Things That Make me go Grrrrrrr

Our new helper Eve starts with us today. She’s a lovely, smiley lady, and we’re expecting great things. We signed the papers for her to become our employee on Friday, but until we have official approval, we were told she had to stay at a “boarding house.” All weekend I’ve been getting texts from Eve about the three nights of misery she’s had to endure, saying the experience is like being in prison.

The “boarding house” is someone’s home, and the girls – there were about nine of them staying there – had to sleep in the laundry, with no pillows, no mattresses and no fans. Additionally, when the lady of the house needed to do the washing, they had to stay in that hot, sweaty room and get even hotter and sweatier. For dinner, they were given sardines, and they were locked in and not allowed to leave.

This is the sort of thing that really makes me go grrrrrrrr, so today when we collect Eve, I can promise you that the agency using this woman to board their girls is certainly going to get a tongue lashing. I mean, is it really that hard to treat people with a little dignity?

I appreciate that things are done very differently in different parts of the world, I really do, and I also understand that I do not fully appreciate all of the aspects involved, but please, give the girls a bloody bed, pillow, fan and something nourishing to eat. They’re paying $10 a night for the privilege, so a little bit of comfort should be a minimum.

Sometimes I wonder why cows getting slaughtered in Indonesia gains more coverage (and outrage) than people being treated like shit. And this case is nothing compared to some of the horrendous situations human beings are enduring all over the world!

Yours, Without the Bollocks


One Response

  1. Grrrrrrrrrrrrr! I am with you on this, Andrea.

    When agents show me the bomb shelters in the apartments here (six foot by three, no windows or plug sockets and a reinforced door) and say, smiling: "If you want a live-in maid you can use this as a maid's room or for storage…"

    My tight-lipped reply (with a forced smile if I'm in a good mood) is: "I wouldn't put a dog in there!"

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