has shoes at all). She needs help to overcome her terror of making mistakes, to feel assured of the continuing goodwill of her masters.

If only she had the chance at good education like her masters, she would not be working in their household. Inday would probably be a hotshot at the stock market or leading this nation to prosperity. Then she would be earning much, so much more – both money and admiration.

Treating the house help kindly works not only for her good but for her masters’, as well.

She may be less educated, but valuable nonetheless. Many people would not have been able to pursue careers or grow businesses, if there were no house helps they could trust to run their households in their absence.

For all the things she does for her masters, for the necessary service she renders for them, the house help is not a stranger in their house, as in their lives. She is, by all means, part of the family. She would forgo attending a relative’s funeral if there is no one else to look after her masters’ sick child.

A person is not dumb simply because she lacks education or is poor. Instead, it is often the needy or the less educated that wouldn’t mind when she’s getting the downside of the deal. Most important of all, her loyalty, once earned, is often unshakeable. (E-MAIL: [email protected])