"I think I am racist" my mother announced, after a short discussion of the chances of Barak Obama becoming U.S. President. But, at the back of her mind was Maria, the 38 year-old dark-skinned Phillipino nurse who is cooking, nursing and cleaning for her and living in the guest bedroom.
It is hard for my mum, who has not shared her living space with another adult since the au pair returned to Das Haag in 1952 (my father having left several years earleir). She accepts now (aged 92) that she is too physically weak ever to live on her own again. And over the weeks her behind-the-back rages against Maria have become ever-so-slightly less venemous, and blunted by grudging admiration for her intelligence, and ability to cook to her precise instructions.
Intelligence is a quality my mother puts great emphasis on. She is always very condescending towards those she regards as dim witted. Even me sometimes.
The quality she hates most in Maria is her forthrightness - which happens to be a charactersitic she has always been proud of in herself, as an ex-northerner. Maria does sometimes seem a bit fierce, but I think that's partly because she is short sighted.
"I think an Englishman would have a great shock if he married her," my mother opines.
"Is Maria thinking of getting married?"
"You know how some Englishman advertise for Asian brides to have an acquiescent wife? She wouldn't be like that at all." This, mum implies in her tone, is definite failure in her nurse-and-cook's character.
"Serve the bastards right," I say in so many words.
My mother isn't listening. "Have you put the kettle on for tea, dear?"
