It is not a completely unknown fact that servants, drivers, maids, nannies and other so-called “helpers” are easily available in Hong Kong. In addition, this help is extremely cheap. The Hong Kong government requires that you pay a monthly salary of around $3500 Honk Kong dollars to a live-in maid, or “amah.” For those of you unwilling or unable to do the math, that works out to roughly $500 US per month. Room and board is, of course, expected.
Most of the “help” comes from the surrounding, and impoverished, nations. They are Filipino or Indonesian, predominantly. Occasionally you find other nationalities doing this type of work, but it is rare.
Most of the girls come to Hong Kong for the sole purpose of saving money to send home to their families. They don’t usually have husbands or children themselves and if they are extremely lucky, then someone will marry them while they are here. On any given weekend night, you can see young, attractive Asian women on dates with older, decidedly unattractive, western men (usually in their late 40s to early 60s and either fat or balding). In their own respective countries, these men would be hard-pressed to find such accommodating women. Here, they are practically rock stars.
A young man in my Mandarin courses from Boston tells me that it’s terrifically easy to pick up a date. To the point that it’s actually verging on being hassled. And I have seen the eyes of hungry women devouring my own husband. Alas, we don’t wear wedding rings, which leaves his marital status open to interpretation.
What I really want to commentate on is the fact that most tai-tais (or wives) treat these women like disposable garbage bags. They are there to clean up and that’s it. Women here are constantly complaining about their “help.” Some of them, as gleaned from several reports in the papers here, even go so far as to burn them with irons, underpay them, and slap them around. Talking with some of the girls who provide this “help,” it becomes clear that they are frightened of falling into the wrong hands. For most, this means a traditional Chinese family. Specifically, mainlanders.
Mainland Chinese women have a notorious reputation here among Filipinos and Indonesians. They are not to be trusted with their help. They have mad tempers and throw hissie fits on gargantuan scales. Now, this many just be rumor, but let me tell you a little – and painfully true – story.
Across the hall lives a Chinese family. They have a live-in amah and two horrible little dogs (forever yapping and peeing in the hallways). When we first moved in, I always heard the tinkling of a bell, like on a dog collar, which is how I knew when the amah was taking the dogs out for a walk. (Sidebar – I have NEVER seen the owners take the dogs out.) One day, while riding in the elevator with her, I noticed that I still heard the tinkling of a bell. No dogs. I looked down at her wrist and she was wearing a DOG BELL. When I asked, she told me that it was so her employers wouldn’t be surprised by her sudden appearance. I was shocked, and horrified, and slightly amused, by the story.
Now, I’m sure that some people actually treat these women well. I know that the people I know do. However, it makes me wonder just how far from indentured servants these girls really are. I mean, the size of their rooms is so small you can barely sit down in them. And our maid’s room, I am informed, is BIG by comparison.
Trying to supplement her income, one of the more outspoken maids was just jailed for selling a $10 HK lunchbox in the park. To the government’s credit, it didn’t prosecute her, just arrested her. And the rigmarole that these girls have to go through just to obtain a visa to permit them to sometimes become abused, is amazing. If there was an easy way to get into the country illegally, I’m sure that Hong Kong would have a happy Filipino base. Just like all of the Spanish maids in NYC that are making a bundle charging $60 US an hour and getting paid in cash-ola. Viva la resistance!
Long live capitalism and an unequal system. Lord knows I can’t iron my own clothes. If I had to make a living like that, I’d have starved by now. As an amah, I’d suck.
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