Talk to the phone!

This article was first published in The Malaysian Insider on 26 August 2010.

 

Those who know me will also know this: I don’t like talking on the phone and sometimes I even forget to bring my mobile phone with me. They will also know that I own a Sony Ericsson W705 but would happily settle for an older W205 model which costs only RM300, if not for the latter’s short battery lifespan.

A truly functional phone to me is one which allows me to make and receive calls, to send and receive text messages and, of course, to help me identify the caller before I answer the call. Other than these, most other applications are just superfluous.

With this trivia in mind, it’s not surprising if I tell you why I think the Blackberry and iPhone are overrated and, sometimes, diabolical inventions. Ultimately, the only time when I would truly appreciate them is when the whole world has gone mute, deaf or both.

If Jose Saramago had had the chance to write a book called “Mutism”, I hope he would make them his main protagonists. However, here’s the scary thing. These fourth-generation phones have not been invented to aid the mute nor the deaf. Ultimately if it is ever possible at all, they will be THE invention that will cause people to go mute and deaf voluntarily.

Trust me. There will come a time when we won’t even hear our own voices anymore, much less that of others.

When I first started my job in Malaysia eight months ago, I didn’t even know how to operate the office photocopier. This was me after spending several years in under-developed countries where Internet connection and mobile networks were privileges. Once, possession of a hand-held radio set (or what most people know as a walkie-talkie) was a security necessity; something to be used for security checks and during times of distress.

For many years, I lived around people who did not carry their mobile phones as if their lives depended on them. Nobody checked their mobile phones every few minutes to see whether there were any incoming messages or emails which could potentially shout out, “EMERGENCY, EMERGENCY, EMERGENCY. HELP ME!”

Nobody felt the compulsion to report to anyone what they were doing lest the whole world thought they might be dead due to the eerie silence of their Facebook or Tweeter status profile.

I used to live in a world where people looked each other in the eyes and listened when others talked. It was an uninterrupted world where we lived for that moment and gave ourselves completely to the presence of the other; whether it was to the person sitting in front of you, or to the sound of silence but for the regular swoosh of fan blades cutting through air, the cooing of pigeons by the window ledge or to the child calling out for your attention.

Now, I live in a world where I’m surrounded by colleagues and friends who just can’t get enough of their Blackberry or iPhone. I was in Alor Star with a group of colleagues recently. We travelled in a convoy of cars. As I stared outside our chartered mini-bus window, another convoy passed by our side. My impulse was to wave at my colleagues on the other side but what I saw shocked me. They all had the same silhouettes; chins tilted downwards with eyes wide open. I felt deflated and defeated.

It finally dawned on me that I no longer belonged to a time or space where people notice each other or their surroundings. The pleasure of having good and meaningful conversations is already threatened by people who care more about posting their thoughts and opinions on cyberspace rather than sharing them with those who are breathing the same air as them.

One of my friends (who, thankfully, has not succumbed to this madness yet) joked to another who’s an avid twitterer, “You’ve been staring at your Blackberry for ages! It better be porn on the screen.”

To be fair, I shouldn’t blame this social handicap on the invention. In essence, most inventions are supposed to serve humanity; to bring us closer to comfort, relief, convenience and increased productivity. These fourth-generation phones are handy for those who travel a lot but would like to put their time into good use. It gives people access to real-time news and can also serve as an instant encyclopaedia.

What’s really troubling me though is when human beings become slaves to the invention rather than the other way round. Instead of allowing the invention to serve our needs, we have abandoned ourselves and others to eventually serve the inventors’ needs to sell their products.

The mobile phones of today are akin to televisions of yesterday. (Mind you, have you noticed how some parents use the iPhone as a quick fix to keep their children entertained and occupied?) When the television was invented, it had singularly changed the social landscape of humanity. As it became more and more affordable, people became less and less interested in each other. I could never understand why my father hated the television with all his guts.

Now, I do.

PS: If you don’t hear from me again, you’ll know that my friends have killed me after reading this piece. That, or someone has bribed me with a brand new Whiteberry.

Technorati Tags: Blackberry,Whiteberry,iPhone,Sony Ericsson,Jose Saramago,mobile phones,televisions,technology,human interaction,social disability,fourth generation,cyberspace,facebook,twitter,Alor Setar

The land of great contradiction

I was at the Malaysian Law Conference recently. It was my first time stepping foot in the Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre and it knocked the breath out of me.

The view from the tall glass windows protecting all four corners of the convention centre was nothing short of magnificent. As I stood there appreciating the sight of the Petronas Twin Towers looming splendidly from above, I felt a sudden rush of pride.

Picture above: Temple of Jupiter, Baalbek, Lebanon

During my travels, I’ve managed to see many places and human-made structures which have blown my mind. If you really must know, the Petronas Twin Towers’ magnificent facade is pale in comparison to structures such as the Angkor Wat, Al-Hambra Palace, Leaning Tower of Pisa, Temple of Baalbek, Taj-Mahal, Mont St. Michel, Stonehenge, and even the remnants of the Buddhas of Bamyan.

Picture above: Borobudur Temple, Yogyakarta, Indonesia

Of course, you can say that this is not a fair comparison and one which is likened to comparing apples with oranges since these structures were all built at different time periods and hence bear far more weight than our very own modern mega-structure.

You are absolutely right, but my point is not about how shabby the Petronas Twin Towers are.  It’s about how I find the more I’m blessed with the good fortune of being able to witness the wonderful work of humankind everywhere in the world, the harder it is to take my breath away.

I am no longer amazed by the mystical beauty of Borobudur Temple just because I’ve seen the Angkor Wat or that I’m less impressed by the Ancient City of Carthage because I’ve seen the Temple of Baalbek and think the latter is far superior.

All right, my shameless boasting above is not the point. The point is, as I stood on the third floor of the convention centre that day, I felt that tingling sensation down my spine and my cheeks grew hot as my heart fluttered at a quicker pace than normal. It has been awhile since I have had that feeling and I was just honoured and thankful to be a part of this civilisation.

The one simple thought that came to my mind was this: We are a civilised nation after all.

Sadly, this feeling of pride and gratitude lasted for only as long as I was still at the convention centre. The moment I stepped out from the spacious, plush carpeted and pristinely clean building, I felt as if I had lived in a dream for the past few hours.

After spending a whole day trying to avoid judges and lawyers while hunting down belligerent student volunteers, I dragged my sore feet and tired body to the LRT station. I was mortified to find that the LRT had broken down that night as I tried to get home from the convention centre as quickly as I could.

There were long queues of hot, sweaty and quick-tempered people straining their necks trying to find out the root cause of the unwelcome event.  The staff on duty did not even think about putting a sign up at the entrance so that people didn’t have to walk that far in only to find out that the LRT was not going anywhere.

Unwilling to wait, I decided to take a taxi and that was when I quickly discovered how undisciplined and anarchic Malaysians are, far removed from the frozen civilised world I had experienced earlier on that same day.

None of the taxi drivers were willing to take me home. The excuse was one I’ve heard far too many times. “Jam-lah.” Spoken in a manner that seemed to indicate as if the meter doesn’t run while being stuck in traffic. I wondered whether it was they who are providing us a service or the other way round.

I spent about 20 minutes waiting in total chaos. There were taxis that stopped right in the middle of a busy intersection to pick up customers, causing traffic to come to a standstill.

Traffic policemen were completely oblivious to the cantankerous honks of angry drivers, involuntarily delayed for dinner with their families or lovers, as they focused their attention on a motorcyclist parked on the curb.

I also heard loud cries of frustration as people cursed and spat on taxi drivers who had shamelessly asked for exorbitant fees rather than abiding by the meter and most of the time used as an excuse to pick up Middle-Eastern customers.

As soon as I thought I wouldn’t make it home before midnight that day, I managed to hop on a bus that took me to the LRT station at Masjid Jamek.

From there, I was delayed again by a good 10 minutes because the three ticket machines were not working and I had to queue along with 20 other passengers at the ticket counter. By the time I made it home at around 10pm, I had cursed a million times under my breath.

If Malaysia were a movie, it wouldn’t be called “Pleasantville”. Instead, “Misery” may be more befitting. I personally see Malaysia as “In Pursuit of Happyness.”

I fancy myself as Chris Gardner going on a chilling roller-coaster ride, never knowing which steep bend would throw me off guard and send me howling and crying out for mercy. My heart is palpitating because I would never know what will go wrong and what challenges will be waiting for me around the corner.

All I know is this: I am just pursuing my happiness in this great land that is filled with contradiction.

This article was first published here at The Malaysian Insider on the same day.

Technorati Tags: Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre,Petronas Twin Towers,The Malaysian Law Conference,LRT,Angkor Wat,Al-Hamra Palace,Leaning Tower of Pisa,Temple of Baalbek,Ancient Carthage,Buddhas of Bamyan,Stonehenge,Le Mont St. Michel,Pleasantville,Misery,In Pursuit of Happyness,Chris Gardner,Masjid Jamek

A cluck and a quack do not make any sense

This article was previously posted on The Malaysian Insider under the title Trying to Bridge the Social and Communication Gap on 28 July. 

Many Hong Kong People had at some point in time considered immigration before the island was returned to the People’s Republic of China on 1 July 1997. Immigration to developed Western countries was a hot topic of conversation then. If you were rich, it would seem that immigration was the only wise and most fashionable decision to take.

I suppose the reason for this was partly due to the fear of being governed by a less developed and even less liberal country such as China. I assume the Chinese in Hong Kong felt that they had a higher standard of living; they were more sophisticated and ultimately, they were modern. The Chinese in mainland China were regarded as country bumpkins; people who considered spittoons in public places as a matter of practicality, rather than a hygiene faux pas.

Picture above on the left: Christian Orthodox paintings from one of the churches in Bahir Dar, Ethiopia

Many Hong Kong movies at that time not only made fun of immigration but also the backwardness of mainland Chinese. Now, it is a matter of the past and as China becomes more developed and already one of the economic superpowers of the world, guess who is having the last laugh now?

While people from the same ethnic race and culture can feel the disparity of social gap as result of economic inequality, it is understandably more so for people of different genetic makeup who live in countries with huge socio-economic gap. Consider someone from Western Europe and another from Sub-Saharan Africa. Culture will not be the only thing which sets them apart. Education, lifestyle, standard of living and social norms will all conspire to further separate them.

I find that as the world becomes smaller due to the impact of globalisation, advancement of information technology and tourism, we no longer fear the unknown and become less and less fascinated with what is known. In many ways, it has helped to reduce the level of xenophobia amongst many of us.

Nevertheless, I realise that there are still certain notions of lifestyles and socio-cultural practices which will remain a puzzle. For instance, in some countries, the practice of corruption is considered normal while in others, completely unacceptable. Individual privacy is better appreciated in more developed country while it is more common here for others to see it as a right to know everything about one’s private life. Taking a pet dog to training school and grooming salon will baffle anyone who treats dog as just another dietary supplement.

I had such an experience while I was in Ethiopia a few years ago. While travelling in Bahir Dar, I met two young Ethiopian students at a local cultural bar. One of them was graduating from a local university and was out celebrating the occasion. They showed my friend and I places to go to in Bahir Dar and we all became friends eventually.

Picture above: Pelicans floating on Lake Tana in Bahir Dar

One night, while we were walking on a dim but busy street, I decided to send a SMS on my phone. While I was keying in the text message, a man appeared abruptly from my side and snatched my phone away. It all happened so quickly that I was left in a momentary catatonic state. The next thing I knew it, my Ethiopian friend had given chase to the thief and together they disappeared into the darkness of the night.

I regained my composure quickly and shouted after my friend to stop the chase. He returned completely crestfallen and was extremely apologetic. I suppose he felt ashamed that this should happen to me in his country.

I told him that I needed to report this to the police since the SIM card belonged to my husband’s organisation and it was procedural to report a theft. We didn’t have to walk far to the police station when we bumped into two uniformed police officers on the same street. My friend started explaining to the officers in Amharic. I tried to talk to them but nobody listened to me. I suppose it was cultural that in the presence of a man, a woman should just keep quiet.

After a few minutes, I sensed there was a problem since the police officers didn’t look too sympathetic. From their expression, they behaved as if we were the culprits. My friend then explained that the police wouldn’t believe him and instead, accused him of conspiring with the thief.

I was baffled and stunned. He told me that since I was a foreigner and he is Ethiopian, they just assumed that he was trying to take advantage of me.

I didn’t know how to react except that it was one of the most ridiculous things I had ever heard in my life. Believe it or not, this incident actually made it to the top of my list of human absurdities.

I insisted on talking to the officers but when my friend told me that he would be placed as a scapegoat, I decided to let it go. The thought that perhaps my friend might have played a role in the incident did come across my mind but it didn’t matter. Even if he was, how could the police deny him the right to be presumed innocent until proven otherwise?

I left the scene feeling extremely upset and sorry for my friend who is forced to live with irrational stereotypes and injustices. When I conveyed the incident to my other friend, I was so infuriated that tears came to my eyes.

When we returned to Addis Ababa, we continued to stay in touch. One day, the same friend offered to show me around a shopping area in Piazza, notoriously known for pick pockets and snatch thieves. Compared to Bole where most expatriate lives, the Piazza is predominantly inhabited by locals but still a popular place amongst tourists for cheap souvenirs and gold jewelleries.

When I finished shopping, he took me to the bus station to get a ride back to Bole. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I told him that I was not allowed to take the mini-bus and could only take taxis. Out of curiosity, he asked me why.

I explained to him that as an expatriate and also a wife of an international organisation delegate, we were prohibited from taking mini-buses due to the bombing incident in front of the Hilton Hotel in Addis Ababa which killed 3 and injured 9 in May 2008.

Picture left: A young child selling souvenirs in Bahir Dar

He told me not to worry as mini-buses are usually safe and it is after all the cheapest mode of public transportation in Addis Ababa. (A taxi usually cost about 50 birr from Piazza to Bole while a minibus cost only about 1.90 birr). In order not to appear too “precious”, I explained that if I insisted on taking a mini-bus and something did happen, whether a bomb or just an accident, I would not be covered by my insurance.

He looked at me as if I was from Mars. He didn’t have to speak for me to understand the incredulity of what must had appeared so petty in a country where millions are suffering from famine every single year. Most Ethiopians don’t even own insurance policies, much less trying to understand the exclusion clauses that come with it. This probably topped his list of absurdities.

Two such examples tell me that these are the things which we cannot hope to change overnight. We cannot begin to understand each other unless we are or have been in the other’s position. Like a chicken and a duck trying to converse with each other, we could go on and go trying to speak and defend our choices or positions and it would still be futile and meaningless.

However, since we all have highly developed capacity to learn, we can look to many other means of helping us to communicate. With the aid of information technology, education and sometimes even a translator, we can learn how to speak the same human language. If this doesn’t work, then we should know that we’re not the only human beings living in this planet.

Finally, let’s not forget that there is also the chicken and the duck.

 

Technorati Tags: Bahir Dar,Ethiopia,Hong Kong,People's Republic of China,social gap,standard of living,development

'Forgotten' tribes left behind by development by M. Jegathesan, AFP

KAMPUNG BERTANG LAMA: Just a few hours from the glittering Malaysian capital is a pitiful scene of hungry children and desperate parents, in an indigenous village home to the "forgotten Malaysians".

Naked youngsters with the tell-tale signs of malnourishment - bulging stomachs and brown tinged hair - sit listlessly in a hut, while others cling to their mothers as they suckle milk.

Welcome to Bertang Lama village, home of some of Malaysia's Semai people, an indigenous tribe mired in poverty and struggling to adapt as the multicultural nation races towards modernity.

The village, which houses about 300 people, is located close to Cheroh, a small town in central Pahang that sits along the Titiwangsa mountains which form the backbone of Peninsula Malaysia.

The Semai, once nomadic but now largely settled, are seeking recognition of their traditional land rights as well as basic needs - piped water, electricity, medicine, education and tarred roads.

Known for their tracking skills

There is little food in the village where families live a subsistence life, hunting and gathering to trade in jungle products like rattan and agarwood.

Neither is there much money, as the forest they depend on is fast being depleted of its resources thanks to deforestation caused by logging, and the rapid expansion of rubber and palm oil plantations.

There are an estimated 45,000 Semai in Peninsular Malaysia, among some 150,000 indigenous people divided among 19 linguistic groups who live on the country's mainland.

Colin Nicholas, coordinator of the Centre for Orang Asli Concerns, said the people of Bertang Lama and others like them have become "the forgotten and invisible Malaysians".

Nicholas said the Semai played a valuable role in the British offensive against communist insurgents in the 1950s due to their stealth and tracking skills, but are now seen as irrelevant.

"Come elections, ruling party politicians make promises in exchange for votes but after that they renege on their words. Because of their small population, they are easily ignored by the government," he told AFP.

"The indigenous people have been pushed to the brink. Their situation will only get worse. After nearly 53 years of independence, the government is in a state of denial."

Invisible people

Not all Semai or Orang Asli people are impoverished, and some communities, particularly those located closer to urban infrastructure, have done much better in terms of education, employment and health.

But the plight of Bertang Lama village was highlighted when Lim Ka Ea, an executive officer with the Malaysian Bar Council visited recently and recounted her shock at the scene there in a newspaper article.

"The Orang Asli have been regarded as invisible by many people," she told AFP.

"What we do see in them is their 'primitive' form of lifestyle and the entrenched stereotype that they serve no purpose to the advancement of our nation except to make our tourism advertisements look exotic and attractive."

In the village, 11-year-old Jolisa returns home from the forest, armed with a machete and a bamboo basket on her back as she skips along with three other barefoot friends.

"We went looking for wild vegetables," she says.

"Yes I would like to go to school if there was one in our village," she replies with a smile to a visitor's question.

'Life is difficult'

Nearby, inside a dilapidated hut, a naked two-year-old child with mucus dripping from his nose and an expressionless face holds a bowl containing only mashed tapioca, a flavorless starch, for his breakfast.

The chidren are mostly illiterate, and mostly hungry as their families can only provide them with vegetables and tapioca sourced from the jungle.

The village is located just 11 kilometers from a main road but it is a tedious drive along an unsealed logging track.

"We sell rattan, bamboo and agarwood sourced from the forest. But it is hard to find them now," says Yoke Ham, a 47-year-old father of 12 children who says his ancestors settled here hundreds of years ago.

"The average income per month is less than RM300," he adds, as crying babies drown out the chirp of insects.

Prime Minister Najib Tun Razak, who is striving for Malaysia to achieve developed-nation status by 2020, earlier this month assured all Malaysians that no one will be left behind.

"I promise you, as prime minister I will be fair to everybody. We will help all communities to move forward. We will make Malaysia a high-income country," he said.

But the lofty goals mean little to Robina, who looks in her thirties but does not know her age. She holds her sick three-year-old daughter, Sinar, on her lap and appeals for help as tears roll down her face.

"My child has a fever. I have no money to buy food and rice for her," she says. "We have not had our breakfast yet. Life is difficult."

Avillion, Port Dickson – An oasis of calm just a stone’s throw away from Kuala Lumpur

Technorati Tags: Avillion,Port Dickson,Beach Resort,Malaysia,AviSpa,Spa,Relaxing,Romantic,Weekend Getaway

Port Dickson is probably not even close to being on the top 10 list of beach destination in Malaysia. But, it would definitely qualify as the fastest gateway to a relaxing weekend for any KL city folks. Well, the good news is, there’s Avillion, Port Dickson, a relatively luxurious beach resort which my husband and I discovered lately. And the bad news? It does come with a price.

Since my husband and I are both very fond of the sea, we decided to splurge on the premium water chalet which has a full frontal view of the ocean. At the price of RM400++ per night, it does come with a magnificent view of the light creamy-coloured sea and breathtaking sunset. One of the best I’ve seen in my life, by the way.

The chalet was spacious and furnished with a king-sized four-poster bed, a TV and an open concept bathroom cum shower to die for. It was heavenly taking a shower while listening to the faint sound of sea water gently slapping against the chalet’s concrete pillars below. If it had rained, it would have been surreal to feel droplets of rain water falling from the sky above and massaging every single pressure point of our scalps and bare skin.

I could have sat all day on the balcony just looking at the ocean or simply lying on the additional twin bed by the window reading a book, but there were so many other things to do at Avillion that staying indoor would have been a waste.

Usually at 10am after breakfast, I hit the pet farm to help Saroja, the friendly pet keeper, feed the other more adorable residents of the resort; hens, roosters, rabbits, guinea pigs and tortoises. I was particularly besotted by the cuddly and cute rabbits, some with floppy ears. I would often stop by the sand pit and observe how they dug into the sand and lie there to keep their bodies cool. The pet farm was very popular not just amongst the children but also adults.

Most of our afternoons were spent at the Cochin Pool, a deep blue-tiled pool which made the water looked like the Mediterranean sea but since it was surrounded by tall coconut trees, you’ll definitely know you’re in the tropics. As only adults are allowed at this pool, it was quiet and calm.  What was even more enticing was the peacocks and peahens roaming freely around the pool areas. We could see that they’re very comfortable with the surrounding as they would often call out what sounded very much like “Lee-on” to each other or simply take a nap around the deck chairs, as if they own the place.

One of Avillion’s strengths is how they manage to cater to both adults and children’s needs. While it is still possible for couples to rekindle lost romance, children will get to have fun doing water-sports, swim at the inviting village pool and play games at the kids’ cabin. Even if you’re not there as a couple, you can occupy your time by hitting the gym, using the sauna and steam and playing tennis. I think Avillion has every potential to make everyone happy and fulfilled.

We ended our trip with possibly one of the most indulging and decadent spa treatments I ever had. We had the 3 1/2 hour water treatment, body scrub and massage package which came with hi-tea on a rotund balcony overlooking the ocean. I almost felt as if I was on a boat.

AviSpa is by far one of most tastefully decorated spas. I could be bias though since the colour-theme is robin egg blue (think Tiffany) and white. By the end of the treatment, I wished I could be rich enough to afford my own spa by the sea!

    

There are certainly many strengths in this resort. If I can choose several things I like best about it, they would be these:

• I really had the feeling that I was surrounded by nature. They really paid a lot of careful attention and details to the garden landscaping;
• The inviting Cochin Pool. This would definitely be the place where I would spend hours and hours dipping in the cool water of the pool while feeling the sun on my head;
• Observing how the sky slowly changed from grey to vermillion red during sunset from the chalet’s balcony;
• AviSpa. Completely and utterly indulging. Plus, it’s such a beautifully-decorated spa.
• The clay urns that are filled with cold water at almost every corner of the resort to allow guests to refresh or clean their tired and sandy feet. This is where small attention and details made a great deal of difference.

Sadly, nothing is ever quite perfect. While my husband and I had enjoyed our short trip and would definitely go back, we thought there are some things which the resort should improve on, especially with the price that we paid. We thought the variety of food offered at the two restaurants was poor and over-prized.

We also thought customer service was rather poor. For a place such as Avillion, one should really expect the resort to provide the best customer service it could ever offer. For example, after we had our spa treatment, we were asked to present our spa vouchers so that they could process the payment. Unfortunately, we had left them in our chalet. Instead of sending a staff to pick up the vouchers from our chalet, we were asked to bring them back ourselves.

While lying on my front with my back being massaged and dozing into sweet slumber, I was rudely awakened by the sound of motor engine in the sea just by the window of the spa. Such disturbance did not match with the spa’s philosophy of providing guests with complete relaxation and tranquillity.

The resort also did not pay any attention to environmentally-friendly practices. There was no instructions posted on the bathroom or the pool to encourage customers to “recycle” towels or to preserve water. I was guilty of disposing more than two towels a day since I spend half of the time drying myself at the pool, bath and shower.

In the end, I think what we truly like and appreciate about Avillion is that we now know where we can have a place to get away from the noisy, crowded and stress-induced city.  A word of caution, do make your bookings early if you intend to spend your time there during the weekend. Otherwise, weekdays are the best as you’ll avoid the huge influx of local and foreign tourists who seem as eager to explore this oasis of calm.

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Maid in heaven

My parents just bid goodbye to their 24 year-old Indonesian maid recently. I suspect it might have been a sombre and gloomy affair at the airport since my parents adored her. They probably treated her as if she was the daughter who was never around.

I, for one, was happy to see how the relationship worked out between them and perhaps even more relieved knowing that they had someone as reliable as Yumi to look after them in my absence (See photo above. Yumi with my parents, nephew and niece).

Yumi was their first domestic help and I have a strong feeling that she has created rather large shoes for the next one to fill. In a way, I think both Yumi and my parents were lucky. The same kind of luck when your blind date turns out unexpectedly to be your loving husband for the rest of your life. You know, the kind of match that is made in heaven.

Fortunately, their relationship doesn’t have to last that long. As much as they adore Yumi, I am sure they hope she will only have to look after her own family one day. Like daughters, maids should be allowed to leave home one day.

Needless to say, not everyone sees their domestic help the same way as my parents did. Or let’s just say, not everyone or every maid is as lucky when it comes to maintaining a friendly and respectful relationship. I’ve seen some dysfunctional relationships and heard of even uglier ones.

I’ve known some friends who never really approve of the idea of having domestic help. For them, most people who hire one are either lazy or they’re simply running away from their domestic responsibilities. I can agree with that to a certain extent.

Having domestic help used to be a status symbol. Only the rich could afford it and one’s wealth could almost be measured by the number of help one had. These days, anyone from the middle working class can afford to hire a maid and it has become so common that even those who don’t really need them will have one.

It would seem as if it’s trendy to have a maid these days. They’re a bit like the iPhone; too many applications which you don’t really need but it’s still good to have it around. If only people treat their maids with as much respect as they treat their iPhones as I bet most people are more willing to lend their maids to others than their RM2k++ phone.

I was guilty of having a maid when I was living in Ethiopia and Cambodia. I was unemployed then but my husband and I would have a local maid come in every weekday to help with the domestic chores. I could have easily done the housework myself but it was so cheap to hire a maid that it made more sense to be lazy. Plus, every expat living there had a maid. Some two. So, it seemed like a normal thing to do.

We were however lucky to have Atzedu, a slim middle-aged Ethiopian woman, who had a quiet dignified demeanour in her. Atzedu had remained loyal to my husband’s organisation for many years and hence, had served many families who were posted to Ethiopia under the same organisation.

My husband was rather terrified of her in the beginning because she appeared to be a stern woman who took her job too seriously. She would often remind him to lock the balcony door before leaving for work in a firm tone. It did hurt our pride to be told off by a maid but we were eventually thankful for her genuine concern for the safety of our house and properties.

Since I was not working, Atzedu became sort of a friend cum mother. Sometimes, she would attempt to bake fresh bread for us and although they were never any good, we appreciated it nevertheless. By the end of our stay in Ethiopia, we were convinced that Atzedu had taken care of and treated our properties as if they were hers. She could have easily been Cinderella incarnate.

In Cambodia, we had a younger Cambodian maid who brought her 6 year old brat to our house every time she came to work. While I appreciated how efficient and thorough Kimny was, I disliked how spoiled little Chantini was. She loved to provoke our cat. In retaliation, our cat would jump on her and she would scream in fear. This went on almost every single time she was in the house and it became an annoying game for me and I am sure for our cat as well.

Kimny did at some stage committed a faux pas which disappointed us but once we tried to deal with the situation as best as we could, I began to learn to understand how easy it was for us to judge another person without fully understanding the other person’s condition or circumstance. I was more willing and ready to forgive once I was humbled by the knowledge that my life has been more blessed than many of those who have had to serve me and yet I would be forever indebted to them.

When we finally had to leave Cambodia, Kimny persistently asked me to bring her over to Malaysia. I would love to because my husband and I miss her every single time we think about the pile of laundry we have to do or the reeking cat litter that needs to be changed. Unfortunately, we only have room for the cat in our small apartment in Kuala Lumpur.

I no longer feel guilty having a maid around, if I can afford to. Whether it’s because of pure laziness or not, I see it as a symbiotic relationship. The maid gets paid for doing an honest job and I get to spend more time doing something I like, instead of cleaning. What’s not to like about this?

The only time when it becomes wrong to have a maid is when the relationship becomes one that is based on abuse, deception, lust and greed. But if both the employer and employee manage to maintain a relationship based on mutual respect and trust, a maid can easily become part of a family; like Yumi.

If anything, we all should learn from one another and accept that we do rely on each other to make our lives better.

This was first posted here at The Malaysian Insider.