By Chow Zhi Wei
I had previously heard of a campaign named ‘Text in the City’ that aimed to promote Singapore poetry, so when a friend, Hao Guang, was advertising a poetry-reading event at Kinokuniya (Orchard), I decided to go down to the bookstore for a visit. It was held on 6th October within the bookstore itself, and there were two other poets, Gwee Li Sui and Terrence Heng attending.
Having read Hao Guang’s poem ‘Joy’ on the QLRS before (http://www.qlrs.com/poem.asp?id=1122), it was a vastly different experience hearing it spoken out loud, in a Filipino accent, no less; Hao Guang may have chosen only the one poem for his poetry reading, but it was a well-chosen one. ‘Joy’ is written from the perspective of a Filipino domestic worker in Singapore, and deals with several issues such as the likelihood of the helper becoming the surrogate parent, as well as the thoughts and feelings that Joy herself has about her employment in a foreign country.
As opposed to simply being read, the poem cleverly and actively speaks in Joy’s stilted English as she describes her alienation from her other fellow domestic workers such as “Lisa” (who wears her employer’s clothes to Orchard Road) and “Vernie”, who makes “her face until so colourful”. The result is that Joy becomes distinct from the stereotypical domestic worker – for one, she eschews “Lucky Plaza”, the typical haunting-place of maids, electing to “go [to] Mass” instead – presenting to the reader, then, a perspective vastly different from that which we often typically, even stereotypically, ascribe to others like her.
Here, the prosaic rendering of her feelings not only layer on a greater sense of authenticity, but also belie a deeply emotional contemplation of her employment; in speaking for herself, Joy speaks for her fellow domestic workers as well, and this perspective is vastly important in a society where a sizeable proportion of Singaporeans employ maids in their households, and yet are often dis-inclined to see them as anything other than a subordinate entity hired to serve their needs. Indeed, that Joy is “too tired/ to be bored” hints at overworking, which, coupled with the hotly debated issue of granting off-days to domestic workers a couple of years ago, questions the fair treatment of domestic workers by their employers. Hao Guang’s aim, as he explained after his reading, was to encourage readers to consider their situations with greater empathy, and I believe that ‘Joy’ was a good poem to begin such a contemplation with.
That being said, I believe the highlight of the poem was really about how Joy ended up becoming a surrogate parent, of sorts, to “Meimei”, her employer’s child. Considering how some Singaporean children in families with domestic helpers are brought up more by their maids than their actual parents (especially when both parents are employed), we see how the pseudo-intimacy created out of prolonged exposure between Joy and Meimei leads to “life [being] difficult for everybody”, to the extent that the biological parent (“mum”) becomes alienated from even her own child (“she cannot make/ Meimei eat on my off day”).
Hao Guang’s depiction of the complex relationship between the employer and the employed is hence effective in asking a difficult question: how much should the domestic worker be treated as part of the family? While it is inevitable that bonds are formed (especially to undiscerning six-year olds with no concept of the power-relations between employer and employed), should they be allowed to? Indeed, the question seems to be left open; Joy explains in her responses to letters “I reply say I very happy”, but this only serves to further flesh out the lack of certitude regarding her employment. She can “say” that she is “happy”, but is she? After all, her rejection of Meimei is clear: “Don’t love me”.
To conclude, Hao Guang’s sole reading of ‘Joy’ at the Text in the City event is wonderfully apt in a society that often neglects to consider the role which domestic helpers play, in both the formation and cultivation of its families. Perhaps the only gripe I have was the fact that it was held in the public space of a bookstore as large as Kinokuniya. Hao Guang’s commendable effort at replicating the Filipino accent was hampered time and again by the squealing children (among other visitors) who distracted listeners. While I nevertheless still appreciate the apparent motivations of reaching out to unexposed members of the public, perhaps it could have been better for the event to have been conducted in a properly cordoned-off area of the bookstore.