After my parents left Alaska, their next stop was in the East. Specifically, they were based in the Philippines. They chose to live off base to learn the culture and to enjoy a little more of the local people up close. The military pay in the 1960’s wasn’t that great, but in the Philippines, it went a lot further than it did in Alaska. My mom went to work as a teacher for the Department of Defense while there which also provided a little more cash flow for them. As a result, they felt the freedom to hire a housekeeper for the first (and only) time in their lives. They enjoyed coming home to a clean house with dishes washed and an empty laundry basket every day. I’d like that too.
I remember playing with the Filipino children in the neighborhood and I was happy. My best friend was a little Filipino boy named Robbie. Of course, there was the occasional python scare. The locals were good at spotting them and rounding the children up to go inside. My parents were a little troubled by those events, but I think it was a lot like tornadoes in Oklahoma. They are there, you learn what to do and you deal with it.
They really enjoyed the person and personality of the housekeeper. She was a sweet local girl (we’ll call her Naomi to protect the innocent) who aimed to please them and was apparently very protective of me as a two year old. The first sign of any trouble with the housekeeper arrangement showed up slowly. They noticed their clothes were wearing out fast. In fact, they noticed their clothes seemed to thin out and then rip or shred. This was not the way that they usually lost clothes. Again, this wasn’t obvious at first, but it happened a few too many times and they realized something in the clothes washing process was breaking down. So, they asked a few questions, but Naomi’s English was limited and there were some cultural differences that prevented her from being able to accurately understand the nature of their questions. She was apparently concerned with making sure they knew she was working hard for them. They knew that, and didn’t want to offend her, so they watched and asked questions of neighbors carefully. In time, the problem came to light.
Naomi washed the clothes very thoroughly. Her care and effort showed as the clothes were very clean. What my parents discovered was that the washing machine wasn’t being used. The clothes were being washed in the local river. That really didn’t bother them at all. The problem wasn’t the river. It was the cleaning process. She washed the clothes by pounding each item between rocks in the river. This was the traditional village washing process. It was thorough, but it definitely wore out their clothes really quickly.
So, after the discovery, and with a little help from a local who could translate better, they taught Naomi about the joy of electric washing machines. Naomi liked it once she understood what it was. She understood that it saved her time. The problem solved and my parent’s clothes went back to a more familiar rate of break down. Naomi stayed with them for the approximately two plus years they were there and was very close and dear to them.