In this modern world of today - when we preach peachy speeches about compassion and tolerance; a time of human rights, women’s rights, child rights, civil rights, social and cultural rights, gay and lesbian rights, indigenous people’s rights, animal rights, democracy, orientalism, liberalism, freedom of speech, individuality, free trade, the Euro and Obama - at this modern marvelous world of today’s improved human race, somewhere in the city of Amman in a country called Jordan, which’s King and Queen are advocating for all of the above, lives a Philipino domestic worker named Trakhma. Trakhma gets beaten up by her employer at least once a week, is not allowed to use the phone, nor leave the house, is dispossessed of her passport, does not speak Arabic, has no idea where in Amman she is or how to go anywhere, is never given a day off and had her signature forged by her employer on her contract renewal when she clearly did not want to stay. Trakhma is one of thousands of abused female domestic workers from the Philippines, Sri Lanka, Indonesia and some other cheep-labour countries. Trakhma is a Filipino slave in Amman in the year 2010. She is still captive despite my relentless efforts for her to escape so far.
I got to know about her from Jenny our domestic worker. I feel guilty and wrong about hiring her. We always had help around the house in Iraq. We’re a big family with an even bigger social life. In Iraq domestic maids were not from a particular race, they were just the same as us, just less fortunate financially. Sometimes she was Shia Arab, Sunni Arab, Kurdish, Assyrian and they would come in for a few hours to work then go to other houses, they would clean 3 houses a day on average, it was a job in which they negotiated their fee and came and went as they pleased. But with Jenny it feels different.
When all the help is from a certain race which is not local, because the locals think they are above some jobs which they find demeaning, the labeling and the enslaving begins. I had a UN co-worker who was from the Philippines. He had a diplomatic passport and lived in an upscale part of Amman. The harassment him and his wife got were un-freaking-believable. They were ignored or shoved around at supermarkets or had to carry extra papers at airports to prove they were not runaway workers. The same labeling applies to Egyptian men for example, they are all born as janitors. I have another friend, a very high up regional manger in the UN who is married to a Dutch lady. The common assumption in Arab airports is that his wife is the diplomat and he is the butler.
Jenny was different when she first came to us from her former employer who treated her like most domestic workers are. She was always afraid and very quiet. My mother expected Jenny to help her self to anything in the fridge for example and realized that she was only having stale bread from the breakfast table. Now when I ask her for something and she’s too busy she tells me to buzz off and I like it!
Back to Trakhma, Jenny tells me she showed her bruises on her arms. Her employer, on the way to our house, threatened Trakhma not to show her bruises or say anything to my family. My family and Trakhma’s employer know each other, as much as I hate to admit this. She confided in Jenny and Jenny told me. Trakhma’s employer is woman married to a filthy rich Iraqi man which three self centered and arrogant children. Her oldest is a boy who hits Trakhma every day, throws furniture and glass and sharp object at her, pulls her hair and twists her wrists. Why does he get away with this, I can tell you this one, Trakhma does not need to explain, it’s because he lives in this culture that idealizes anything with a dick. He is the only son to a rich Iraqi family and he gets away with everything. Trakhma is nothing but a maid from an inferior country that produces nothing but maids in a land far far away and where not sure where it is on the map, Philip-something-land.
I called up the Philippine Embassy here in Amman and their first assumption was that my maid escaped. “No! No! No! I am trying to help one escape” “who is this!” I gave my name and job address. “You are from India right?” “no I’m Iraqi” “and your maid did not escape?” “no” “and you are calling to help another woman escape” “correct.” The advice I got was she should escape, the embassy may help her with her flight and legal travel documents. They also told me that she did not have the option of staying in Jordan and working for another employer, which I know is what she wants because she needs the money. The Philippines has stopped its agreement with Jordan which allow its labour force to come to Jordan. If she ends her contract and leave she cannot come back to Jordan.
So I looked for other options and found the Oversea Welfare and Workers Association. They gave me the same options as the embassy but said there is a loophole. I love loopholes! If Trakhma escapes and manages while in hiding to find another employer, the Association can try to talk to her former employer (i.e. snobby woman and her sadistic son) to persuade them to hand in her passport and work contract. That way she can have a work contract “before” she leaves Jordan which means she can come back.
I got exited, told Jenny who in turn told Trakhma. On her attempt to escape her employer found her phone and took it. It had our numbers on it. I want to go to her house and pull her out of there but Trakhma is too scared. I feel I must let her initiate. To me I strongly believe she should leave but she is thinking of the complications of going home with no money and she’s rather take a beating to save a penny to send to her family. She will only escape for another employer and I am deeply frustrated. I can only wait for her to make a move. I hope she does soon and I will be there.
Off to steal some of dad’s liquor,
Your’s Drama Queen
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