She called. Girllie, the maid, that is.
She asked to speak to Fahim – her English isn’t up to the task – but Fahim was praying, so she tried to explain it to me.
The mutterings worked out to something like her brother was in prison, and that’s why she couldn’t come.
Then why didn’t she call yesterday to tell me that? Then I could have hired someone else today to come in and clean. Of course, I didn’t say this to her – she either wouldn’t have understood, would have pretended that she didn’t understand, or would have ended up being entirely hurt and offended. In other words, not worth it.
I didn’t entirely understand her, so I told her to call back in ten minutes.
She just did.
So* she tells Fahim that her brother was caught for (something or other) and is in jail, and it was apparently in the news and everything, so she’s been running around trying to get him released and that’s why she couldn’t come.
She could have called yesterday. In fact, if she’s been running around for a few days, she could likely have called Monday. She didn’t. She waited until this afternoon to call – when it’s already too late for me to get someone else to do the cleaning.
She says she’ll come in a few days to clean, and Fahim tells her not to. We may not be home because my sister and the kids are arriving tomorrow. Tomorrow? she says, surprised. Yes, tomorrow. In a few days is too late.
Tomorrow? I didn’t know.
But. She called twice. Sri Lankans don’t usually go to that much bother. Does it make it true? Who knows? Who ever knows?
Ech. I dunno.
Another consideration. Telling us about her brother in prison is risky for her – it’s considered a shameful act. It increases the likelihood that she’s telling the truth.
On the other hand, she could be banking on exactly that.
Ech. Still don’t know.