'Twelve rooms and no view of tomorrow'
The smell of bleach mingles with the clammy heat of the hallway. Yui drags her cloth once more along the edge of the mirror, where a stain of dried toothpaste foam continues to stare back at her. “They’re brushing their teeth like wild dogs,” she mutters, half to herself, half to her colleague next to her.
Nok laughs briefly and dryly, without really looking up from the bedclothes she is pulling taut. “At least wild dogs eat what they catch. They don’t have buffets where they leave everything.” Her fingers glide over the wrinkles in the sheet, precisely, almost obsessively. She works at a speed as if she were in a race, but with a precision that betrays the fact that she has been working here too long.
“How many rooms today?” Yui asks, but already knows the answer. She feels it in her back, her legs, in the nagging protest of her fingers.
“Twelve,” Nok says shortly, without taking her eyes off the sheets. “And if we don’t hurry, there won’t be anything left for lunch.”
Yui nods, but something is bubbling in her head. Not anger—that has long since drained away, somewhere between the first and hundredth time she’s been ignored by a manager. No, it’s more of a wry, calm acceptance. “Do you think these guys ever think about what it feels like to leave their trash behind? About who’s going to clean it up?”
Nok sighs deeply and finally looks at her. “Do you think they care? They come for vacation. Sunbathing. Taking pictures of their Pad Thai to post, like they know what that means.”
“Yes,” Yui says bitterly. “And we eat rice with fish sauce. On a good day.” Her voice trembles for a moment, but she recovers. As melancholic as ever. “Prices are going up. My mother complains that oil has even become more expensive. And me? I clean their mirrors and scrub their toilets for the same salary as ten years ago.”
Nok gives her a sharp look. “What do you want? Run away? No work, no money. No money, no food. You don’t think Bangkok is waiting for us with open arms, do you? That city eats people like us up and spits us out in slums.”
It’s a harsh truth, and Yui knows Nok is right. But somewhere, deep inside, something is gnawing at her. A desire for more, not even more money, but more dignity. “I wonder how much longer we can keep this up. How many rooms can you clean before you break?”
Nok stares at her, silent for a moment. Then she shrugs. “Until we can’t anymore. Until we have no choice. That’s how it works, Yui. You know that.”
Yui wants to say something, something biting, but she stops herself. Her gaze wanders to the windows of the room. The air is hazy with heat and outside the scooters seem to fly across the street like mad locusts. Symbolic, she thinks. Always moving, never stopping, because stopping means falling.
She turns and walks to the bathroom, where the next mirror awaits her. The pungent smell of cleaning fluid fills her nostrils, but she inhales deeply. What else can you do but keep breathing?
“Do you think it will ever change?” she asks, her voice softer now, almost a whisper.
Nok is silent for a moment, as if she is seriously considering the question. Then she shakes her head and laughs, a sharp, empty laugh. “No. But dreaming is free. For now, that is…”
About this blogger
-
My age officially falls into the category of 'elderly'. I've been living in Thailand for 28 years - try to do that. The Netherlands used to be paradise, but it fell into disrepair. So I went looking for a new paradise and found Siam. Or was it the other way around and Siam found me? Either way, we were good-natured.
ICT provided a regular income, something you call 'work', but for me it was mainly a pastime. Writing, that's the real hobby. For Thailandblog I'm picking up that old love again, because after 15 years of hard work you deserve some reading material.
I started in Phuket, moved to Ubon Ratchathani, and after a stopover in Pattaya I now live somewhere in the north, in the middle of nature. Rest never rusts, I always say, and that turns out to be true. Here, surrounded by greenery, time seems to stand still, but fortunately life doesn't.
Eating, especially lots of it – that’s my passion. And what makes an evening complete? A good glass of whisky and a cigar. That’s about it, I think. Cheers!
Photos, I don't do that. I always look ugly in them, even though I know Brad Pitt pales in comparison. It must be the photographer, I think.
Read the latest articles here
CultureJanuary 19 2025'Miles away from bitterballen and Dutch chatter'
Living in ThailandJanuary 17 2025'Organized chaos: an ode to the Thai tangle'
CultureJanuary 15 2025'The Mystique of Thai Women'
CultureJanuary 13 2025'Bangkok traffic is dancing with chaos'
Indeed FKN,
We call this work a dog's job, but it is a good thing that these ladies want to do the work to ensure that our overnight stays are as clean and pleasant as possible.
Whenever I enter a hotel room somewhere, I first try to find out who cleaned my room. I give them a tip in advance and thank them for the tidy room and the swan-folded bath towels. Then they have a face for the tip that I leave on the pillow every day.
Indeed Pear,
I once had a long relationship in the Netherlands with an African beauty who worked as a cleaner before she finished her university education. Whenever we stayed in a hotel somewhere, she always left a generous tip in the room. 'For the cleaners' she said when she saw my surprised face. And it works both ways; as soon as I arrive (monthly) in my regular hotel in Lat Krabang (Bangkok), I am welcomed with all friendliness!
Suphan Lake Hometel
I recognize that story all too well, I know someone who also works in a hotel as a receptionist, but her boss also lets her work as a maid when it suits her, it has even gotten to the point where she has to work from 07 in the morning until 20:30 and the overtime is paid XNUMX baht per hour. Simply scandalous.
The paradise of the rich is built on the hell of the poor. It always has been and always will be. Where your cradle stands determines your future (largely).
Well, it's not much different in the Netherlands, except that the salary is better of course, because when my Thai wife came to the Netherlands she also worked in hotel cleaning until the corona period.
First at Van der Valk, but I took her away from there after 3 days. That cleaning company gave you 20 minutes per room, regardless of how dirty it was, so 10 rooms was 200 minutes, if she took 300 minutes, those 100 minutes were not paid.
Then at another hotel and another cleaning company, everything was paid there but it was very hard work, starting at different times every day, depending on the check-outs and never knowing when you were finished.
She now works as a cleaner in a hospital where the appreciation for the work is really very high, and with fixed working hours, it is much better than in hotel cleaning.
That's why when we stay in a hotel in Thailand we keep the room clean ourselves and give the cleaning lady a big tip every day, because we know how hard and underpaid the work is, but I don't understand why people make such a mess of it, they're just antisocial.
No work, no money, no money, no food. The harsh reality, no more respect for others.
During our last visit to Bangkok (to arrange some documents) we also spent 4 nights in a hotel. It turned out that the cleaning lady of the rooms came from a village near us.
Sad to hear how some people dare to leave their room behind. In my opinion it says a lot about the upbringing of those who do this. It is a small effort to make sure that your rubbish is in the bin, your used towels together in one place, put the remote control of the TV and air conditioning together and that all your rubbish is gone. You do that at home too, Tip I always do that too and also try to have a chat if possible. Just out of respect.