Soon after our new Indo maid arrived, she was seen talking to our postman on his round. It was quite a long discussion but we had to respect her rights too.
Recently, just before we sent off our maid, the postman honked twice and was embarrassed on seeing me instead, and pointed to the letters just delivered and not a registered one as I had expected.
I find Indo maids’ mentality very different from what we expected. When offered food, they are very likely to refuse, yet they preferred eating stealthily. By this, I mean, hiding food in all sorts of places for later consumption. Similarly, even when I offered to post their letters, they would prefer sending through other maids or even the postman.
It may seem unjust to control maids by insisting on knowing who they are talking to or going out with. From our experience alone, a new innocent looking maid could actually have had sex with our factory hand from Nepal within months of her arrival! Their places of work are a few kilometers apart! This was not mere accusation but both parties admitted.
With handphones, usually bought or given by so-called boyfriends with ulterior motives, establishing contact is made so easy. There is no need for the maid to establish contact, some Telekom employees are known to call certain houses to check out if there is a maid. Then knowing whether and what hours she is alone, will lead to a meeting. Some TNB or JBA meter readers are tempted too. To be fair, these groups were under suspicion only. But our phone CLIP and maid’s handphone showed calls later confirmed to be from a Telekom employee.
Stories abound about maids’ indiscretions. There was one boss who commented that his alarm did not seem to work. Later, it was discovered to his horror, that his maid had turned it off later at night and had been using his kitchen or her room, entertaining customers at Rm50 each time! The truth came out when she got pregnant and was looking for an abortion in KL.
There was a doctor’s maid who appeared well behaved. But she always goes out for a couple of hours in the afternoon. Later, it was discovered that she had been using a Telekom van for her business!
There is no doubt that foreign workers and maids have created social problems in our country. Besides being taken advantage of, we have already come across two middle-aged businessmen being “charmed” by them.
Meanwhile, with the current brickbats directed at our Post Office after the increase in postal rates, here is a story in their favour in another country, the Land of Plenty (huge external debts).
There was a man who worked for the Post Office. His job was processing all mail with poorly written addresses (Malaysia has overcome this by charging more).
One day, a letter came addressed to God, in shaky handwriting . He decided to open it, to see what it was about.
The letter read:
Dear God, I am an 83 year old widow, living on a very small pension. Yesterday someone stole my purse. It had $100.00 in it, which was all the money I had until my next pension check. Next Sunday is Christmas and I had invited two of my friends over for dinner. Without that money, I have nothing to buy food with. I have no family to turn to and you are my only hope. Can you please help me?
Sincerely, Edna
The postal worker was touched. He showed the letter to his co-workers. Each one dug into his or her wallet and came up with a few dollars. By the time he made the rounds, he had collected $96, which they put into an envelope and sent to the woman. The rest of the day, all the workers felt a warm glow thinking of Edna and the dinner she would be able to share with her friends.
Christmas came and went.
A few days later, another letter came from the same old lady, and addressed to God. Everyone gathered round, while the letter was opened.
It read:
Dear God, How can I ever thank you enough for what you did for me? Because of your gift of love, I was able to fix a glorious dinner for my friends. We had a very nice day and I told my friends of your wonderful gift.
By the way, there was $4.00 missing. I think it must have been those thieving bastards at the Post Office
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