THE HELP

Dearest Friends,

After more than a year in Sumatra, I still wasn't crazy about having staff, but I had learned to live with it. And, if I had to have a housekeeper, there could have been none better than our Asnah. What a jewel she was! My kids adored her, and I think she was pretty crazy about them, too. Because I didn't want them turning into spoiled brats who expected to be waited upon, the rule at our house had always been that Asnah could dust and mop in their bedrooms, but she was not to pick up after them or make their beds. That was their job. It wasn't until years later that one of them admitted to her picking up their toys all the time, and keeping it their little secret!

Asnah, Mrs., and Fatima

Another special person, who came into our lives that second year, was Fatima -- the baking lady! I still hadn't hired a cook, like most everyone else had, but when I heard about Fatima (that was her name wasn't it?) I just couldn't resist. You see, so much of what we take for granted in our supermarkets here just wasn't available over there, and therefore had to be made from scratch. Not just cakes, cookies, and pastries, but also pizza crusts, tortillas, even dinner rolls. Fatima could make all of these, and more!  I think she had a pretty long waiting list of prospective clients, but she happened to be best buds with our Asnah, who must have told her I was easy to work for (a patsy, in fact) so she squeezed me into her schedule. She came to our house every other Friday, if I remember correctly -- the very best days of the whole month, for not only were the aromas emanating from our kitchen beyond delicious, her presence always meant getting pizza for dinner that evening (a night off from cooking for mom!) and waking up to her sumptuous cinnamon rolls the next morning. Oh my my. Those cinnamon rolls.

One day that fall, Asnah came to me in tears, mumbling something about a terrible accident. A car accident? Had someone been hurt? Killed! "Oh no Mrs., a laundry accident!" As I mentioned before, our washing machine was a piece of crap, and it must not have dispensed all the bleach properly when she did a load of whites, for the color load that went in afterwards came out covered in white splotches. Compared to the horror I had been envisioning, this was not a big deal, but poor Asnah was so distraught, I thought I'd never get her calmed down!

After supper that evening, we were supposed to go up to the school yard to play volleyball with the older kids. John and I both decided it would be rather humorous if our whole family showed up clad in our polka-dotted clothes. We did get some good laughs out of it, but one woman actually said,"If she were my maid, she'd be out on her ass right now." I felt like telling her,"Well, if I were your maid, I'd probably bleach your clothes on purpose!" Jeez, people. Sometimes, you just gotta know when to laugh!