Hubster told me excitedly before we had even begun packing, "Housekeepers are very affordable
there, and it's very common for people to have full-time housekeepers. You could even have a nanny!"
His excitement was palpable.
Now, I could understand his enthusiasm for a housekeeper, after all, it wasn't like I would win any Good Housekeeping Awards for, well, my good housekeeping. Lord knows he didn't marry me for my ability to weild a mop.
But the nanny thing was going too far.
"Hold your horses, there, buckaroo," I responded, "I am lazy by nature, so you might want to think twice about starting something that you can't continue to pay for when we return to The States!"
I learned when we went house-hunting just how prevailent housekeepers are, here in Tegucigalpa. Every house (every single one!) had an "empleada" room ("empleada" is the Spanish word for "female employee" and what many people refer to their housekeepers as). These rooms were typically located off of the kitchen or laundry room and were about the size of a walk-in closet, with just enough space for a twin size bed and maybe a small bookcase. These rooms do not have closets, but normally contain their own small bathrooms. I mean really, really small. A stand-up shower with just enough room to turn around, a toilet and a tiny sink basin. And, yes, many people here have live-in empleadas who regularly sleep and live in this space.
Pay-rate, work schedule and living arrangements are different depending on what the household wants and what the empleada wants. Some housekeepers prefer to live-in, they are usually older or younger. Older women have adult children that they live with and an absent or deceased spouse, so they don't mind living in someone else's home. The younger ones don't have a husband or family of their own yet and live with their parents, so they also don't mind living in the boss's home. Many housekeepers are in that in-between, with kids or husband at home, and prefer to live-out so they can be with their own families in the evenings.
And the hours can vary greatly from home to home. Awaking the girls at 5:30 in the morning for school, I frequently see from their window the empleada across the street sweeping the rooftop patio. I assume she is a live-in, but I can't say for sure. Some homes want their housekeeper there to make breakfast in the morning and get the kids ready for school. Others may prefer she be there to cook dinner, bathe the kids and do the dishes. Many prefer to have everything done by their empleada, and these are the homes that hire a live-in.
I was resistent to having any sort of housekeeper. After all, how do you know what sort of person you are inviting into your home? And we're not even THAT dirty, what would a housekeeper DO five days a week?
But as we toured all those homes trying to decide which one to choose, there was one thing you couldn't help but notice.
Tile.
Tiled floors in every room of every house. Tile, tile, tile. Even the most luxurious of homes featured tile from top to bottom.
And I hate mopping.
Like, no, really, I HATE hate it.
Suddenly, I was beginning to warm up to the idea of a housekeeper.
As I met and spoke with more and more Embassy families and found out that they ALL had housekeepers (and nannies as well, for some) in one capacity or another, I gave in and agreed that we would hire one as well.
But only for three days a week.
And then along came Mary.
Two of my new friends, both Embassy wives, raved about Mary. "She's so wonderful! She's so fantastic! I would've hired her myself, but we inherited a housekeeper from the family before us!"
When I first met Mary, I was struck by how young she was. Her petite frame and model-high Indian cheekbones belied her actual age. What I thought was a girl in her 20's was, in reality, a woman in her mid-thirties - the same age as me.
Through a translator, we spoke for a bit, then got down to business. Mary was firm about what she wanted from her next job. Because she still has a child at home, she would live-out. She wanted full-time employment, which for her meant five days a week, eight hours a day. And she wanted insurance.
"But she prefers to hire someone for only three days of the week," the translator explained to her.
Without hesitation, the answer was no. It was either full-time or nothing.
I decided to move forward and see how much full-time would actually cost.
When it turned out to be not-much-more than what I was planning to pay for part-time, that was it.
"You're hired! When can you start? How do I say that in Spanish?"
It's been seven months now since Mary came into our home, and as it turns out, we are THAT dirty! I am thankful she was here during burning season, when particules of dust and ash would pile onto shelves and cover the floors on a daily basis. I am thankful she is here now during rainy season, cleaning up soaked towels from our leaky roof and working with the contractors to repair it. Through our daily conversations she is helping me learn Spanish. And, when I ask, she teaches me how to cook Honduran dishes and explains to me about Honduran life.
Her life.
Which is vastly different than this walled-up world that I live behind.