Thursdays With Auntie
So my ayi came today for the first time, which was a good thing because this place was a filthy shithole. Of course, like everything involving China, it started out as a complete and total clusterfuck.
When I moved in I was given two sets of keys by the landlord. The representative of the management company who handled the lease recommended that I leave one set with the management office here at the complex. That way, if I lose my keys, they’ll be able to let me in. No problem with that.
The management office is open almost 24 hours a day. When the ayi was over here the other night (Tuesday) we walked down to the office and told the staff in there that the ayi would be coming by today (Thursday) and that they should give her the spare set of keys so she could get a copy made. Notes were placed in my file, everything was cool. They said that when the ayi arrived they would call me on my cell phone, confirm that it was okay to give her the keys, and we’d be good to go.
Today, shortly after 10:00 am, my phone rings. It’s someone from the management office, speaking in broken English, confirming that it is okay to give the keys to the ayi. Yes, I said. Then, about 15 minutes later, the phone rings again. The guy on the other end starts trying to tell me something but I can’t understand him, so I hand the phone to one of my Chinese employees who speaks good English. It seems the ayi went upstairs to my apartment and the key wouldn’t work. I said that was bullshit, that I had personally used both keys when the landlord gave them to me, so I knew for a fact they worked. The office said they would do some investigating and get back to me.
Another fifteen minutes goes by. They call back, and again I hand the phone to my Chinese employee. They said that the security office confirmed that the key did not work. Again, I said that this was bullshit, I knew it worked. I then asked if they were using the key on the big thick silver key ring. Their response: What big silver key ring?
There was the problem. They were giving her the wrong keys.
I explained that during the plumbing disaster which transpired when I first moved in I had given my spare set of keys to the management office. They were on a huge silver key ring. If the keys they were giving the ayi were not on a big key ring then they weren’t giving her the right keys. Again they said they would do some investigating.
Another fifteen minutes. Another ring. Another phone hand-off. They had located the employee to whom I had given my keys, but it was his day off, and he didn’t know where they were. At least, however, they now knew what they were looking for. They told the ayi to go to lunch, that they’d find the keys while she was eating.
Another fifteen minutes. Another ring. Another hand-off. They’ve now located the keys, so everything is all set for when the ayi returns from lunch. Excellent news. Then, an hour or so later, I get an email from my buddy Richard, who recommended this ayi to me. She had called him and told him what happened, and said she was leaving. I wrote back to Richard and told him the story detailed above. Richard tells me he’ll call and see if he can straighten it out. A few minutes later I get another email from Richard. “She’s got the key cut, she’s been to Carrefour’s, and she’s cleaning as we speak.”
So the total pigfuck worked out in the end, and she did a super job. As Richard promised, she left a little notebook (a knock off Disney “Snow White” notepad called “Princess,” actually) detailing the ¥500 I gave her Tuesday night, minus the ¥164 she spent today on cleaning supplies, plus a bunch of notes in Chinese which obviously I will have to have someone translate for me. She also included the receipts for everything, just as promised.
The place looked great. For the first time in a couple of weeks I wasn’t leaving footprints on the dusty floor. All the dishes were washed and in the drying rack next to the sink. The towels were washed and hanging in their proper places neatly. The shower is spotless. The place smells great. All in all, a hell of a first day. I go to work, I come home, and everything is cleaned. Her next trip here will be Monday—she comes Mondays and Thursdays. I’m going to put my dirty clothes in the kitchen right above the washer and see if she does them for me. Also, it appears that she washed one of my sheets. The top one. It doesn’t appear that she washed either the fitted sheet or the pillowcases, which is a little odd. On Monday I’ll strip the bed before I leave, see how she likes them apples.
All in all, though, day one was a complete success, post goatfuck of course. Everything clean, everything where it should be. It feels like home. I get the cleanliness of a woman without having to do anything but throw a few bills at her.
So let’s look at the pay scale. As I said before, she asked for a flat rate of ¥800 per month, which is just over $100. If she comes twice a week that’s 8 times a month, or $12.50 per day. $12.50 is ¥92. Originally the deal was for ¥20 an hour plus expenses. If she does the laundry she could well be in here for 3 hours or more, waiting for the clothes to wash and dry. But, if she does a good job, I don’t mind kicking her a few extra bucks. We could probably talk her down to ¥700 or so.
Now, lest any of you think this poor woman is being exploited by working for $2.70 an hour, let me put it to you this way. Suppose I end up paying her ¥700. She has, to the best of our knowledge, at least four other clients who are paying her in that range. That’s around ¥3,500 to ¥4,000 a month cleaning kitchens and toilets and washing clothes. It’s also roughly twice what the college educated kids who work for me make in a month, and they are perfectly content with what they are being paid, which is a fair wage by Chinese standards.
So, do I feel like I’m “exploiting” this woman for hiring her so cheaply? Fuck no. This is the oldest form of capitalism known to man, the barter system, and she’s managed to parlay her willingness to clean into a rather lucrative career by Chinese standards. So, we’ll give it a month, and if all goes well then my Auntie will be coming twice a week from now on.
Here’s something else that’s funny. One of my Chinese told me that ayi, which as I said means “auntie,” is how a little kid would refer to a cleaning lady. He said that a man with my age and position of authority would more appropriately refer to her as “older sister,” and said she would find that respectful and appreciate it. I don’t remember the words but it was something phonetically pronounced like “die juh.” However, when I said it it sounded like the Chinese word for “robber.” I tried and tried, but half the time I was saying “older sister” and the other half was “robber.” I figured the last thing I needed to do was to start out my relationship with this woman by mistakenly referring to her as someone I thought was going to steal from me so I took the chickenshit route and called her ayi.
So far so good, Money well spent, I think. I’ll give progress reports as we go along.
Oh, and for you puerile, lurid scumbags out there (you now, people like me) who are wondering if she gives happy endings, trust me, liquid Viagra injected directly into your testicles couldn’t get that job done. She’s a little bitty old woman. Monday will be the true test of her Dragon Magic, and we will see if it is indeed more powerful than my Tiger Magic, ha ha!
