Underneath Her Wimple

Maria returned to work on Tuesday but I didn't see her.

On Wednesday I ran into her outside the lifts on Level 18. Before I could open my mouth, she slugged me with a couple of verbal warnings:

"So Mr Anthony you didn't tell me if you wanted to cancel your flight to Malaysia tomorrow."

--"Yes I did. I told you that alr―"

"So please confirm by 5pm today please because the travel people need to know and then confirm the tickets."

-- "Yes Maria I already told you to―"

"Thanks Mr Anthony because it's important right?"

-- "Well it's important but it doesn't make any s―"

"So OK then Mr Anthony you understand now? 5pm right?"

-- "Yes Maria."

To an untrained observer this conversation sounds like simple filler. However, Maria operates on multiple levels and this is her poly filler. I would summarise her technique as follows:

1. Re-establish relationship with the Target via a prior, shared event. Any event will do.
2. Confuse the Target by construing this event into a new and complicated issue.
3. Create mild alarm by insinuating that Target's plans may now fall apart due to various oversights related to this issue.
4. Create guilt by implying that the Target is completely responsible for causing all of these problems.
5. Build trust by forgiving the Target
6. Build dependency by appearing to be the only person who is acting solely in the Target's best interests.
7. Create shared goals with the Target, by suggesting actions which require cooperation between bot hof you to resolve this problem.
8. Create dependency - you are the Target's only link to the outside world and to the resolution of this "problem".
9. Create time pressures so that Target has a sense of urgency to act on this issue, above all others.
10. Use continued talking and asking questions to distract the Target, so that he doesn't have time to think.
11. Waste enough time on this new issue, such that previous issues (eg "diarrhoea") become redundant.
12. By following the above, the Target is kept in a constant state of intimidation.

Being familiar Maria's techniques, I stayed calm. Most of this didn't work on me ... except for the part at the end where I didn't feel it was relevant to ask after her health. So come to think of it, all of this worked on me.

I changed the subject. She had straightened her hair and it suited her.

"Hey Maria you've changed your hair!"

-- "Yes well I was too sick of being ..." [She stopped and waved her hands around her head, like it was a crystal ball.]

"Being what? What do you mean?"

-- "I don't know. Messy. Like a lion." [As she said 'lion', she waved her hands briefly around her ears]

"Oh. So you bought a straightener then?"

-- "No. No straightener. I got it all done properly. It was a nightmare. I was 6 hours in the salon."

"Wow! 6 hours. That's crazy. Did you get a break?"

-- "No. 6 hours in that chair." [She rolled her eyes as she shook her head, reliving the pain and frustration.]

"Well it was worth it. It suits you."

She smiled insincerely, turned on her heel and marched to her desk.

I was left feeling weakened and confused. How would someone suffering diarrhoea sit in a hairdresser's chair for 6 hours, getting her hair straightened? And why am I too frightened to say anything?

A Word In Her Behalf

This morning I received the following sms from Maria:

Please be informed, today i'm not coming to the office because of diarrhea.

Diarrhea is difficult to spell and I expect that Maria's sms involved an American dictionary ... because when it comes to a day off ... and you've gotta hand it to her ... Maria leaves no stone unturned.

Indonesians are pretty specific when they call in sick. Sometimes diarrhoea is even dropped into casual conversation, such as elevator small talk.

"Hi Novi - how are you today?"

Novi: "OK. A little bit of diarrhoea."

It stumps me every time. Not only is this awkward, but it reminds me I most think in images. I eventually say"oh ... that's bad luck" and stare at my feet.

When Maria has not finished a task and I'm looking for her, she also uses the toilet. Sometimes literally but mostly as an excuse. She must know it stumps me. Sometimes she replies to my 4th sms with a simple "in toilet". Other times, she answers her phone with a whispered "i am in toilet". If I hear the echo of ceramic tiles I'm convinced that she's telling the truth. If I detect the background noise of Sudirman street then she's having a smoke downstairs.

It's also common for people to drop the toilet into a meeting. At least once a fortnight I'll be in a meeting room and ask where someone is. "He's in toilet - back soon." There is no hint of irony from the speaker and no hint of anything on anyone else's faces. But it sounds wrong to me. If I was at a restaurant or a bar I wouldn't think twice. But the office environment makes it sound coarse to my ears, which then makes me feel like a prude; or an American. If there's a difference.

In Hanoi I used to hear "I got my period I am going home." which wasn't so much a request as a statement. Maybe that's why it's called a period. Menstruation is probably the diarrhoea of Vietnam and saying so probably makes me a misogynist. And maybe also a bad person.

But here in Jakarta, diarrhoea is as common as a traffic jam and quite unpleasant when it comes on during one. That's alot of diarrhoea. And a lot of work incapacitation. So why no euphemisms?

The Thais say "I have a spoilt stomach" while smiling insincerely. In England its an "upset stomach" and in Australia it's "dodgy guts". Even Eskimos (known for their laziness) have 80 different words to describe snow. So why must the Indonesians head straight to the anus and be done with it?

Back to Maria. I do believe she experienced diarrhoea at some point over the weekend. I don't believe she is still unable to come to work today.

I know she's not bedridden; or even dunnyridden. She's at home in a faded yellow dressing gown. Her feet are up on the coffee table and there is an ashtray balanced on her lap. She's watching an Indonesian soap opera while taking lengthy, relaxed drags on one of those thin cigarettes which are strangely fashionable with Indonesian men.

I should be relieved that she only wants the 1 day off. In Indonesia when people need more than 1 day off, events take a far more dramatic - and often deadly - turn for the worst.

2 or more days are usually associated with mothers suffering heart attacks, a sudden bout of typhoid or toddlers being checked in to hospital at 3am with grave, incurable, mystery illnesses.

At first I took these stories at face value. I believed them. What kind of fair minded misogynist would I be if I didn't? It took a string of miracle recoveries - none of them involving catholics - for me to realise it was mostly lies.

I now know that heart attacks are indigestion, typhoid is a runny nose and anything to do with children is complete bullshit.

These types of ailments are really just a holiday slush fund. The bearer is able to draw on it whenever he wishes.

"Visiting his mother in hospital" they whisper, solemnly, when you ask if anyone knows why he hasn't completed his document.

"Oh," I say and pretend to be concerned, while really thinking is "If it's not finished by Friday, he'd better be able to produce a fucking corpse."

Or perhaps it's something like this:

"Hey Agoes I heard you had typhoid last week?"

-- [smiles] "It was nearly."

"Oh really? That's lucky. You seem ok now. What was it?"

-- [avoids eye contact and smiles weakly] "Not sure. But maybe not typhoid."

And scene.