Often when I relate our story, Manjula interjects to declare: ‘you’re my maid.’ Well she might be right. Tools of my trade this morning are: hard box (Thali thing for serving breakfast), handle to adjust bed recliner, hands for holding (when having umpteen blood tests) and destroying mosquitoes, remote for TV, motorbike for fetching things…. I now have my role in life đ
COMFORT ZONE
well and truly out of mine….. on the other hand its one of the many, some quite, unbelievable challenges Manjula has faced in her life. As usual, she manages this one with her usual, formidable, tenacious, but always gentle strength…..one helluva strong woman.
She jokingly calls it her honeymoon now she’s out of intensive care wolfing down her food and in a room ‘with a view.’
It wasn’t exactly unexpected as she has a serious lung condition that can’t improve. She will stay in hospital a few more days to observe and see what’s required when she gets home.
It’s a bloody relief.
Lucie says: “it’s about time we told Manjula’s and our story”
Stephen : ok, ok, more to follow.
Sort of snippet
Just back from a MYCycle tour on Srirangaptnam with mother and her son from Delhi.
Everywhere were signs that it’s Ugadi or the Hindu new year. People amassing leaves, positioning them around their entry door, creating ornate and colourful Rangoli, to invite the Gods, girls all dressed up, people splashing and having family fun at the bathing ghats.
Coincidentally, I get back to a new parcel from Amazon. A book ….. 
The author is an effective self-publicist and has rightly challenged many of the assumptions around the British Raj. This book on Hinduism (which isn’t an ism, just my humble view) is a timely counter to the increasing, unsettling, unacceptable, extremism that we’re currently hearing and seeing.
Meanwhile, Manjula has been back at home getting a well deserved lie in (guest numbers are reducing now we’ve reached the end of the season) punctuated by endless phone calls from our friends wishing a Happy Ugadi, so Happy Ugadi to you too.
It’s been a bit of a weird week. A couple of diary pages (yes it’s a paper diary) helps illustrate. The first picture are from a usual busy day. Most rooms are booked out, small drawings indicates which room is reserved for which guest. Cars are booked to drop people at their next homestay and one will pick up guests arriving at the airport. A cycle tour is planned on Srirangaptnam. Simple!
On the other hand these pages tell an altogether different story.
Sometimes things come in clusters.
The pages show that the Bed and Breakfast is at the status of FF which means we’re so full that I haven’t a bed room. We have guests from France and the UK, numerous arrivals, dinner planned, transport arranged for trips in Mysore and further afield, cycle tours everyday, rooms allocated, drops to the next homestay, guests returning for a second time, and many enquiries that had to be turned down.
It can become a bit of a challenge when one thing after another doesn’t quite fall into place.
First mistake, the booking clerk (yes that’s me) expected a guest in February when they were in fact due in March, (not really a problem), another guest reserved rooms in Feb instead of March, two companies made reservations that didn’t materialise, yes and the very same booking clerk also forgot to charge guests for some transport, what a hectic few days…. and to top it all, Lucie managed to get herself locked in a nearby house when the owners had gone on a ten day pilgrimage to a distant Temple!
….. I wonder if this page actually reflects how my brain really works…. or doesn’t, should I be worried? đ
The wonderful Mysore is featured in the UK Newspaper, The Guardian. Please check here.
See if you can spot two mentions and a photograph of our very own team.
Stairway to heaven….
I think not!
But it is a new beginning.
We know there are many of our friends in India and around the world looking forward to hearing about our latest tussles with the bureaucracy.
So here it is….
Weâve taken the big friendly giant (BFG) step and now fully registered Mysore Bed and Breakfast with the Police, the City Corporation and the Karnataka State Government. Itâs been an absolute âjoy.â Yes, really đ
If you like to see âthe big pictureâ first check the one at the bottom.
Step One
Visit: The Police Commissioner, followed by the local Police Station, to get a letter saying Manjula is a cool chick. No no no…. to show there are no objections ie. sheâs a great character, has no record and the Police and neighbours have no objections.
Please note weâre saving you the agony by missing out 90% of the actual experience of visiting and managing the differently organised police service.
Step Two
ok, so youâve got your âget out of jail freeâ card, or your statement saying thereâs no objection. Now collect up your documents: rental agreement, letter from owner agreeing to you using the house as a homestay, receipt for payment of tax.
Go to the office.
Then sort out the mistakes: redo rental agreement (letter not good enough) and pay extra tax. Spend two weeks trying to meet up with the officials, get letter typed up, and on and on and on… you just wouldnât believe it…
is it incompetence, âwe donât careâ attitude or an intentional wind-up?
Step Three
The registration with the Karnataka Government was relatively straight forward. Complete the online form, upload the documents provided by the Police and City Corporation and rental agreement. Pay the bill, electronically or face the ordeal of going to a state bank queuing up, paying in cash or bankers daft, getting a receipt, scanning it in, uploading it. Forget that option! paid-up…. We now await the visit of the inspectors.
Step Four
Register on line with the Police to have foreigners come and stay and complete the online Form C within 24 hours of each foreigner who comes to stay. Weâll provide more details of this wonderful…. time consuming employment creation ordeal…. later to enable me (Stephen) to fully flaunt my Yorkshire sarcasm.
So weâve done it. The team has arrived at the top step, weâve had our highs and lows, weâve learned to laugh and cry, weâve met formidable obstacles, gone with the flow, weâve sunk our flag in the hallowed ground. Itâs taken time, almost a year, weâve grown as a team and Manjula has made it happen. Phew!
Sheâs a star!
Next…. weâll we do it all again next year.
The big picture
The A team includes:
Manjula, aka the boss, on point, who has traipsed around all the offices, made endless phone calls, been endlessly put off, turned up at the key offices to find the âhoudiniâ *official/policeman/Babu/patriarch (*delete as appropriate) has disappeared…. gone for lunch, on holiday, maybe hiding in the toilet, who knows? She gets a gold star for determination, fortitude, strength, with just a little innocence in the mix. madam has seriously been through it all!
Akram, auto driver extraordinaire, helping Manjula face the torture, mysticism and labyrinth workings of the Mysore City Corporation, and hiding outside when she faced the officials of the police commissioners office or the helpful smiley chaps at the local Police Station. To be fair heâs an auto rickshaw driver, rightly with an innate fear of coming into close contact with the constabulary.
Vidya and Tanu. Our knight-ettes in shining armour. Being Manjulaâs counsellor, advocate, comforter, advisor and support in dealing with the Police.
Stephen, The clerk, computer operator, form filler, recorder and scribe. He lurks in the background. In the belief that to show his pale face will significantly add to the costs of said registration process.
Thank you for your invaluable help!
“My hometown is Mysore. I was born and raised in Mysore. I have struggled a lot as a young girl. My father sent me to school, but education wasn’t something that came easily to me. I attended school till 5th standard. As I wasnât good at studies my father stopped me from going to school. After leaving school, I started doing household chores, tying flower strands and other things. As a small girl, I learned many household works. As I grew up, as I started to acquire some knowledge I started to make money by tying flower strands and selling.”
“My mom left us when we were still young. She had a quarrel and disagreement with my father and left us all and went to her fatherâs house. Later, my father raised us all even with some difficulties. My mother came back after a while, but my father didnât let her in. My father married another woman, she didnât look after us very well, and she didnât give us enough food. Later my younger brother started working at a hotel; he would bring us food for the nights.
As we grew up and started to learn things, I joined as a housemaid to a family in Bangalore. Â The family for whom I worked wanted a housekeeper for their younger brotherâs house in Bombay. They took me to Bombay and I worked there for 10 years. Even there, I looked after a baby for 3 years and the household works for the rest of the years. I never came back to Mysore. After 10 years, the family shifted to Singapore, they offered me to continue the same job with more pay. I didn’t go as my family was here in India and it would be difficult for me to come back from Singapore. I came back to my hometown, Mysore.”
Farrell Footnote.
I’m not altogether sure what happened at school. One of the stories she tell me is she would ask the teacher if she could leave the classroom to go for a number one (pee). Then legging it, with her brother left in the classroom having to carry her bags home. What a naughty girl! I don’t think she was there very often. There was a big bust up with her father and it led to her being taken out of school. This was the very school featured in our tortuous journey to get her transfer certificate (TC), to get a PAN (tax) card to get a passport as the TC was the only evidence she had of her birthdate. check here
There are so many things to unpick here: starting work from a very early age, her mother abandoning her and then returning ( a pattern she repeats to this day), relations with her various ‘step-parents’ (their favouritism and neglect) and the fluid marital relationships in some communities in India, the multiple jobs to earn a crust, life as a maid travelling across India to work with an unknown family in a completely alien city or even travelling internationally into what can be quite stark and challenging circumstances (more of that one later). Which seems to be a pretty standard thing for ‘children’ from poor families..
One of the obvious observations is that its a pretty hard life if you’re poor in India (and no doubt elsewhere). Here in India, have been incredibly stoic, dealing well with lifeâs paradoxes, whilst necessarily being resilient, adaptable and creative. Itâs one of the first things we notice as first time visitors and as we get to know the country and itâs people better, we notice how wonderful they are and how mean some can be.
So, its probably 2010, Manjula the maid is now working for me at Moksha Marga. She’s an experenced Maid working for Indian families but what is her view of foreigners?
this quote is taken from a series of recordings made by Manjula in her own language and details an incident from before she met me and started working here….
” I lived at my brotherâs place. Once my brotherâs wife and I were out to purchase something from a shop, itâs a small village, it comes after Hassan, itâs called Salgami. On our way back home we saw two foreigners, a couple, they were cycling. My brotherâs wife said in astonishment, âLook how these English people are cycling in our village. I think they like to see villages.â She continued, âIf you work at an English personâs house you will earn well enough, theyâll offer you good food, nice and rich food. Imagine, if I was not married, I would have worked at an English personâs house. I would have eaten the same food as they did, I would be happy and jolly. â
I said, âAyyayappa! English personâs house? A big NO to their house. They eat insects, they eat all kinds of meat, they eat cowâs meat, pigâs meat and what not! And a few also eat insects.â I said this as I had watched in television; in a few shows which showed them eating many creatures â
She said, âItâs not necessary that everyone eats. The ones who eat will eat and there are the ones who donât eat at all. â
Later we reached home.
After 6 months, I came to Mysore. Look what happened with me? The same thing what my brotherâs wife had said, I got a job at an Englishmanâs house. I remember Stephen had asked for a maid for this house, a girl or an old lady. I was lucky to find his house and he was lucky to find me.
I was wondered thinking about all kinds of meat I might have to cook. Later I heard it from Vasanth that Stephen was looking for only vegetarian food to be cooked. âThank God!â I was relieved.
I eat chicken, mutton and fish. I can cook them all but if it was any other meat I wouldnât have touched it. I would have reluctantly said âNOâ to cook any other meat.
Farrell Footnote
Vasanth with his trusty auto rickshaw (not its not a tuk tuk!) provides a great ‘Fare’s Fare’ service to our guests. I met him hustling for a fare when I arrived in Mysore on my very first trip after a few days in Bangalore. He’s become a great friend and an invaluable source of help and support.
we’ve had requests to provide a bit more of an explanation.
So this was over seven years ago, maybe a few months after she’d started at ‘Moksha Manor’. good old enlightenment street! Â She came every day for two hours, had to make lunch and a range of other jobs for the princely sum of 1000 Rupees per month. In theory with one days holiday each week.
Starting from the top left and working clockwise in a sort of spiral. Some jobs were daily, weekly or monthly…
floor sweeping, sink cleaning,  pooja, dusting pictures, cooking, cleaning work surfaces, tables, f (special one this, looking after her skin. she was having a reaction to something, it worked out to be the sun, after a few false trails), watering flowers, cleaning toilets (yes cleaning toilets, more on that one later), being friendly to the dog, teaching me Kannada (big failure there, on my part, obviously) feeding the dog when I’m not there and bathing her, washing clothes, daily time keeping, cleaning the grills (anti crime and Monkeys) at the windows, floor cleaning, dusting and washing shelving in ‘hall’, cleaning bathroom.  Clearly this was also supposed to be fun! and there were a few other more complicated concepts such as trust đ believe it or not and it did take the involvement of a few friends but we even managed to discuss egalitarianism (using different words, obviously) so what had she let herself in for?
so, to explain the job. Ok we donât speak the same language, sheâs probably a little worried and intimidated, coming to work for an unknown quantity: foreigner, male, living on his own, can be a bit loud and over-energetic… so of course, I used my well developed training skills. …… and got out the whiteboard, flapped my arms and generally danced around a bit. I seriously wonder what she thought. On many occasions she shown people the photo of my drawings. Promptly followed by sniggers and giggles.
So I wonder what she really thought of working for a Firangi!
Me and MYCycle 