Elma vs. Amala

No, this is not meant to be a metaphor for the differences between life in the US and life in France.

In fact, cleaning ladies seem to be similar the world over, both the good and the bad.

They all want to be paid in cash.
They seem to always be from a different country than the one they live and work in.
They seem to work miracles in a short amount of time.
They are brown and round.
They now all have cell phones.

The bad ones don’t stay for long. The ones that make a fatal mistake (ie bleach on the rug), the ones that are late, make excuses, don’t show up when they’re supposed to. The good ones sometimes become demanding or get an attitude (I was fired by Mirabelle because I asked her to dust more thoroughly). Yes, I have been fired by my cleaning lady.

Elma is from Guatemala. Amala is from Sri Lanka. They both can speak English, kinda. They are both whizzes at cleaning things that I hate to clean.

There are different cleaning challenges in each country. In Manhattan Beach, we have a lot of windows that need to be cleaned so we can see out. Every time there is a little rain or wind, the windows get covered with a slight bit of sand that’s blown up from the beach and it is impossible to see anything. So, there is Elma, all five feet of her (on a good day) standing on a ladder with her Windex bottle and roll of paper towels.

Amala has the chore of getting the water spots off the glass shower door. The water is very rich in minerals in Paris, so the doors look horrible after just a few days. It requires white vinegar to get this perfectly clean. But she does it.

Rituals are also necessary for both Elma and Amala. Amala starts the minute she walks in the door. For some reason, the dining room is the altar. She takes off her shoes, her coat, hat, scarf, etc and then bows and prays silently in the dining room. Then she’s off to work. Her husband told us she’s Catholic, but the red dot on her forehead and all the dining room prayers make me think otherwise.

Elma brings her huge bag of McDonalds and a large McDonald’s coffee into the house each morning. We never see her eat it, but we know she does. Once inside the house, she sets to work and never stops. When she’s ready to leave or whenever she has to speak to us, she puts her hands together (as in prayer) about waist high, and bows as she says goodbye, tells me to buy more Ajax or thanks me for the Christmas bonus.

Both Elma and Amala are wonderful. We’ve known Elma longer, so we feel more comfortable with her. But we are grateful for both of them. Oh, I almost forgot, Aidan, our grandson LOVES Elma, he follows her from room to room watching her work as she coos softly in to him in Spanish.