{"id":8795,"date":"2022-06-15T09:53:14","date_gmt":"2022-06-15T07:53:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/?p=8795"},"modified":"2022-12-25T11:38:46","modified_gmt":"2022-12-25T09:38:46","slug":"barrak-alzaid-pink-and-blue","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/barrak-alzaid-pink-and-blue\/","title":{"rendered":"Barrak Alzaid: &#8220;Pink and Blue&#8221;"},"content":{"rendered":"<figure id=\"attachment_9042\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-9042\" style=\"width: 976px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"http:\/\/www.loumarabah.com\/houses.html\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-9042 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/06\/Louma-Rabah-Lets-Get-Lost-in-Nature-acrylic-on-canvas-130x100cm-2020.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"976\" height=\"800\" srcset=\"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/06\/Louma-Rabah-Lets-Get-Lost-in-Nature-acrylic-on-canvas-130x100cm-2020.jpg 976w, https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/06\/Louma-Rabah-Lets-Get-Lost-in-Nature-acrylic-on-canvas-130x100cm-2020-600x492.jpg 600w, https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/06\/Louma-Rabah-Lets-Get-Lost-in-Nature-acrylic-on-canvas-130x100cm-2020-300x246.jpg 300w, https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/06\/Louma-Rabah-Lets-Get-Lost-in-Nature-acrylic-on-canvas-130x100cm-2020-768x630.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 976px) 100vw, 976px\" \/><\/a><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-9042\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Louma Rabah, acrylic on canvas &#8211; 130x100cm, 2020 (courtesy <a href=\"http:\/\/www.loumarabah.com\/houses.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Louma Rabah<\/a>).<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>At a mall in Kuwait, I watched two Filipina domestic workers seated at a bench, laughing, sharing an intimate moment. Their pink and blue uniforms stood out in a drab sea of white dishdashas and black abayas. <\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4>Barrak Alzaid<\/h4>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Muzak was the background track to the chatter of Hindi, Arabic and Tagalog weaving through the mall. My paper shopping bags thumped against my thighs, pouring over with fast fashion. I needed to beat the surge of traffic that would inch its way to the mosque as soon as the call to prayer rang through. Instead, I stood in wonder at the laughter that cleaved the din, a pair of Filipina women dressed in pink and blue scrubs with their heads thrown back and their mouths open, a picture of exquisite joy.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p>\u201cHay nako,\u201d Carmella mutters and shifts her weight on the bench, reaching for her phone. Fingers worry at the volume button. It pings. She clasps Mary Rose\u2019s hand, and her pastel pink uniform presses against her friend\u2019s baby blue sleeve.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cLook,\u201d says Mary Rose. \u201cWe are like Easter eggs, perfect for today.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She points at a large Styrofoam rabbit grasping a basket of pastel foam eggs. A swarm of children take selfies, girls with thin wrists covered in bangles alongside girls swaddled in hijabs. Carmella sucks a breath in and pulls her upper lip taut across her teeth. She rubs her phone until it wakes, revealing a portrait of two girls and a young woman. Carmella cradles the phone and releases a sigh.<\/p>\n<p>Mary Rose wants her friend to smile, shrug it off and say <em>eh, sa ganun malaga aug taboo ng buhay.<\/em> <em>That\u2019s how life goes<\/em>. To move on with the daily grind as Filipinas do.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMy friend listen. There will be an opportunity next year, eh diba?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Carmella taps the lock button on and off. Click. Family. Click. Clock. Click. Family. Click. Clock.<\/p>\n<p>She squeezes her eyes shut and presses a fist to her forehead, \u201cI waited two years to visit them. Madam promised I could return for Christmas. Madam said they would not travel, but sir surprised her with a holiday.\u201d\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\n<p>The plunking Muzak pipes in from grainy speakers. Their voices are still warm from singing hymns so Mary Rose pantomimes a microphone and sings along to Celine Dion.<\/p>\n<p>The call to prayer cuts the song off, one diva upstaging another. A signal that they have fifteen minutes until their employers\u2019 drivers complete their prayers. Carmella hums the rest of the song even as the muezzin drones on and on. Mary Rose protests, but Carmella ignores her, then nuzzles into her friend\u2019s shoulder to mask her giggling.\u00a0<\/p>\n<p>\u201cYou will see your family.\u201d Mary Rose rubs her friend\u2019s back, \u201cRemember we have our duties. It is good to support our children\u2019s education, to support our parents.\u201d She pauses as a draft of air conditioning sweeps the warmth from her voice, \u201cIf there was a stable job in the Philippines, I could go back. Bong will start college this year and he will work less. My children need me to send money back.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Carmella cracks her knuckles one by one and kneads her palms together. She tries steadying her voice but it rises sharply, \u201cYou raised your children already, and then you came here. I left my children with my sister when they were very young.\u201d Carmella points at her phone screen. \u201cSee? Here is my sister and my daughters. I pay for school, I pay for clothes. But I am not their mother. To them I am like a big sister.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAyah Carmella! You are always their mother, don\u2019t make them worry.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cOf course I don\u2019t tell them my worries.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mary Rose nods. \u201cRemember, I always tell you, it is good you are with a family that speaks English. When I came here six years ago my agency put me with a family that only spoke Arabic. They thought I am ungas\u2013ignorant. Always shouting, shouting. Shouting at each other, shouting at me. Madam always fixing the hijab they made me wear.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Carmella\u2019s lips pucker and she swears, \u201c<em>Pucha putang ina!<\/em> You always tell me the same thing!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Mary Rose shakes her head as if sifting those memories back into the past. \u201cListen to me. Our madams respect us and our sirs do not harass us. Look at Isabella. After she was trapped inside the house for two weeks she ran away and hid in the desert until the embassy rescued her. Like a spy movie.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Carmella loosens the phone from Mary Rose\u2019s grip. \u201cLook, I\u2019ll show you another spy movie.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She pays for her own phone line, and can only afford local calls and texts. When she wants to call her family she uses the driver\u2019s phone and pays him back for the data, so it takes a few attempts to connect to the mall wifi and the jingling mall music returns. Five minutes to pick up.<\/p>\n<p>A tall concrete house emerges on the tiny screen. It could have been any house in any neighborhood across the country. A Filipino and Filipina dart out a side door. The woman looks at the camera, her brow furrowed, eyes squinting in the sun, and shuffles across the courtyard in sandals and socks. The man\u2019s mirrored Oakleys bounce off his chest and he drags a small suitcase. The camera follows them into a dark tinted car. Once inside, light sobs rack the woman\u2019s shoulders.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAyah, I\u2019ve seen this video, everyone is sharing it.\u201d Mary Rose\u2019s eyes are shiny and her smile stretches thin across her face. \u201cThe embassy arranged this escape, and they posted this video to give awareness of the situation. But they got into trouble with this country\u2019s government.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cMission Impossible, na?\u201d Carmella deletes the browsing history. \u201cI have to be careful, madam and sir check my phone, I don\u2019t want them to think I want to escape like this lady.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>They sit still, shoulders press against each other, fingers braid together and start to laugh. They laugh when their phones buzz in unison. They stand and embrace, still laughing, their blue and pink forms eclipsed almost immediately by the swirl of black abayas and white dishdashas weaving past them into the shops.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A young storyteller in Kuwait is captivated by the lives of Filipina women he does not know.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":260,"featured_media":9042,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[12,24,71,50],"tags":[96,524,797,896,1007,1082,1162,1541],"article-category":[],"article-type":[],"coauthors":[1909],"class_list":["post-8795","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-essay","category-review","category-tmr-22-stories","category-tmr-issues","tag-abayas","tag-disdashas","tag-hijab","tag-islam","tag-kuwait","tag-malls","tag-mosque","tag-servants"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.5 (Yoast SEO v27.3) - 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