On New Year’s eve, while I am packing for an early move on Jan 1, my friend E— calls. Her Polish cleaner is all alone in Stockholm and wants to go see the traditional fireworks display at Skansen, but has nobody to go with. Would I go with her? “I’d rather not.”
My friend calls back 10 minutes later. Her voice is strained. “She really, really wants someone to go with her. She’s here with me now. Can she call you when she’s done working?” This brings out a measure of noblesse oblige in me. If I can stop this person from thinking suicidal thoughts on New Year’s eve just by taking her to Skansen, of course I will. Besides, I’ve never seen it myself. “She’s young and pretty and she speaks a little English,” assures E—.
Beata, we’ll name her, calls me. We agree to meet at Medborgarplatsen. It’s too early to go to Skansen, so I suggest we get a drink at Kvarnen. She appears shy, or maybe just quizzical? She’s not sure she’ll get into the bar. “Why not?” She’s only 19. But it’s too early for those rules, so we sit at the bar and I have some wine, while she has an orange juice, and the conversation begins, in halting English.
She is from Krakow. She has 4 brothers and a sister. She shares an apartment with 3 other Polish girls, all cleaners. They have the same boss, a Polish immigrant who hired them in Poland and is somewhat of a father-figure to them, having promised their parents to take good care of them. She works 6 days a week, 10-12 hours a day, in offices and in the homes of Swedes. She worked on Christmas and will work on New Year’s day. She goes to church on Sundays — there are 2 Polish churches in Stockholm. She doesn’t have a computer, internet access or even an email address, and neither do any of her friends — but they do SMS each other. She has no plans to go to university but she wants to have three children. And she likes to cook. Polish food.
She doesn’t like Swedes — they ignore her when she works for themBe nice to your cleaners, Swedes!. She does like Americans, however. The ones she works for, like my friend E—, talk to her like she is a normal person.
The next day, I will discuss this with E—’s husband, a Swede. He thinks the reason is twofold. First, Swedes are naturally more restrained. Second, domestic help is a relatively new phenomenon in Sweden, after having disappeared for half a century. Swedes will tend to see this kind of work as demeaning, goes his theory, and hence they will feel ashamed on behalf of the help. Americans, on the other hand, see an enterprising young Pole taking deft advantage of economic opportunities abroad and who is willing to work hard to make her dreams come true. And Beata does have a dream: With her savings, she wants to go to Italy next year, for the first time. She’s already taking Italian lessons at a language school here in Stockholm, in return for her cleaning services.
We walk all the way to Skansen. As we approach the gate, I ask her, offhand, what made her want to see this. After all, even Swedes think twice about spending hours outside in the bitter cold. “But you wanted to, E— said.” “No, you did, she said.” Two pennies drop. We’ve been trying to save each other’s soulsThe next day, E— comes clean, and all is forgiven. Nevertheless, I make a mental note to set her up with Henry Kissinger sometime.. The nerve! But it’s hard to be angry; Beata and I are having fun, and it is a typical E— thing to do. At midnight, under the fireworks, we share a bottle of champagne — all courtesy of a fortunate ruse. Later, she will be delivered home, chastely.
i’m sure it really went like this: “At midnight, under the fireworks, we share a bottle of champagne — all courtesy of a fortunate ruse. Later, she will be delivered home, chastely — because my abrupt, jerky attempt to snog her during the champagne failed. She just laughed, called her roommates at home and jabbered something in Polish, after which the noise of them all laughing leaked, tinnily, out of her handset.”
Ah, Eurof, how I wish you’d been there.
Polish cleaner, eh? Furniture polish cleaner?
I still don’t get this “fortunate ruse” thing. Where did the bubbles come from?
I know. If only English were more like mathematics: Then I could write “Fortunate ruse => (evening out at skansen U champagne bought on location U fireworks)”
perhaps “a fortunate ruse” should read “this night’s fortunate ruse”.
Reminiscent of the bit in “Love, Actually” in which Colin Firth falls for his Portuguese housekeeper. Er, not really, actually. God I hated that movie. Took the girlfriend over the weekend. That’s points on St. Peter’s book for me, I tell you.
Stefan, E knew that you had promised never to date 20 year old guestworkers anymore. She didn’t realise that it applied to 19 year olds too.
Plus, you left out the part about the “sausages”. Typical. I’m not the guilty one you know.
OK. No euphamisms allowed. What’s with the ‘sausages?’
If I come and visit, will you take me to Skansen too???
That depends on your cleaning skills.
Come on Jame, it wasn’t THAT bad. I loved the line from the burnt out rocker “Kids, don’t buy drugs.. Become a rock star and people will give them to you for free…”
I disagree with E’s husband (let us call him JA, for that is what he said at the altar). Domestic help, like children, should be seen rarely and heard not at all. Swedes are acting most correctly. Unlike Stefan, who doubtless tried to make unwanted advances on the poor girl, as suggested by ‘Eurof’.