The Help 2.0

Both our driver and our pembantu started work this week. I don't think I mentioned the driver.  More on him in a minute.

The folks with State recommend and offer background checks on your house staff.  They have a whole list of things they want.  From all this, you can learn a lot. One thing you learn is never store your documents if there is any chance of things flooding. Bu A. lost most of her important documents in flooding over the years.  "All my papers turned to soup."  Mostly she was talking about her birth certificate.  She told me she only went to school through the 7th grade and so her seventh grade report card was all she had, and it turned to soup, too.

"But, Bu A., how did you learn to speak English so well?"

"Ah. I was nanny and I read to kids and they correct me when I got words wrong."  She still likes reading.  From what I gathered she likes “tween” fiction.  She does math well, too.  She told me she is the fifth of six children and that her dad was in the military. Her dad wanted a son to also send to the military.  After the sixth girl was born they stopped trying.  All six girls were sent to work in 8th grade, which is tragic if they are all as intelligent as their sister. The military is often seen as a way to great wealth, but this seems rather short sighted.  

She doesn't fault her father though. She said he was a really good father.  She got married at 19 and had kids. When she left school she thought she'd not need any more school.  Now in her mid-30s, though, she thinks about going back maybe to an adult program to graduate.

She has been very helpful with getting things done around the house and has proven herself a really good cook, at least when it comes to Indonesian dishes.  

It has been pleasant that she gets along with our dog.  This talent is hard to find.  It is engrained here that dogs are disgustingly dirty creatures, so dogs are not tolerated very well.  Often landlords refuse to allow them and househelp refuses to work around them.  Cats, though, are tolerated and seem to run around the city like squirrels, both inside and out.

Anyway, I had told Bu A, not to worry much about the dog, that we would take care of her. But she has fed and watered her everyday and said the other day, "I wanted to take her out for a walk, but I couldn't find her...um...kite." She made the sign for a leash.  Of course, I’ve adopted this lingo.

Pak H, our driver, also has a seventh grade education and, aside from also storing his important documents in flood prone areas, is also a remarkably intelligent and resourceful gentleman.  

He's also very respectful and deferential. Everyone here is, really. I met him at my place so we could go get my car.  We waited and waited outside my house for a taxi because it was rush hour.  "Mr. S.A.M, do you do like this every morning?  Wait like this?”  

"Well, not in the morning, but other times, yes. Usually a taxi comes quickly.”  

It didn’t

He asked this same question twice.  Then after some time I asked "Pak, do you think...."

He cut in without missing a beat, "...we should go to the hotel down the street and catch a cab there? Yes, Mr. SAM, good idea."  And he sprinted off ahead of me.  He didn’t want to tell me I was stupid for waiting like this when there was perfectly good taxi stand around the block.  Z has adopted this manner of telling me I’m stupid as well.  It is cute….. for now.

We found our car in the center of the city. I actually bought it about two months ago, but hadn't seen it.  The A/C had gone and there were 1.5 flat tires not including the half inflated spare.  Pak H and I changed the flat with near-NASCAR speed.  He is quite good at finding repair shops.  Within an two hours of returning he had all the tires fixed and the A/C recharged for a little over $20.  I was amazed.  

By the afternoon the car was washed and fresh wax applied.  

By the next day, the inside of the car was spotless.

When he was done with the car maintenance, I found him sitting in the corner of my garage on a plastic mat on the floor.  Shocked, I offered my basement which is attached to the garage, has a couch and A/C and we have not used it.  There is a fridge there and I told him he could keep some water or drinks there if he wanted.  

“No, no,: he declined, “if I could get mop and mop out garage, I be fine.”  

Sure enough, the following day, my garage is spotlessly mopped.  We even take off our shoes to go in there now.

The Help.

I hired a housekeeper today.

They are pretty common, not only among expatriate staff, but also many Indonesians.  They are called pembantus which means “House help”  Sometimes they even export themselves to work abroad.. Or they are exported.  I saw an article recently about how Indonesian housekeepers are a great source of foreign income , but some are not treated well, and live in indentured servitude in the middle-east and elsewhere.

I was skeptical about the need for one.  I mean we cooked and cleaned back home okay.  Not white glove, but our home wasn’t a hovel.  But everyone here has told us we need one.  Not only to help with cleaning and laundry, but to help with food preparation.  Vegetables aren’t always the cleanest and if you want them fresh they need to be soaked in a light chlorine solution and carefully peeled. They’re also helpful with knowing what foods are in season and how to prepare them. They can help with childcare and in general keeping the house occupied when you’re away and dealing with other workers and repairmen.  They can also run errands which is a great help when a simple task can take 2 hours in a car.

Everyone I’ve spoken to around here gives similar suggestions about what to pay.  All seem to struggle philosophically with the idea, but all suggest 2.5 million rupiahs per month and qualify this by saying that Americans pay the most for their staff.  Not because of any rule, but maybe because of some collective guilt.  

Anyway, if you do the math Rp 2.5m figures to be $217 per month, or, for an 8 hour day, less than a buck and quarter an hour.  I know, I know.  I feel your shame, believe me, I do.  But, if you ask around, this is apparently a living wage.  The mandated minimum wage is actually less than this, which perhaps explains why there are so many workers in the grocery stores and shopping malls. Almost every aisle has it’s own worker to keep things in order and answer questions.

So, I got my pembantu’s name through a classified ad. Her current employer was moving back to Hong Kong.  She had good references and spoke pretty good English. We arranged a time to meet.  

My guilt totally wrecked any ability to negotiate. I offered the suggested 2.5 million. She said she usually gets Rp 3,000,000 per month. Or, $1.50 an hour.   And was I really going to haggle over an extra 25 cents per hour?  No, I wasn’t.

Could she have Rp 400,000 ($40)  a month for transportation. A dollar each way for the bus? Sure.

She asked for Rp 400,000 ($40) per year (yes, per year) for clothing?  Of, course, I want my employees to look nice, so if $40 is what it takes, then consider it covered. .

How about noodles?  Would I cover the cost of a $1 packet of ramen noodles every day for lunch? Yes, I will keep the kitchen stocked with a choice of flavors of noodles.

All that, plus 300 dollars annually for a holiday bonus, 300 dollars a year for out of pocket health care expenses, and $2.50 cents per month for health insurance.  (Yes, you read that correctly, the affordable care act has nothing on this place)  She got everything she requested and I still struggled with it. I even sprang for the coffee we had as Starbucks.

Mrs S.A.M cautioned me not to give in so easily.  “You can’t let them take advantage of you.”  Which I’m aware of, but is the best place to establish the power relationship really over a packet of noodles?  We do have probation period, so we’ll see in two months how we work with each other and to see if I’m getting my money’s worth.

Normally, I really, REALLY enjoy comments and I’m interested in hearing from others about this, but I do publish this with some trepidation.  Please be gentle.

P.S. If you can't enough of this sort of stuff, read more from Mrs. S.A.M herself at AdventuresInWonderland4.blogspot.com.