"The Help" Gets Personal

I wrote a post recently about the grave problems "The Help" face in the Middle East. These women--most of them from the Philippines and Sri Lanka--frequently face exploitation, abuse, and even slavery. Because their employers have absolute authority over fate, many women get trapped in these situations and can't get out.

The issue has become personal for me over the past two weeks. As I mentioned in my previous post, my wife and I hired a Filipino woman to babysit a few hours each day while we go to class or study. A few months ago she ran away from an exploitative situation. Her employer frequently worked her from 4:00 am until 11:00 pm. She was hired as a home maid, but her employer also forced her to clean/maintain two dormitories and sometimes made her work in his factory. In Jordan it is the employer's responsibility to purchase a plane ticket home for his domestic worker at the end of her service, but this man started withholding her wages (around $300/month) to pay for the ticket. After two months with no wages, she ran away. A friend introduced her to some Americans, and they introduced her to us.

My wife and I were only looking for a part-time babysitter, but now that our lives have intersected, we're the only ones who can break her out of a situation that amounts to slavery. Her previous employer is furious that she ran away and wants her to come back; she is terrified and is hiding from him. Her residency expired last month, so she is accruing daily fines that she can't afford to pay (I mentioned in my previous post that an estimated 14,000 women are trapped in Jordan because of this problem). Only a domestic worker's employer can renew her residency, so her future is in the hands of the man who exploited her. The only way out is if he agrees to write a "letter of release" and transfers her sponsorship to me.

I spent two days this week learning about the byzantine world of government ministries. I started my quest at Amman's Ministry of Labor, where I hoped I could explain the situation and transfer the sponsorship without a letter of release from the previous employer. After a confusing conversation in broken Arabic I learned that I needed to go to the other Ministry of Labor across town. An employee there directed me to the section manager, who reviewed my babysitter's documents and informed me they were from Irbid--a city two hours to the north. She couldn't do anything for me; I needed to go the Ministry of Labor in Irbid. My wife and I were planning to visit Irbid anyway, so on Sunday we made a daytrip out of it and brought along a good Arab friend. I hung back while my friend darted in and out of at least five offices, pushing his way through the crowds huddled around each desk to get his turn. He argued at length, but every answer was the same: there is nothing they can do unless the employer releases her.

I finally had to do something I'd been dreading: call the previous employer. He was cordial enough to me but he was obviously angry at her and said he has no intention of signing a release letter. So that's where things stand. I'm planning to call him again and try one more time. Right now I'm gathering more information, figuring out where I have leverage and planning how to negotiate with him. It's no fun at all. My wife reminds me that I am studying International Conflict Resolution; resolving this situation is probably a good beginner's exercise.