THE MRS. AND TUH-NAY

The Mrs. and Teeny get ready for a party.

Dearest Friends,

That bliss was to be short-lived.  A few days later, there was a knock at our back door.  I opened it to find an Indonesian woman standing there, shopping bags in hand.  "Hello Mrs.  My name Teeny (Tuh-nay).  Your friend say you need maid.  I work for you."  "Well, um...I, uh...O.K.  I guess."  So she moved right in to the little room off our back porch, and that brief interchange was fairly indicative of our relationship from that point on.  I later questioned everyone I knew, but none of them had sent her.

One of the main reasons I had been dragging my feet about hiring anyone, was that deep down, I knew I was very ill-prepared for the task of supervising staff.  I was too young, and had never supervised anyone but my kid brother (I had two older sisters who had always been "the boss of me"), especially not someone who was 10 or 15 years my senior!  My parents had pounded it into me that you were to respect your elders, and always do as you were told.  Plus, I couldn't really remember seeing my mom interacting with staff, as she had quit hiring maids as soon as we girls were old enough to do chores.  Also, it really went against the grain with me, to let someone else do what I could just as easily do myself, since I was there at home and hadn't much to occupy my time.  I had never enjoyed having people wait on me, being more of an "I can do it myself!" kind of kid.  Most importantly, I cherished my privacy, and when you have a live-in maid, there is no such thing as privacy.

Soooo, what was, to most women, one of the best perks of life overseas, ended up being the bane of my existence.  Once, when the card group was meeting at my house, one of the older Brits said "You need to get that maid of yours to clean those light fixtures up there.  They are covered in dust!"  When I told her "I'm afraid that's not how it works around here.  Usually, she tells me what to do.", they all burst out laughing, certain I must be teasing.  I wasn't.  By that point, she even had me sewing for her.

The only thing I was firm about was the cooking.  Since I couldn't work or contribute anything financially, my self-worth was becoming more and more wrapped up in my ability to cook and care for John, so that's where I drew the line.  That was my territory, and the only time I came very close to losing my cool with her, was when I had baked John a special batch of cookies, and she polished them off before he even got home.  Did I meet John at the door, ranting and raving?  No, I scurried to bake another batch.  I didn't want him to think I was a little tiddy-baby, who couldn't even handle someone as sweet and accomodating as Teeny (which she was, whenever he was around).  There were certain times, though, when that worked to my advantage -- such as when we had parties.  Since John was around for those, she really knocked herself out.  There's nothing better than throwing a big bash, falling into bed with the house a total wreck, then waking up to find that everything was magically back in place and squeaky clean.  I really, really miss that.