Maid Drama

When we sat down for dinner last night, we had no inkling of the drama that would unfold later that night.

We had dinner around 8 pm as usual. The dishes were cooked by our maid, Siti. Siti is 26 years old, petite in size, pleasant in disposition, and has been with us for about a year.

Lately, she has been receiving more telephone calls from Indonesia. We can only guess why. Her family problems, which she has confided in me before, are complex. She now lives for her only daughter, a toddler of around 3 years old. After each telephone call, Siti would be distracted and lived in a world of her own for a while.

Yesterday, Siti's husband left a message for her to call her father, which she promptly did after we finished our dinner. Her conversation with her father was pretty normal at first. Then she started becoming very agitated - shouting into the phone and speaking very rapidly. We did not really understand what she was saying.

Then in a split second, she fell onto the floor, the handphone she was holding flung across the room. We rushed to her side and realised that she had fainted. There was no response when we called her name repeatedly. She was as limp as a rag doll. As we shook her and applied medicated oil on her, she regained consciousness for a while, cried unintelligibly, then relapsed into unconsciousness again. This happened a few times. We decided to call for the ambulance.

Meanwhile, my three sons were feeling alarmed. The two younger boys looked scared and worried. They did not know what had happened and even thought Siti might have died. I hastened to explain to them that Siti probably had some bad news and was in a shock. Do shocks make you faint? Not all the time, only if the shock was too much and some people cannot handle it. Hubby explained it further in a way they could understand. It's like the computer "hanging" when there is an overload.

The ambulance took some time to come. We all waited silently and anxiously for the siren. Honestly, if it were a real medical emergency, this would not be good at all. More than 30 minutes later, two paramedics arrived, one Malay and the other Indian. The Malay chap took control of the situation and laid Siti down with legs propped up. He tried to revive Siti on the spot. He asked for some tap water, wet his bare hands with it and wiped Siti's face a few times. Wa, so easy-ah... just use water only. Siti slowly opened her eyes and seemed to be in a daze. She cried again, this time calling for her Allah while mumbling a string of arabic chants. Then she passed out again.

The paramedics felt it was better to send her to the hospital. Hubby went with the maid while I stayed behind to look after the children. Both the Malay and Indian paramedics were very helpful. We spoke with them in Malay and they spoke with us in English. I notice this type of multi-lingual exchange quite frequently - especially when all parties try to show respect for one another by speaking the other's language. The result may be a stilted conversation, but nobody bothers. In fact, I find this a pretty good sign of inter-racial tolerance at the ground level.

I slept with the two younger boys that night for fear that they would have nightmares, but all turned out well. Siti was not hospitalised and my hubby drove her back from the A&E in the wee hours of the morning. She was not sedated, nor was she given any relaxant (which I expected) but rather, the good doctors at the A&E gave her paracetamol. Just Panadol??? Wa, so easy-ah... should have just treated her at home.

This morning, Siti woke up with swollen eyes but she was back to her almost-normal self. What happened, we all wanted to know. In my mind, I was thinking that a tragedy might have befallen her daughter because I heard her calling her daugher's name in between her fainting spells. I knew that Siti previously had another young daughter who died in the hospital due to high fever. I thought if something similar were to happen again, she might not be able to take it.

But I was relieved when I heard her story. With tears flowing down her cheeks, Siti confided that her hubby had taken on a new mistress. (My mind was saying begitu sahaja? Like that only-ah...) This was the second time he had an affair. I knew that the first mistress had died during childbirth (the mortality rate in Indonesia seemed rather high compared to here). Nevertheless, Siti said her heart was very "sakit" or pained.

Compared to the scenario that I had painted in my mind, this was certainly not too drastic. Not to sound callous or anything like that, but oh my, if all the women in KL were to faint when they found out that their spouse had taken a mistress or had an affair, the A&E here would be very busy indeed.

All I can say is, with all the stories I have heard from the maids that I have had, I can write a book. "The Plight Of The Foreign Maids" - hmm, how does that sound? There would be some expose as well... like how some maids are forced to be intimate with their agents... (it really happened). Aha, more dirty secrets to be revealed when you buy my book!