Try a little kindness

My wife and I raised our two children over the last 26 years without any help from our in-laws and least of all any domestic help. I can't say that they are the best behaved children but by any standards they are good examples of children who have grown into their adulthood quite nicely. In fact, my wife should take the credit for raising them up, when they were still young, single-handedly. She quit here job at a multi national firm and looked after her two charges for 7 years. and when they went into primary education she took up a job at a Kindie still having half the day free to cook for the family. Today she still works for a private school teaching pre-school children.

What's my point? Maids, that's what. And how some are treated in this country. I have always made it a point to observe how these migrant workers are treated by their employers. Sad to say the majority of them are treated worse than refugees. A good indication of how a maid is treated is to see how they are made use off when they are at restaurants with their employers. Most of the time they have to look after the toddlers, ensuring that they are fed while their parents go on an eating frenzy. Nobody even bats an eyelid to see if the maid's plate is full leave alone put some food on her plate. They fear to reach out and take food from the ordered dishes because of the looks they might receive from around the table. So most the time, eating out means not eating at all. I wonder how they keep on going without proper nourishment. You can only guess what they get at home. Besides that, to keep a long story short, most of the kids are raised by the maids who transfer their own values to the young ones.

But the other day, I had a plesant surprise when my wife and I were having dinner at the Esquire Kitchen in Subang Parade. A large family, grandparents, their children their spouses and of course, toddlers. Lo and behold, while the maid tended to the small kids, the young gentleman ( and I say gentleman) made sure that her plate was always full. More than that the grandpa urged her to eat and not to be shy. What a happy maid she looked, nicely clothed, neat hair and so well groomed. And when the children mother's had finished their meal they digilently took took over the kids and allowed the maid to finish her meal in comfort.

It really coddled my heart to see that scene that day and made me feel somewhat that there was still some good people around

My Cup runneth over

My world cup has ended even before the end. And it looks like it has happened to almost half of world, that's a consolation at the least for me. I can't say how much I looked forward to this World Cup. With my favourite team Brazil boasting of incredible talent. But all the hype about this going to be the Cup to watch has come to naught. It has been the teams with little known players that are in the final four. Who ever heard of Philip Lam the little classy left back of the German team or Maxi Rodriguez of Argentina who blasted a last moment kick to send the Mexicans home or Camoranesi the Italian with his pony tail who runs tirelessly and controls the mid field or Fabio Grasso who sent back the Aussies or Ribery of France who is a revelation. These chaps upstaged the more famous names like Ronaldinho, Nistleroy, Adriano, Kaka, Sevchenko, Cafu, Ballack, all who did not really live up to expectations. But I am really pissed off with the Brazilians who thought they could turn the game over with a moment of magic. It never came. They were all too busy trying to get their name in the goal scoring sheet. Old warhorses like Cafu who had Ronaldinho totally unmarked still tried to go for goal even though there was absolutely no chance. Or Roberto Carlos who is said to have been looking at his boots when Thiery scored. And Ronaldinho, for all his hype, was the biggest flop of the 2006 world cup. I am glad they burnt his effigy in Brazil. He had better not go back home for a while or they might just bump him off. Frank Lampard, John Terry, Steven Gerrard, Wayne Royney, all were miserable disappointments, totally impotent. Fellows could hardly get a kick right.
But the consolation was to see new chaps like Lam weave his magic down the left flank, Camoranesi, an Argentinian by birth, by the way he controlled the midfield with astute passes or Rodriguez who was a fearless warrior in all the games he played. Ah, and the beautiful and elegant Zidane who singlehandedly tore the Brazilians apart. What a display of artistic, classy football, and at his age too.
Anyway, I am still watching the games only because my daughter is a die hard soccer fan, something I inadvertently taught her when she must have been about ten. I still recall the 1994 World Cup when I thought it was time my son, about eight then, should see this major sporting spectacle, once in four years. So I prepared him by getting him the World Cup Soccer magazines and briefing him on all the teams and players. My daughter, I thought, was meant for more ladylike things like her Barbies'.
The first night of the Cup and I had prepared sausages and other snacks for the opening game. Time 2.30 am.
Get ready, I said, and come down quickly, its going to start. I heard little footsteps coming down the stairs.
Come Danny, I said, Daddy has prepared some nice yummies for the game.
Thank You Dad, she replied as she took her place next to me. I looked around for Daniel, my son.
He is fast asleep, Dad, don't bother, she said. And that was how she got started.