See you after Valentine's Day!

Frankly, I don't know if you would be relieved or upset when you hear this.

But whatever it is, it is going to happen.

I am returning home on the week of Valentine's Day.

...

What happened, I hear you ask.

Hhmm...tough question.

Today is my fourth day of work in the new family. I have been working from 7am to 7pm with a 2hr supposed break which really wasn't a break.

Yesterday was my third day of work. I was up chasing kids around the Museum of Natural History and getting yelled at for being inattentive.

Friday was my second day of work. I was working from 630am to 730pm. I had laundry to do, cooking to finish up and groceries to buy. When the host dad came home to find the clothes unfinished, he asked me what I have been doing the whole day. And you know what? I have been working the whole day. And I was exhausted.

And no, I am not joking. I am not joking at all.

Thursday was my first day of work. Then, I still had some peace and quiet and everything was still good. I was still feeling blessed...but that was only the beginning of my worst nightmare. And the saddest/stupidest/most incredible thing was...I hadn't the least idea of it at all.

...

Call me gullible. Call me naive.

Call me haughty. Call me arrogant.

It was really too much.

If you are grumbling about insufficient pay and long working hours, then my plight should perhaps give you some consolation.

How much per hour am I paid currently?

$3.57.

No kidding.

How many work hours have I per week?

45.

Not one hour less.

And Singapore's labour regulation caps it at 44, in case you didn't know.

...

What is child-care? What exactly is child-care related duties?

Taking care of the kid?

In terms of what?

Nobody knows.

I should have asked. I was stupid enough to not have asked.

How was I to know?

Well, then I was stupid enough to assume.

Stupid, so so so stupid.

So incredibly stupid.

That Thursday night was the beginning of my estrangement from God.

...

I should have guessed from the first sign. I didn't.

Wednesday was supposed to be my rest day. I was dead beat and tired and the host dad wanted me to be up early to follow them to school before I go home to pick up my stuff.

I was tired. But it didn't matter to him.

And he even want to take that day from me. *laughs bitterly*

So I went to pick up the stuff after waking up at 6am in the morning.

Ok...

I was stupid. I didn't take that sign.

I went to pick up my stuff. And in the evening, he requested that I follow him to the childcare center even when he said "it is your choice".

Note the irony. he said that it was my choice, but he requested anyway.

I was tired. But it didn't matter to him.

Ok...

I was stupid. Nothing occured to me. I was just pissed. *laughs bitterly again*

I didn't like his tone of talking to me. He always commanded me like I am a servant.

I didn't like it but I was stupid.

So on Thursday night, when the host mum approached me with the handbook of duties, I was initally happy.

I like guidelines. A system is always a system. Helps to maintain order in rowdiness.

But what I was told was to my utter horror.

I have to wash the toilet once every two weeks.

I have to vacuum the rugs in the kids' room twice every week.

I have to mop the kitchen floor every night and twice on a weekend.

I have to clean the mirrors and tap and basin in the bathroom every morning.

I have to vacuum the living room rug every night.

I have to tidy up the playroom every morning and make sure that the house is neat and tidy when the kids get home.

I have to make sure that the kids' room are clean and neat, which equates into cleaning up after the kids.

I have to wipe the tables clean after they eat.

I have to mop the playroom twice every week.

On top of all this, the laundry and the typical 'childcare' chores.

I have to get them breakfast.

I have to get them into the shower.

I have to dress them.

I have to brush their teeth twice a day.

I have to keep them entertained.

Wow!

My day starts at 630am from Monday to Friday.

It ends at 730pm.

Don't get me wrong though, I don't work the whole day.

But I tell you, the laundry and miscellaneous activities are enough to kill time.

I took the whole day to do their laundry. Only to have the host dad asking me, "what have you been doing the whole day?"

Well! I was partying!

I was skiving. I was sleeping on my bed.

I was snacking. I went to tour NYC!

I didn't even have time for a proper lunch that day.

And that night, I made up my mind.

...

When I first told people I was coming to USA to become an au pair, most people jeered at my decision.

9 out of 10 people tell me that I would be coming here to be a maid.

I was resolute that was not the case. I was determined to prove them wrong!

But maybe, maybe that is the partial truth.

Or maybe it was just me and my gullibility.

I take everything that is said for real. Because that is my principle, and I expect it to be the same with other people.

But then...I realize there will always be grey areas.

Grey areas which nobody can resolve.

And it is just my sheer bad luck to land myself in one of those patches.

...

My counselor asked me if I was really ok with the decision to go home.

Why should I not be?

What is at stake? My pride? Or the price of an air ticket?

My self-value? Or the label of being a quitter?

...I had thought I could pull it through seven months, so when the h0st mum asked if I could stay till the end of the month to kind of eased her situation, I was really contemplative about it.

She kind of asked it in a way such that maybe we could work something out and I may 'illegally' get to travel a little bit.

I was really thinking about that option.

Come on...I have been in NY for so long and I hadn't even been to a Broadway show.

I hadn't even gone to visit the Statue of Liberty yet!

I hadn't visited the Grand Canyon, or California!

I had done nothing, because I had believed I will stay to the end of my program.

I didn't prepare to quit. I was prepared to stick to the very end.

So when I thought about the whole situation...

I thought...

I really thought I could hang on.

But when I woke up this morning, physically and mentally exhausted,

and I stand right here writing to you with fuzzy thoughts because I am really fatigued,

and I think about the events of the day--

How I didn't get to eat my lunch because I was out wrestling with one of the kids to get him to eat and the parents were down there happily enjoying their meals,

How I had to keep the kids company when the host dad went to take a nap in the afternoon on the pretext of 'having some work to do',

How he keeps commanding me and ordering me about as if I were of a lower status (and he is Asian by the way: he is just American),

How he tells me 'it is not a big deal' for me to pay my whole bus trips when I go out and that the bus ticket is just for work,

How I am so physically exhaused I don't even have the mood or time to do dance or yoga even when I am in the city,

How he was sitting on the sofa relaxing and watching tv as I physically dragged the kid to the bathroom to shower (when I was told that 'there will always be someone around to help you; we always make sure we give you an extra pair of hands. And the funny thing is, my mum had questioned the validity of this and she is right! ha...)

How I have to wash the pots manually after dinner every night because the host mum just conveniently decides that she will dry the pots (and she said that 'we have this rule. Whoever doesn't cook has to wash up...and that person becomes me)

You know. I don't say much.

I don't usually fight for myself because I think I am pretty tolerant of many things.

But I figured I have had enough.

What is childcare?

Care for a child.

What does care mean?

...I don't know. I really don't know.

And you know what. I have decided that I do not want to find out.

...

I wrote my counselor two long emails.

I told her I accept the fact that I cannot deliver their expectations.

I told her I acknowledge the fact that I am not the au pair the program needs.

I told her I didn't come here to do the version of a maid back home.

I told her, maybe it was a cultural difference. And I accept that.

When the host mum called me up that Friday, she didn't tell me all that.

She only asked if I could swim. She only asked if I knew how to speak Mandarin.

She only said she wanted someone who could teach the kids more Mandarin and that someone who could enforce the same kind of discipline they were cultivating.

What did I see?

The kids still throw their tantrums.

"Oh, they are just four years old".

The kids still misbehaved.

"On, they act up once in a while".

Yeah, a high frequency for that to be classified as 'a while' for the four days I am here.

I thought it was a God-centered family.

But believe it or not, I can't feel God here.

Ironically, I feel estranged from God more than ever.

More than ever.

...

Is going home the best decision?

I don't know.

I just know I cannot stand it anymore.

I know I am crumbling.

Physically and mentally.

Maybe what the host mum said is true--the counselor told me to speak to the hosts and I did. The host mum said that she had not witnessed any love for children from me for the past few days.

Maybe she is right. Maybe I don't love children.

I have always thought I love children. Maybe I was wrong.

Like, I have always assumed childcare means care for the child.

Which means getting their meals ready, and their laundry done and all.

But I am wrong.

But really, it doesn't matter.

Just like it didn't matter what others thought about this decision to buy the air ticket home.

In fact, I was thinking to myself, it didn't even matter if R didn't support me (I kind of thought he wouldn't, but it turns out that he does support my decision) because I know deep down inside, that is something I need to do.

I have never stood up for what I believe in. And I think it is time that I do so.

...

So people...I will be back for my birthday this year ok.

Please date me out.

I will be waiting.

For your many presents.

And your presence.

And I will also be waiting.

With appreciation.

Thanks people. Thanks for being here with me.

It was a dream that failed to realize.

I came here thinking I would have all the time in the world to pursue what I believe in.

I failed.

But I tried.

=) And that is enough, right?

At least, I once believed that it was possible.

And I know I will still want to try to come back to this part of the world. Maybe to just learn dance for three months. Or just study Spanish for a month.

Well...the fact is,

Life is full of possibilities.

If you can try to take the first step to explore.