It’s nice being in Jakarta at the end of the fasting month and during the Eid holiday period. The streets are relatively empty and quiet and you can get from one place to another in a matter of minutes rather than the hours wasted getting stuck in the traffic. There is the pleasant tranquility of a small friendly town as opposed to the hectic hustle and bustle of a sprawling metropolis, while the air has a freshness that is only palpable when it is devoid of carbon monoxide. For one week out of a year, the Big Durian is soft and tender and a lot less smelly and prickly.
This is also the time when the more privileged Jakarta denizens who do not join the mass exodus out of the capital to various hometowns across the country are left behind to relish the joy or suffer the pain (or both) of being bereft of their retinue of maids, nannies, cooks, houseboys, drivers, gardeners, security guards and other human helpers that allow them to lead a life free from the daily chores of cleaning, cooking, washing and taking care of baby.
You can easily spot them, those families who are left abandoned by their household supports to fend for themselves until the end of the holiday. They wander around the malls, lining up at restaurants, in clothes that are so casual they could be at home in front of the TV, with stressed and bewildered looks on their faces as they attempt to keep their children under control, work out how to carry the babies or how to maneuver and fold the toddler’s push chair because Nanny is no longer around to lug chubby Junior around in her skinny arms and keep him fed, pampered and amused without ever getting tired or lose her temper.
You can see them checking into hotels where the room service, housekeeping, big breakfasts and swimming pool ensure that nobody will starve, the clothes laundered and the children constantly amused and experience as little bother and disruption to their lives as possible. Because for these Jakartan upper middle class, it’s probably easier to manage a company and lead a board meeting than having to look after their house and take care of the children themselves.
Even for those without the big house, the double garage and the spoiled, overfed children to attend to, such as yours truly, being home alone and abandoned by my one and only housemaid, can be quite a challenge. Of course it would never do to depend on other people to clean up one’s mess and to prepare one’s breakfast, while there is actually nothing more congenial than having the house to oneself to do as one please, but I have to admit that any longer than a week and more frequent than once a year is more than I could tolerate.
I wonder how I managed when I used to live in Europe, but then thinking about it, my living space then barely had enough room to swing a cat while my standard of cleanliness in those days was probably a lot lower. But it did seem a lot easier in those days to cook up something on the stove, make a cup of tea, read a novel and get an essay done all at the same time with nobody around to help, and still be able to do the dishes after without as much breaking a sweat or lose my train of intellectual thought.
But there it is, with Sumi and the houseboy conspicuous in their absence, I’m left to my own devices. Having exhausted the mall, got tired of eating out in restaurants, ran out of 3D films to watch in the cinema, had enough of weekend getaways and hanging out with families and friends as I could socially bear, I can no longer escape the pull of home.
Before I could make myself a cup of tea, first I have to unlock the mysteries of the kitchen as in some computer game. Find which of the many drawers is the one where Sumi keeps the key to the cupboard where she keeps the teas, coffees and stuff. And then look for the electric kettle. (I decide against using the stove to boil the water as I’m afraid it might blow up). The cup is easy enough to find but the teaspoon is a bit of a challenge. Oh, there they are. She keeps the cutlery in a plastic container, no doubt so they are invisible to the human eye. Why she doesn’t put them in the cutlery drawer is beyond me.
Relaxing with a cup of tea proves to be a short affair as I soon realise that everything I use I need to wash up after. The abandoned homemaker knows that. That’s why she keeps her activities to a minimal, often foregoing showering and changing her clothes until she really needs to go out. But at some point, she succumbs to the demand for cleaning and tidying up as the house grows messy and dustier with every passing Sumi-less day.
So, still in my pajamas I pick up a broom and start to sweep the floors. Then the mop to wash the floors with. Then the cloth to wipe the surfaces. There is the bed to make, the sofa to dust and the bathroom to clean. The dirty clothes will have to wait until the maid comes back, but already I pride myself on my cleaning ability. I don’t need Sumi to clean the house. I can do it myself and better too. It’s a piece of cake.
Four and a half hours later I am bathed in sweat. The house is spotless, at least for the day. Never mind the couple of broken finger nails from squeezing water off the floor mop. Sumi better come back soon. I’ve done my year’s worth of house cleaning.
(Desi Anwar: First Published in The Jakarta Globe)
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