Hao is my cleaner.
I poached her from the Lakeside Apartments, my previous landlord.
Although “Poached” is probably the wrong word because eggs are supposed to be fresh when you poach them. And this egg had gone off long before I decided to cook with it.
So let’s start again.
I reheated Hao from the Lakeside Apartments. She had been fired a few weeks before I left. I knew this because she left me a lovely note (on company letterhead) informing me that she is not allowed to work here after Monday and do I know any foreigners who need a cleaner? Her style was not bitter. Just factual. Narrative.
I don’t know why she was fired. Maybe they found out she was accepting bribes. From me.
Although “bribing” is probably the wrong word when is is the result of extortion.
Nevertheless, it was more likely Hao's laziness what done her in. She didn’t have much to do in my apartment, but still forgot certain things, especially where the dishwasher was concerned (not on, on, not packed, not unpacked and the like). A couple of times she forgot to turn up.
Vietnam is a hard working country. So Vietnam Lazy is not really very lazy at all. If you compare it with Malaysia ("truly lazier”) ... it's like comparing valium with heroin.
But Hao does not live in M'lazier. Here in Hanoi she is considered a wee bit lazy. Sometimes I refer to her as "a no good lazy Hao" by mumbling under my breath like a coward.
When I left the apartment everyone knew. There are no secrets in Vietnam and news travels fast. Even as I returned back from dropping off my written notice to the landlord, a security guard walked up and handed me a torn, dirty piece of paper with “Rental Apartment Villa Foreigners Call Me.” and a phone number.
Even Hao, on forced sabbatical, got wind of my impending move within hours and offered herself to me via an sms. "Just like a Hao", I mumbled as I read it.
I'm a good catch and Hao knew it. I am not messy. Things are mostly put away. There are no kids. Rarely visitors. I eat out a lot. The dishwasher is packed. I travel frequently. I put my rubbish in the bin. When I vomit in the toilet I clean it thoroughly. I am a cleaner's damp cloth dream.
When I cut the deal with Hoa I offered her $80/month for cleaning, or $100 if she did other things like errands and shopping. She took the extra money but as it turned out, not the extra tasks.
Hao “technically” comes 3 times/week for 3 hours. She arrives to a tidy apartment and leaves to a tidy apartment and when I ask her to buy things for me she adds a little premium on top for her efforts.
Not all cleaners are so lucky. R's cleaner is a child labourer and paid $50/month. She comes thrice a week and works twice as hard as Hao. Sometimes she washes the pink shoelaces on his try-hard sneakers.
R’s cleaner is about 12 years old and has to contend with all manner of filth and misadventure … pizza boxes, caked on food, abandoned cereal bowls, whiskers in the basin, shirts and socks and undies strewn throughout the apartment from whence they were removed, skid marks (on undies and/or porcelain), abandoned consumables, rotting where they were partially consumed.
R can create a shanty town just by putting his laptop bag down next to the coffee table. It's quite incredible. (David Blaine incredible.)
I arrived home on Monday evening from Bangkok after about 10 days. This was a very, very cushy gig for Hoa.
On Monday morning I sent Hao an sms note advising that my return was imminent and to buy fruit and flowers that day.
Flowers are very cheap in Vietnam and I ask Hao to get them quite regularly. Her taste is baffling. Following several disastrous flower choices on Hao's part, she is now under strict instructions to stick to lilies.
There are no secrets in Vietnam so she had gotten wind that it was my birthday. This had come via the previous receptionist at Lakeside, Hang Nga. Hang Nga was sacked even before Hao. She was the original mastermind behind the extortion ring and the two had obviously kept in touch. She must have also kept a copy of my passport or something to have remembered the day. She's probably travelling under my name: yet another fancypants in my own image.
I received a gushing Happy Birthday sms from Hang Nga, followed by a gushing sms from Hao alongside a promise to fill the apartment with flowers and fruit.
I arrived home late that evening to find this.
There was a birthday card perched on top and a receipt (for the flower expenses).
My flower bill was higher than usual and the card was empty.
But this was still sweet. Ugly but sweet. Kinda reminded me of Mother Teresa.
By Tuesday evening I couldn't stand looking at that fucking awful crepe frou-frou any more. So I decided to strip Mother Teresa back to basics. I figured I'd start slow. I averted my eyes as I removed her outer robes. Each layer was individually tied on so it took some time. As we got to the undergarments she was practically tossing them onto the ground herself. "Fucking slutty Albanians", I thought to myself.
When I got it all off it was still tightly held together with this padded spongey thing. I wanted the flowers to fill the vase, not huddling together like frightened models on an early morning photo shoot. So I freed them from the sponge. That's when I realised that the sponge was the water thing and the sticks underneath were not connected to the stalks on top. There were little test tube things filled with water, ensuring the flowers stayed nourished.
The minute the sponge came off, the whole fucking thing fell apart.
I went into shock. My heart started racing. Hao was coming tomorrow! What do I do? What would she think? what kind of horrible ungrateful potato would -- I couldn't even think about it! I tried to rearrange the flowers back in the vase as best I could. I was panicking.
I started rushing and scrambling. Back and forth. From the bin to the vase. Sometimes into the bathroom (disoriented in shock) and then back to the vase and the bin. I was the dog whose owner has pretended to throw the ball while secretly hiding it behind his back.
I ran back to the bin to survey the remains of Mother Teresa's robes but the slut must have been in such a hurry that she had torn them off. I finally just left the flowers in their best possible state and slept on it.
That night I had a nightmare about the vase, and Hao's disappointment at what she arrived back to. How to reconcile the excitement she felt at the special surprise, against her next arrival at the apartment.
The next morning I did my best to ressurect and only created more problem. As my departure time neared, there was more panic and dashing and darting. I was Lucy, trying to fix everything before Ricky arrived home and hearing the key in the door.
In the end I shoved the remaining flowers and leaves back into the vase and went to work.
I had to leave for work and had run out of options. Even after I had swept up most of the mess and detritus this is what was left behind.
This was my best effort. I kid you not.
I future I need to assess - up front - whether my mission is rescue or recovery. I chose unwisely, to my great shame.
What will Hao say? How will she react? How can I possibly explain this?
