Cleaning Lady

This entry is about three weeks old, FYI.

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I’ve recently taken on a new job, my friends. I am now, a couple days a week, cleaning a nearby motel.

WHAT?!

Okay, let’s calm ourselves. I know it’s a bit unbelievable. But it’s true!

Here in Akaroa, one of the easiest ways to pick up a bit of extra cash is through cleaning. There are dozens of motels, hotels, hostels, bed and breakfasts, and serviced apartments, and, well, they all need to be cleaned.

My friend Celine (one of the Frenchies who works at the restaurant) has been cleaning part-time since here arrival in Akaroa two months ago. She has one regular job at a B&B, and then she picks up another few hours here and there at Mark and Wendy’s B&B (that’s Steve’s parents).

If you had asked me before if I would ever (EVER!) clean a motel out of need for money, I am sure I would have told you no. EW! But, Celine made this whole cleaning thing sound a bit nicer. A bit more dignified. The B&B, she said, is always spotless! The guests are so clean already, she said. I barely have to clean at all! Of course, she does clean it all over anyway. Because that’s what cleaning people do!

So. The newest schedule at Vangioni’s was leaving me with about 30 hours of work per week. Not terrible, but…when you are trying to save up money to go traveling in February, 30 hours per week feels pretty darn lazy, especially on those days when you’re off, your boyfriend’s diligently putting in his 40 hours, and you have, well, NOTHING to do.

I considered getting a “real” second job, like at a café or something. But that felt like a bit too much, considering that my hours at the restaurant will probably pick up significantly in December, as the tourist season here gets underway.

So I thought the cleaning thing over. How bad can it be? I thought. Even if it IS really bad, it’s only for a couple hours a day. What is so bad that I can’t do for TWO HOURS?

(Furthermore, as my dad pointed out with a rather mischievous snicker, I might learn some very valuable skills!)

And so, after seeing an ad for a cleaner in the local paper, I marched myself over to the hiring motel and inquired. Ten minutes later, I walked out a cleaning lady. I would return two days later at 10 AM to begin my first cleaning session.

And truthfully, this is not so bad.

I will go ahead and say that being a full-time cleaning lady could potentially be awful. It’s very physically exhausting work, and, depending on who you’re cleaning up after, it could be rather soul crushing work…and it could be gross.

But, La Rive Motel, MY motel, is a very nice establishment. Not SUPER nice, but nice enough. The kind of place I’d probably find myself staying if I were splurging on a motel. There are only ten rooms, and usually, only half of those need cleaning, since people are checking out of the rooms on different days.

I work with Fran, a New Zealander, probably around my age, who, well, to be honest, seems more like the cleaning type. (Don’t hate me for saying that, but…! What am I supposed to say?) She lives at the motel and cleans for them every morning. (probably in exchange for free accommodation, though I’m not sure.) In our “getting to know you” conversation, she asked me if I watched some local soap, to which I responded No, I don’t really watch any TV here. Our TV only picks up one channel, and it’s mostly crap.

You can’t get much TV?! she replied in horror. (REALLY, my friends, she was horrified.) How awful! she said.

So my cleaning partner and I don’t have much to talk about, I guess, since I can’t talk the soaps, and that is really probably the worst part of the job - having to work with someone that you don’t much feel like talking to but working so closely that you feel obligated to TALK about SOMETHING.

We make the beds. Bottom sheet, top sheet, fleece blanket, duvets, pillows. We fold the towels and washcloths into pretty shapes and leave them arranged on the bed with little travel soaps and shampoos. We clean the bathroom, which implies everything you think it does (toilets, showers, sinks). We clean the kitchen, do any dirty dishes guests have left behind, re-stock the coffees and teas. We empty the trash, we mop the floors, we polish the wood furniture.

And we vacuum. And if you don’t know from personal experience, VACUUMING IS THE WORST THING EVER. Please, please, let me do the bathrooms! Just don’t make me vacuum!!

And then we’re done. And we move on to the next room.

It’s mindless, really. And it’s cash in hand. It gives me something to do, makes me feel purposeful. It’s cleaning. Boring, boring cleaning. But, dad may have been right. I am probably learning some very useful skills.

You know, I am all about feminism. I think it’s great stuff. We all should have equal rights and whatnot. But, I have realized that one thing that is getting lost in everyone’s (both men’s and women’s) working so hard away from home is homemaking. At the ole Harpeth Hall, no way in hell were they going to offer us home economics! That’s not what our parents were spending gobs of money for us to grow up to do! The whole point of going to schools like Harpeth Hall is to educate yourself out of the nitty gritty work. But I think I am not alone as a young person when I say, I wish I had JUST SOME homemaking skills.

But still, cleaning is cleaning. Nobody WANTS to do it for themselves. And if I could pay someone else to do my cleaning, I probably would. And yet! There is something nice about cleaning. Working hard and seeing the results of that work.

I have decided that this trip might just be about trying all of these things. Just to be able to say that I have cleaned, I have waitressed. Just to be able to feel CERTAIN when I am moaning about how miserable it is to be sitting at a desk in a lovely-smelling, air-conditioned office, that life isn’t much better on the other side. I just need to figure these things out for myself. That’s just who I am, I guess.

Okay, must run now. All’s well here, otherwise. Bjorn is well, and I am well, and WE are well. Hope you are, too. Much love.