"Is it strange having her live with you guys?"

Ray shook his head. "We have a small guest room. Much bigger than what other families give to their domestic helpers."

I scratched my chin. "A friend told me that sometimes all they're given is a plank on a washing machine to sleep on."

Ray laughed. "I've never heard of that, but I don't doubt it's true."

"It seems hella cruel."

"One of my neighbors makes his domestic helper wash his car every day. Every single day. Even when it's raining. I sometimes see her outside in the rain, and I'll ask her, 'Why are you washing the car in the rain? Why don't you just wait until the rain stops?' She said, 'I can't. I need to wash the car every day at this time, no matter what.'"

I sat up. "Now that is hella cruel! And just crazy and dumb… not to mention, inefficient!"

"Yup. Many families don't treat their domestic helpers well. They treat them like slaves."

I shook my head. "Hella cruel…"

We both looked out the window at the Hong Kong skyline for a moment. City lights were sprinkled like Christmas lights everywhere.

"However," Ray continued. "Did you know that many of these domestic helpers can return to the Philippines and retire? After about thirty years of service, some of them will have saved up enough money to retire and never have to work again. I wish I could do that here in Hong Kong."

"Wow. Yea, I wish I could do that in the US too."

"You and I, we'll have to work much more than that. Forty, fifty, sixty years. Who knows?"

"I guess the standard of living in the Philippines is that low, huh?"

"Yes, very low." Ray shook his head. "I'm not saying they'll be living like kings and queens. It's just that, for their standard of living, the amount of money they make here is a lot more than what they could make in their own country."

"Almost sounds like a sweat shop."

"Maybe. If you look at how some of them are treated, that could be the case. From a US point of view, it sounds cruel. From a Filipino point of view, it's working for a better life. It's all relative."

I stared out the window. The night sky seemed alive with beads of light. All sorts of colors filled the skyline.

"Oh, have you heard about the Filipino gatherings in Central on Sundays?" Ray asked.

"I have! Too bad I won't be here long enough to see it."

"It's quite a sight. The first time I saw it, I had no idea what was going on. There are sooo many Filipino domestic helpers in Hong Kong. It's unbelievable."

"A friend told me the place is flooded on Sundays."

"It is! It's quite a sight."

Ray's domestic helper appeared behind us. She asked him something in Cantonese. He replied and motioned toward the kitchen table. She smiled and shook her head. Then she walked off to the guest room.

"You just offered her some food, right?"

Ray smiled. "Ah, your Cantonese is getting better."

"Yea, I've picked up a bit more since I've been here."

"Yup. I offered her some desserts, but she didn't want any. There's no more work to do for today, so she's going to sleep now."

I patted Ray on the back. "There's certainly no sweat shop in the Ray household. You're good peoples, Ray. She's going to retire and tell great stories about you back in the Philippines."

Ray laughed as we walked from the window. "Let me make you some tea."

. . .

Do you have a domestic helper?