Maid in Panama?

To maid or not to maid? That was the question. It's just one of the many perplexing dilemmas we never thought too much about before moving to Panama. Neither of us has ever had a maid. And, BP (Before Panama), we didn't know anyone else who's ever had a maid. But here, it's part of the culture. And cultural acclamation is definitely one of the biggest challenge faced by an expat living in a foreign country. Time and time again, we have watched friends and acquaintances arrive in Panama with (a) the mindset that the country should adapt to them or (b) the enthusiastic goal of immediate immersion into local customs and norms. Each, in our view, is fool-hearty.

In Panama, we discovered that, with a high low-income population, a low high-income population (and a very small middle class), a whole lot of poor people are working for a small number of rich people. Not to make it sound too simplistic, but wealthy and upper-middle class folks are pampered and poor people have jobs. That's just the way it is. This way of life is even reflected in and encouraged by the home-building industry. The nicer homes built in Panama come with a maid's living quarters. Ours is no exception. We bought the house after construction began, so we really had no choice in the matter. The maid's designated bedroom and bath are just beyond the kitchen, away from the primary living space. Sounds exotic, right? One can definitely be seduced by the prospect and glamour of a having a full-time maid when the house is already equipped for it and the cost of doing so is extremely affordable. We must admit we did think about it. But, our cautious natures proved to be advantageous for ultimately deciding what works best for us.

In retrospect, the first thing that held us back from going the full-time maid route was the fact that we couldn't see how anyone could live in that tiny bedroom! And, while the rest of the house is plumbed for hot water, the maid's quarters is not. There was no way we could ask someone to live in such a tiny space with no hot water while we had luxurious living quarters and warm showers. That, and we know ourselves too well. If someone came to live with us, we would end up making that person part of the family. And we already have a big family. So, we waited. And we observed. And we learned.

In Panama, employing domestic help is more complicated than just giving someone a paycheck for hours worked. Registration at the local Social Security office is required. Benefits, vacations, maternity leave, etc. are legal rights of the workers. Dismissals are accompanied by severance pay. For those readers who do not know about our backgrounds, Dan and I are very pro-worker oriented. I'm just saying, "google" Dan Terry and firefighters and all you see is Union! However, while we personally applaud the country for it's protection of worker's rights, we have seen too many people forge headlong into this system without understanding their obligations as employers. And, then, we saw training issues, language issues, cultural issues ... all kinds of issues, in fact, that made us too leery to jump on that bandwagon. At the end of the day, in our observation, it's an "eyes wide open" thing. When live-in maid arrangements have worked out well for the expats we know, it's because they have taken the time to learn the rules here first. And the Panamanians who have maids? We have more than a few Panamanian friends who say their maids and nannies have gradually become part of the family. (See, that's what we were trying to avoid!) And those relationships become more complicated than just those of employer/employee. We love the story that our friend, Fredo, tells. When his long-time maid used steel wool to clean the new and very expensive stainless steel hood over the kitchen stove, leaving the obvious deep scratches, he did the only thing he could do. He just bought another hood.

Having said all that, our idea of enjoying life at the playa did not include cleaning six bathrooms and mopping 3,500 square feet of tile floor every week. We tried it twice. And, since we have lots of company (yes, "build it and they will come" is a truism for us), changing all those beds after every visitor did not exactly fit into our exercise plan. So, the hybrid of employing domestic help that works for us is to use a weekly maid service, provided by our community development for a very reasonable fee. Mind you, we never know who's going to show up and sometimes we don't know when, but the house stays clean and our only responsibility is to tip them well and remember them on holidays. Like I said, it works for us. And Dan and I have become quite fond of the eclectic assortment of maids who help with our household chores. They are all ages, all sizes, and there are a few weird inconsistencies in the chores they prefer to do, but we love them all! Besides being very efficient in their own unique ways, they teach us Espanol, they talk about their families, and they sometimes bring us flowers and mangoes from their yards. And we even gossip together about some of the other neighbors! I really knew we had a special thing going on when, recently, one of the maids appeared at the front door in an apparent state of dismay. It was not our cleaning day and she was with a group of other maids who were waiting for her in the driveway. "Senora Lynda, Senora Lynda," she wailed, as I opened the door. "Enfermo, Enfermo! Ayudarme!" She walked quickly past me, motioning for me to follow her to the kitchen. She then grabbed her stomach and pointed to an upper kitchen cabinet. "Pepto Bismol, Pepto Bismol .... necessito Pepto Bismol!" Well, of course she would know where my medicine stash is; she does clean the house every week! I reached up, pulled down the big bottle of magical pink stuff, and poured her the recommended dose. She drank it down, gave me a big smile, and was out the door in a flash to join her friends.

Time will tell if Dan and I give in to the temptation to bring a full-time maid into our world here in Panama. Certainly, as we age, that temptation may give way to necessity, as it has with some of our older counterparts in the neighborhood. But for now, we kind of enjoy the variety of maids who grace our home each week and we're just not ready to become employers. As a side note, the experience with our maids has further reinforced one of the things I have come to enjoy about our life here, which is the simple pleasure of enjoying the people with whom we connect on a day to day basis. Maybe there is something to be said for "smelling the roses," after all. I may not have roses in my house, but the maids see to that I have lots of flowers!