By Rex Catubig

 

WOMEN are usually portrayed as mothers or wives, or girlfriends. When they are in an illicit relationship, they are branded as kabit, the other woman.

But there are other women, who fall under the tag other woman not because of the implied forbidden status but simply that they are in a category of their own.

We call them maid, or katulong, now better known as kasambahay—short for kasama sa bahay–literally, house companion,  euphemism for servant, househelp. However condescendingly they are called, they are an indispensable other part of the Filipino household.

Back in the day, a family was never without one.

My balikbayan vacations were on max relax mode owing to a temporary kasambahay who pampered me: breakfast was ordered the night before, my laundry bag was emptied before it filled up, the kitchen and dining area where I liked to linger was kept spotless, and she made it a point to remind me when we’re short of rice lest I probably starve.

But all that changed, somehow, when I retired and resided here.

Years abroad had reconfigured my lifestyle. I was conditioned to do things on my own—cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, and running errands. I have brought that lifestyle here.

But I have not completely weaned off myself from the househelp syndrome. Living in my own house, I find cleaning quite overwhelming, watering plants quite a chore, and doing laundry, a gargantuan task. In the States, my office clothes were all laundered at work. I just washed my manties and homewear on weekends.

So, instead of having a lavandera, I have my soiled clothes picked up by a laundry service and delivered the same day already folded. And because of my backyard garden, I hired a part-time gardener.

My one-man household is presided over by a cleaning lady who works half a day— just making my room, dusting, mopping the floor, and washing dishes. Cooking is something I like to do on my own—it’s a habit and a choice. I can manage without a cook.

The other woman in my life, my kasambahay, Sisang has proven up to par with my eccentric lifestyle.  She’s the fourth in my search for domestic bliss.

My first one, Connie, was a prize find. She was the epitome of a well-rounded, multi-tasking househelp. She had a clockwork routine, coming in at six thirty when I would still be in dreamland. By the time I was up, she had already watered the plants, swept the yard and was ready to tackle the world. She thought nothing of climbing up a stool to wipe clear the French doors and windows.

But one day, I caught her lying on the bench in the lanai. She said she was dizzy and needed to use the bathroom. She staggered as she came in. But, I noticed her face was lopsided and her mouth drooping as she spoke. She was having a stroke. I called the City Disaster Center which dispatched an ambulance that whisked her off within minutes.

I asked the hospital doctor who attended to her, if I could keep her when she gets well. It is not a good idea, he said,  as the chance of another episode poses too much risk.

She was a tough act to follow. I wasn’t as lucky with the other women I hired after her. Until  Sisang came along.

Sisang is in her third year now. She shares my OCPD to a fault. It gets to a point I would be frustrated because I couldn’t find my stuff that she had rearranged and placed elsewhere.

Beware what you wish for. But she is as good as it gets.

Yet I am heartbroken that this species of selfless servers is on the verge of extinction. Years of serving families have kept them stagnant with no growth in sight. Even their earning remains rock bottom.

In this scenario, the inroads of social media have bred healthy discontent. Thus, unfazed by their meager education, they are drawn to the lure of opportunities in the land of Oz. They have metamorphosed into ubiquitous Overseas Foreign Workers– on their way to self-realization and self-worth.

It’s hard to let them go. But we owe them a wish for good luck.

The other woman is on her way to becoming a woman like no other.

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