My Aka

"No, Boss. If Boss no give money, I no take, Boss."

Aka

For those not having the privilege to be trapped of studying in India like yours truly; Aka can be literally translated as 'Big Sister', but in all practicality, it actually means "Maid" or "Cleaning Lady".

In the whole past week, I've been trying to pay her her last month's wages - which can prove quite a challenge because - well - we don't meet very often. You see, she only comes in to clean when I go to class (because I hate incursions into my lovely, lovely privacy).

Of course, some of you may have qualms (as did I) about a giving a stranger the key to your home, and leaving her at leisure to loot and plunder. Though the senior staying in the ground floor of our triple-storey Tower of Fugliness spoke highly of her, and vouched passionately for her honesty, I remained unconvinced initially. I'm just not a trusting sort of guy. Heck, I don't even trust my own Mom (never did - since the day she fooled me into eating frog meat, telling me it was chicken when I was 5).

So I devised a little experiment to find out;

On the first day I was expecting the Aka to come, I scattered a specific amount of coins on the floor of my room, giving the impression that I am the type of guy that's careless with money (okay, I am, but that's not the point). The plan is, I wanted to see if she can be tempted to sneak away a rupee or two, since after all - someone who's capable of stealing a lot can't rightly resist the little bit which no one will miss anyway right?

So when I came home from class that day, I found that my rat-hole of a place had received a thorough spic-spanning. On my desk in a white plastic bag was the coins I had sowed on the floor earlier (that's nice of her, I thought). But her honesty remained to be judged.

I counted the coins carefully, rupee by rupee lest I make a mistake. I found that the number wasn't right.

So I counted them again.

And again.

There were more money in the plastic bag than what I have laid down for her to find.

Bag o' coins.

Now that white plastic bag is a permanent fixture in my room, for her to toss in any change she finds while cleaning (and boy, the bag's getting heavy!). Honestly, a beggar can make a living by just following wherever I walk.

So where was I before I digressed? Oh yeah, paying her!

Attempt #1.

I admit, I am extremely talented in forgetting to pay my rent or bills or debts (in a wholly different manner from my practiced skill of "forgetting" to do my class assignments) - and my Aka reminded me that I was already one week overdue in giving her her money.

So, I left her 360 rupees (about RM30) on my desk prior to attending lectures on Tuesday last week - 10 rupees more than what she asked because she did such a smashing job at keeping up with a one so staggeringly gifted in the art of slobbery i.e me.

I came home finding the cash untouched - but the place had been meticulously scrubbed down yet again.

Attempt #2. Pretend you didn't see the empty vodka bottle, okay?

Okay, maybe someone as honest as her won't presume to take whatever cash I've laid on my desk as her salary (though she would have been justified in doing since I was late in paying her anyway) - so I tried again;

This time, I placed the moolahs on the counter in my "anteroom", right where the mop, broom and other cleaning supplies stood. C'mon, there's no way she can miss it this time, right?

Yet again, I return to my apartment which shone as if an army of House Elves had launched Operation M.O.P.S.T.O.R.M there while I was away. And yea, the Paper Gandhis were still there with not a single rupee missing. *smacks head*

At long last, I spotted her on Friday and gave her the money. I asked her why she did not take the money I left out for her - and her answer is now forever immortalised up there as the Quote-o'-the-Post.

My Blue Blankie.

Frankly, I cannot offer her enough praise. Besides general-cleaning duties, she also does my laundry. It's as if I did not generate enough dirty clothes for her to wash, she would strip my bed-sheet from my mattress periodically to give it a good scrub (even though I did not tell her to).

Just last Thursday, I came home finding my blanket hanging in the breeze - with all its "wondrous" scents wrung out of it. I knew it wanted washing, but I never quite gotten around to remembering to drop it into the laundry basket.

But Aka took care of that anyway.

I have endless admiration for people who do their jobs properly and honestly - two simple, yet very rare virtues. 350 rupees for cleaning + laundry services every two days seemed terribly paltry to me, especially when it's performed by someone as committed as Aka.

I'm thinking of raising it.

Aka.

All hail Mega Slob,
k0k s3n w4i