One of the big adjustments of living in Mexico, is having staff.
I was not raised with staff. My mother made her own clothes and we switched from ice cream bars to ice cream in a carton because it was cheaper. We went from a Chevy Impala to a Chevy Vega because gas prices rose to nearly $0.50 per gallon (now my age is showing). My toys were old sets of keys and broken telephones. Was I happy? Yes, I was. We were country folk and I didn’t know any better and didn’t envy anyone.
Now I’m country folk again. However, I have a full-time maid and a part-time gardener.
I had difficulty, at first, having someone around the house all the time. I didn’t really want a full-time maid, part-time seemed good enough to me; even a luxury. However, with six dogs and two cats, it began to seem necessary. Plus, Maria was my father’s primary care-giver and she was turning down other full-time job offers because she wanted to work for us. (Whether this is true or a slight manipulation I’ll never know.)
We’re blessed. Maria is a person who always has a smile on her face. Her demeanor is constantly positive. She believes that life is too short to be unhappy. She is the same age as me and has a 30 year-old son, her father has dementia. She has over 150 relatives who live in and around San Miguel de Allende. If I need something fixed, or hauled away or repaired, she can usually call a family member and it is done. She and her 11 year-old son, housesit for us when we travel.
Maria arrives at 8:00 AM and peels me a fresh grapefruit which she leaves in the kitchen. Then she lets the dogs out of their crates and cleans the pee and poo from their patio. When she’s done, if we’re not awake, she washes our cars so as not to disturb us inside the house. If we want something special for breakfast, other than cereal, it is prepared in a heartbeat.
Maria is a stealth maid. She somehow manages to know what room you’re going to be in when and is always in another. She does our laundry, irons like no tomorrow and I’ve taught her to polish the silver. She helps me chase snakes and wasps off the front porch. She reminds me every year when it is the day that my father died. She tells me when a bird is trapped inside the front gate light and we need to set it free.
I’ve learned that one cannot assume. My friend Toby and his girlfriend Yvonne, brought us a beautiful cashmere blanket from Vienna when they came to visit. While we were away, Maria thought she’d wash it for us. It shrank to about the size of a napkin so she and the gardener thought they’d try to stretch it out. It now has a very interesting shape and not nearly the old texture. Subsequently we’ve taught her to read labels and have a separate space for our dry clean only items.
Rod and I have a ritual when we travel. We buy cooking magazines in Spanish and read the recipes. When we find something that sounds good we give it to Maria to cook for our main meal (comida) of the day. She is becoming an excellent cook and has branched out from Mexican food and now prepares a lovely Thai peanut pork thingy. When we have parties, she pulls in a couple of sisters and has cooked for up to 80 people for a fraction of the price of hiring caterers. (Guests have commented that it was the best traditional Mexican food that they’ve ever eaten.)
So when our gardener resigned (no great loss), Maria and I discussed the possibility of hiring a young, handsome man, who is fond of working with his shirt off. I gave the hiring assignment to Rodrigo who subsequently hired his assistant’s father who is as old as the hills and has no front teeth. Lesson learned. (However he is supposed to be some kind of “plant whisperer” and so far, is doing a great job.)
For reference, Maria earns less than $120 USD per week. The gardener, about $50 USD per week. I’m losing my cooking skills and when the house is a mess, I think, “It’s ok. Maria will be here tomorrow.” For an obsessive – compulsive like me, change is not always a bad thing.
I was not raised with staff. My mother made her own clothes and we switched from ice cream bars to ice cream in a carton because it was cheaper. We went from a Chevy Impala to a Chevy Vega because gas prices rose to nearly $0.50 per gallon (now my age is showing). My toys were old sets of keys and broken telephones. Was I happy? Yes, I was. We were country folk and I didn’t know any better and didn’t envy anyone.
Now I’m country folk again. However, I have a full-time maid and a part-time gardener.
I had difficulty, at first, having someone around the house all the time. I didn’t really want a full-time maid, part-time seemed good enough to me; even a luxury. However, with six dogs and two cats, it began to seem necessary. Plus, Maria was my father’s primary care-giver and she was turning down other full-time job offers because she wanted to work for us. (Whether this is true or a slight manipulation I’ll never know.)
We’re blessed. Maria is a person who always has a smile on her face. Her demeanor is constantly positive. She believes that life is too short to be unhappy. She is the same age as me and has a 30 year-old son, her father has dementia. She has over 150 relatives who live in and around San Miguel de Allende. If I need something fixed, or hauled away or repaired, she can usually call a family member and it is done. She and her 11 year-old son, housesit for us when we travel.
Maria arrives at 8:00 AM and peels me a fresh grapefruit which she leaves in the kitchen. Then she lets the dogs out of their crates and cleans the pee and poo from their patio. When she’s done, if we’re not awake, she washes our cars so as not to disturb us inside the house. If we want something special for breakfast, other than cereal, it is prepared in a heartbeat.
Maria is a stealth maid. She somehow manages to know what room you’re going to be in when and is always in another. She does our laundry, irons like no tomorrow and I’ve taught her to polish the silver. She helps me chase snakes and wasps off the front porch. She reminds me every year when it is the day that my father died. She tells me when a bird is trapped inside the front gate light and we need to set it free.
I’ve learned that one cannot assume. My friend Toby and his girlfriend Yvonne, brought us a beautiful cashmere blanket from Vienna when they came to visit. While we were away, Maria thought she’d wash it for us. It shrank to about the size of a napkin so she and the gardener thought they’d try to stretch it out. It now has a very interesting shape and not nearly the old texture. Subsequently we’ve taught her to read labels and have a separate space for our dry clean only items.
Rod and I have a ritual when we travel. We buy cooking magazines in Spanish and read the recipes. When we find something that sounds good we give it to Maria to cook for our main meal (comida) of the day. She is becoming an excellent cook and has branched out from Mexican food and now prepares a lovely Thai peanut pork thingy. When we have parties, she pulls in a couple of sisters and has cooked for up to 80 people for a fraction of the price of hiring caterers. (Guests have commented that it was the best traditional Mexican food that they’ve ever eaten.)
So when our gardener resigned (no great loss), Maria and I discussed the possibility of hiring a young, handsome man, who is fond of working with his shirt off. I gave the hiring assignment to Rodrigo who subsequently hired his assistant’s father who is as old as the hills and has no front teeth. Lesson learned. (However he is supposed to be some kind of “plant whisperer” and so far, is doing a great job.)
For reference, Maria earns less than $120 USD per week. The gardener, about $50 USD per week. I’m losing my cooking skills and when the house is a mess, I think, “It’s ok. Maria will be here tomorrow.” For an obsessive – compulsive like me, change is not always a bad thing.
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