“A l’Epoque,” as they say here, “we gave our houseboys food every week. After all, if you gave them money they would just waste it.” This system still survives in some households, but not ours. We, considering ourselves progressive, think it’s patronising to deprive the people right to choose how they want to spend their money.
Last year, when she who must be obeyed gave our maid – sorry, we must be pc, “household helper” – her Christmas bonus she was met with a thunderous boot face. “Where,” she said, “is my gratification?”
“And what,” my beloved demanded, “is a gratification?”
“Oh, some chickens, a sack of rice, sugar, tea and other things.”
How dare she ask for more than the very generous bonus we had given her? Within a second, a friendly and trusting relationship collapsed into fury and acrimony.
After some reflection, we thought it might be wise to find out what other people did. Yes, a gratification was, indeed, customary. So we reluctantly did the right thing and gave her what she wanted.
Forewarned is forearmed, and this year when we hear about an establishment which specialises in Christmas parcels we decide to investigate. It is in a remote industrial area, and once we’ve been let though massive unmarked steel gates into a warehouse compound we were shown to a small office which surprisingly has examples of local art on its walls. In front of us in the queue are some men clutching thousands of dollars, ordering their parcels by the hundreds.
The process reminds me of choosing Christmas Hampers from Fortnum and Mason, as there are more than forty different combinations to choose from, ranging in price from $10 to more than $100. We place our humble order of two and are told to come back on the 22nd.
These are no ordinary parcels – as the photo shows they are Santa sacks. They weigh a ton. As we hand them over we experience the same warmth that the lord of the manor must have felt when handing his peasants their annual sovereign.
But there are also two gardeners and six security guards. They don’t work for us, but we give them a little Christmas something.
We are out for several hours, and when we come back, one of the guards gives us a lovely bouquet of flowers, and our front door is flanked by two small vases and decorated with shrub cuttings. The next morning we get two Christmas cards: one from the guards and one from the gardeners.
God’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world. And our palm tree Christmas Tree is looking very pretty.
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