a Filipino maid came in from the floor below. This is our exchange:
Me: How are you
Her: Oh, not so good
Me: Oh really? Sorry to hear that
Her: The family, they are so mean to me. I cry every night
Me: Sorry
Her: Chinese families are so hard to work for. White families are much
more kind. The Chinese women are mean
Me: I understand
Her: I miss my family
Me: Where are you from?
Her: The Philippines. I have kids there. Do you have kids?
Me: Yes, I do
Her: Where are they?
Me: They are here
Her: Who takes care of them?
Me: I do. (she is now looking at me with a different look - something
has clicked)
Her: Are you married to a white man?
Me: Yes
Her: Oh good, white man better. Do you need a maid?
Me: No, thanks. We are going back to the US in a couple of months
Her: For good?
Me: Yes. Sorry, there's the post office I have to run over there. Bye
It was a very weird conversation. At first she thought I was the maid
because I was out doing "errands" and then she finally figured out that
I was actually American. Funny thing, I am about 6 inches taller than
the average maid, and don't really look Filipino all that much. I do,
though, dress like them (t-shirt, shorts/jeans, and flip flops).
