In(Visible): Episodes of Living, Loving & Learning Abroad
A
Ayanna N. Abdul- Mateen
Episode #1
The woman moved easily through the still house, examining its state. She took note of neglected corners decorated with weeks-old dust to bring to the housekeeper attention. Having only been employed at this house for a month, the new kadama had proven excellent with the care of the children but less so with her cleaning duties. However, the woman was not worried; cleaning could be improved. She was most concerned with the contentment of her three small children, and they were always pleasingly joyful upon her daily return home from work.
She continued on downstairs, leaving her two young sons and infant daughter asleep in the haze of the late afternoon sun. The air-conditioning unit ran with a steady hum in the children’s room and served to dim any external sounds that might intrude on their slumber. As she descended the staircase, the grateful mother anticipated a reprieve, however brief. After teaching three English Composition courses at the local university, she was exhausted from the day. She welcomed a few moments of quiet, of time to contemplate her own writings.
Approaching the living room, laptop in hand, her abaya floated open as she walked. Her husband had chosen the blue woven fabric with its delicate floral embroidery and had it designed and tailored to suit. He had a knack for gifting exquisite gifts, and this was one of her favorite. He would be home soon and would appreciate her wearing it. They would discuss their evening plans. Dinner or a movie? Dinner and a movie? She wondered what he would fancy after the week he’d had.
A plume of spicy Arabian oud wafted on the air. Having just lit the aromatic wood chips, the kadama, upon seeing the Madame, smiled and silently, quickly exited the room. The woman appreciated the thoughtfulness of her employee and was affirmed in her decision to take the housekeeper on. She moved to her favorite spot on the upholstered sofa where she found her afternoon tea waiting, cardamom-infused and sweet. “Yes, this kadama will do just fine,” she thought as she enjoyed her first calming sip.
The salesman stood outside the house. Three steps sat between him and the large, wooden, double-doors. As he gathered himself to make his pitch, the sun beat down mercilessly upon his back and his body responded; he was sweating. He carried pamphlets advertising his entertainment/cinema vouchers. He also used them to fan himself in this, the hottest hour of the day. His work required him to be mobile, yet to be so, he had only his two feet at his disposal. He had been laboring since morning, however the day had yet to reward his efforts with a sale.
He was pressed. Earlier in the week, his wife had sent a text message pleading for an increase in
the monthly remittance. He knew she needed it. He had left her at home in India to care for their four small children while he worked abroad for the promise of a good salary. However, the salary was not as promised, and he simply did not have more money to send. Even more pressing, though, was the dull, persistent pain that throbbed at the base of his back gums