The Help (Part 2)

We currently live in a small apartment building/condominium type of place. It is a lot like many other apartment buildings that I've lived in over the years - but with one exception. We have a conserje (concierge) who lives in a small apartment on the first floor. His job is basically to be at everyone's beck and call. He helps us carry heavy items - groceries, suitcases, 50 lb. propane tanks, etc. - up and down the stairs. He fixes things that are broken. He sweeps and mops the hallways. He waters the plants. He washes everyone's cars. He'll even call you a cab if you ask him to.



When we first moved here the conserje job was held by a husband and wife team. They lived in their miniscule one-room apartment with their two young children. They had been there for years and did a great job of keeping everything ship-shape. The husband was in charge of the heavy lifting and the heavy cleaning. I would always feel sorry for him on rainy days because he would be stuck cleaning up and endless chain of muddy foot prints tracked in by people coming in from the muddy streets.



Several months ago the husband and wife team abruptly left. Apparently the husband had found a better opportunity elsewhere. They were quickly replaced by two new people - an older man and a young kid who is probably his grandson. We had been out of town when they moved in so they seemed a little surprised to see us when we arrived one evening and asked them to help carry our suitcases up to our apartment. The young guy was busy doing something so Lucho asked the older man to help us with our luggage. It was dark and neither of us noticed that he was actually quite old (not ancient, but definitely getting on in years). Lucho handed him a suitcase and asked him to take it up to our apartment. By the time he got to our place (we live on the fifth, and last, floor) the poor guy was wheezing so hard that we both felt really guilty. We told him that was enough and thanked him for his help. From now on we make sure to ask the young guy to do all the heavy lifting for us.



The new conserje team has settled into the job quickly, and they do a pretty good job at keeping things clean and seem to spend quite a bit of time "standing guard" near the front door of their apartment (which overlooks the main entrance to the building). At first I always felt like they were staring at me just a little too much. Maybe they did that to everyone, or maybe they were getting used to the fact that they had a gringa in their midst. At any rate, it made me feel uncomfortable and I wasn't sure if I liked these new guys very much. Over time they stopped staring at me so much, but that uncomfortable feeling remained.



It is probably obvious from my last post that I'm not very good at ordering people around or feeling comfortable when people serve me. And here in Ecuador I have found that often people working as maids or other household help-type of positions are just to "servile" for me. It makes me uncomfortable because I don't like being in a "superior" position, and also because I believe that few people in these types of positions actually believe in what they are doing. In fact, I'm pretty sure that they probably resent being stuck in a submissive role. However, even though I'm not comfortable with these situations, I have gotten used to them.



So the other day I was surprised when the older conserje guy chastised me for leaving the front door open. I wasn't expecting him to get mad at me - I mean, he's in charge of making sure the door stays closed, right? I tried to explain to him that it was an accident - I had left it open for someone else who I thought was coming out but he ended up going to his car - but it turns out that the guy is also hard of hearing too, so I'm not sure he heard me. Then last week I stepped in a big mud puddle when I was getting Christina into her school bus. When I started walking up the stairs the old guy pointed angrily at my muddy footprints and then asked me, in a not so nice tone of voice, to wipe my feet on the mat before I stepped on his clean floor. I was so surprised I had to laugh. But he was right, I should have wiped my feet on the mat first. He put me in my place. Maybe I like this guy after all.