At work there are two women helpers who service the office. Every day they bring us glasses of water or other drinks at our desks. One of them is responsible for my section of the office. I’m not sure what her name is, and neither are my colleagues. (Shows how much they care.) They call her the Tea Lady.
Apparently my company has some enviro-friendly practices, one of which is bring-your-own-mug-to-work. I don’t know if they do this in the non-Asia offices, but apparently the Tea Lady will make you tea or coffee to your tastes, in your own mug, and bring it to you every morning. She will bring a refill in the afternoon. She will also remember which mug is yours, and she will remember how you like your tea or coffee.
I’m not used to a culture of “domestic helpers” (they are really servants, I’m tired of being politically correct sometimes), but this seems like a nice thing to have, in a land where the cost of labor is so low.
So I looked favorably upon the Tea Lady. On my first day, right off the bat, she brought me a glass of water to my desk. She only speaks Cantonese, and understands a few words of English (i.e. “thank you”). So I can’t really communicate with her. If I could, maybe I would have asked her how she liked work, or what were her hobbies, or other things I could have gotten to know about her.
But my relationship with the Tea Lady turned sour. My first week at work, I still didn’t know all of the information I just divulged, about bring-your-own-mug and that jazz. I thought the office had a random assortment of mugs and some people happened to like using a certain mug all the time.
I saw everybody else enjoying nice beverage treats, so I thought I would have one too. I kind of felt like having green tea instead of a glass of room-temperature water, so I got a mug from the pantry and made some tea.
The next day I went to the pantry again to get a mug, and the Tea Lady was there washing mugs. She said something to me in Cantonese as I reached for the mug. I didn’t really understand her, but clearly she was not condoning my actions.
“I don’t understand,” I said in Mandarin.
She took the mug from my hands and made a “no” gesture with her hands. She pointed at all the other mugs and continued speaking and gesturing.
“OK…sorry..” I said. I didn't understand why, but I guessed I was resigned to a summer of not enjoying beverages of my choice.
Then one of the people in my department explained the beverage/mug policy to me. “But I have an extra mug I don’t like,” she added. “I can give it to you.”
“Great! That would be awesome,” I said. Now I wouldn’t be a coffee pariah anymore. I would join the official mug-using community.
She showed me the mug the next day. It was a “funny” mug because it had a purposeful brown stain on the lip as part of the design. It wasn’t my style because the brown stain kind of weirded me out, which is probably why she didn’t want the mug either—but it would do. I started using it at the office that day.
After lunch I came back to my desk and started doing more work. That is, being semi-productive while I had gchat open and uploaded the occasional blog post.
Then, a woman I had never seen before came to my desk, trailed by the Tea Lady. The Tea Lady was wringing her hands and jabbering in Cantonese. The woman with her said to me, “You can’t use this mug, it belong to someone else--”
“No, no, no!” I pleaded. “This really is my mug!”
My friend who had given me the mug was sitting in the row behind me. I pointed at her. “She gave it to me!”
The Tea Lady and her comrade looked at the mug, looked at my friend, and then back at me. Their eyes flattened in suspicion. I needed vindication.
I called out to my friend, “Tell them you gave me the mug!”
Jasmin turned and saw the Tea Lady. “It’s okay,” she said. “I gave her this mug. It was a free mug.”
“Mike has this mug,” friend of Tea Lady insisted. They still didn’t want to budge.
“It was a free mug,” Jasmin explained. “Maybe other people in the office have it too.”
Tea Lady and Friend left our workspace grumbling in low tones. I felt hurt and wronged, a familiar feeling in my life. People always assume the worst of me. I couldn’t believe the Tea Lady was still against me. Would I be ostracized from the mug community for the rest of the summer?
A few minutes later Tea Lady came back laughing and holding another white mug with a deliberate brown stain. Again, talking animatedly, not a word of which I could understand. At least this time she seemed amused. She pointed at the mug in her hands, then pointed at my mug, and patted me on the arm. “Ha ha ha!” I forced a chuckle. I said, in a slow and loud tone, the kind you use with children or foreigners, “I understand. Is funny. Looks same. Ha ha ha.”
Tea Lady left cackling and I sat back down at my desk. Goddamn, this kind of shit always happens to me, I thought. But at least maybe now I will get to have my tea or latte in peace. Maybe Tea Lady and I can be friends. Maybe she will remember how much cream and sugar I like in my coffee.
It’s been 3 days since the mug incident, but every day she still just brings me room temperature water in my new mug.
*The first pic is of my mug. The second pic is of the other rando’s mug. Jasmin colored part of my mug to make it easier for Tea Lady to distinguish between them.
Apparently my company has some enviro-friendly practices, one of which is bring-your-own-mug-to-work. I don’t know if they do this in the non-Asia offices, but apparently the Tea Lady will make you tea or coffee to your tastes, in your own mug, and bring it to you every morning. She will bring a refill in the afternoon. She will also remember which mug is yours, and she will remember how you like your tea or coffee.
I’m not used to a culture of “domestic helpers” (they are really servants, I’m tired of being politically correct sometimes), but this seems like a nice thing to have, in a land where the cost of labor is so low.
So I looked favorably upon the Tea Lady. On my first day, right off the bat, she brought me a glass of water to my desk. She only speaks Cantonese, and understands a few words of English (i.e. “thank you”). So I can’t really communicate with her. If I could, maybe I would have asked her how she liked work, or what were her hobbies, or other things I could have gotten to know about her.
But my relationship with the Tea Lady turned sour. My first week at work, I still didn’t know all of the information I just divulged, about bring-your-own-mug and that jazz. I thought the office had a random assortment of mugs and some people happened to like using a certain mug all the time.
I saw everybody else enjoying nice beverage treats, so I thought I would have one too. I kind of felt like having green tea instead of a glass of room-temperature water, so I got a mug from the pantry and made some tea.
The next day I went to the pantry again to get a mug, and the Tea Lady was there washing mugs. She said something to me in Cantonese as I reached for the mug. I didn’t really understand her, but clearly she was not condoning my actions.
“I don’t understand,” I said in Mandarin.
She took the mug from my hands and made a “no” gesture with her hands. She pointed at all the other mugs and continued speaking and gesturing.
“OK…sorry..” I said. I didn't understand why, but I guessed I was resigned to a summer of not enjoying beverages of my choice.
Then one of the people in my department explained the beverage/mug policy to me. “But I have an extra mug I don’t like,” she added. “I can give it to you.”
“Great! That would be awesome,” I said. Now I wouldn’t be a coffee pariah anymore. I would join the official mug-using community.
She showed me the mug the next day. It was a “funny” mug because it had a purposeful brown stain on the lip as part of the design. It wasn’t my style because the brown stain kind of weirded me out, which is probably why she didn’t want the mug either—but it would do. I started using it at the office that day.
After lunch I came back to my desk and started doing more work. That is, being semi-productive while I had gchat open and uploaded the occasional blog post.
Then, a woman I had never seen before came to my desk, trailed by the Tea Lady. The Tea Lady was wringing her hands and jabbering in Cantonese. The woman with her said to me, “You can’t use this mug, it belong to someone else--”
“No, no, no!” I pleaded. “This really is my mug!”
My friend who had given me the mug was sitting in the row behind me. I pointed at her. “She gave it to me!”
The Tea Lady and her comrade looked at the mug, looked at my friend, and then back at me. Their eyes flattened in suspicion. I needed vindication.
I called out to my friend, “Tell them you gave me the mug!”
Jasmin turned and saw the Tea Lady. “It’s okay,” she said. “I gave her this mug. It was a free mug.”
“Mike has this mug,” friend of Tea Lady insisted. They still didn’t want to budge.
“It was a free mug,” Jasmin explained. “Maybe other people in the office have it too.”
Tea Lady and Friend left our workspace grumbling in low tones. I felt hurt and wronged, a familiar feeling in my life. People always assume the worst of me. I couldn’t believe the Tea Lady was still against me. Would I be ostracized from the mug community for the rest of the summer?
A few minutes later Tea Lady came back laughing and holding another white mug with a deliberate brown stain. Again, talking animatedly, not a word of which I could understand. At least this time she seemed amused. She pointed at the mug in her hands, then pointed at my mug, and patted me on the arm. “Ha ha ha!” I forced a chuckle. I said, in a slow and loud tone, the kind you use with children or foreigners, “I understand. Is funny. Looks same. Ha ha ha.”
Tea Lady left cackling and I sat back down at my desk. Goddamn, this kind of shit always happens to me, I thought. But at least maybe now I will get to have my tea or latte in peace. Maybe Tea Lady and I can be friends. Maybe she will remember how much cream and sugar I like in my coffee.
It’s been 3 days since the mug incident, but every day she still just brings me room temperature water in my new mug.
*The first pic is of my mug. The second pic is of the other rando’s mug. Jasmin colored part of my mug to make it easier for Tea Lady to distinguish between them.
Posts
1 comment:
what up Viv,
this is Jack. How are those two people that you're sharing apartment with? Do they seem normal/reliable?
Post a Comment