<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcEQn47eCp7ImA9WhVTF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142</id><updated>2012-03-03T06:33:23.000+04:00</updated><title>True life story of Filipina Maid in Dubai</title><subtitle type="html">My name is Sally. I am living past few years as housemaid in Dubai. I using my maam computer when she not at home. My friend she show me how use blog. She clever she know computer.
My maam not know I write about my work and my life. Please do not tell her **</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>114</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/Dubaisally" /><feedburner:info uri="dubaisally" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEcEQn46cSp7ImA9WhVTF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-8916280714299409951</id><published>2012-03-03T06:33:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2012-03-03T06:33:23.019+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-03-03T06:33:23.019+04:00</app:edited><title>closet story</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Few week back I am reading in the paper that this sir is finding the maid is doing affair with driver. How he find it out is so funny. He find the driver hiding inside the closet in maid room in the middle of the night. Imagine. I not know who is more shock. The sir or the driver or the maid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday I am reading another story in paper. There is this maam. She is thinking that her housemaid is a man. Because the maam is finding only mans underwears in the maids bag. No girls underwears. I am thinking maybe this maid like to wear mans underwear? Maybe the maam is right that the maid is a man but finding mans underwear is not proof.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There is only one way to prove if this underwear maid is man or girl. Not by seeing her underwear. but by seeing what is under the underwear. But there is a problem. This underwear maid is already deport. So now only the underwear maid knows if she is a man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Full day yesterday I am thinking of this underwear maid. Maybe she like to wear mans clothes. Sometime girls like to dress like man. Sometime man like to dress like girl. I know one boy like that in Philippine. Ben. He is a gay. sometime he like to dress like girl. It is not a bad thing. He is just different than me. but he is not doing anything wrong.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In Dubai if you are a gay you can go to jail. Some month ago I tell maam about my friend Ben. Maam tell me it better he not come to Dubai. Or if he come to Dubai he better stay inside the closet. I ask her what she mean. She explain me that when a gay is tell the world that he is gay it is called come out of closet.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;These two newspaper story make me think of this sentence of maam. To come out of the closet. I think that next time the driver better stay out of the maids closet. And next time the underwear maid better lock her underwear inside the closet.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-8916280714299409951?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/cY-Vi8mvXuA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/8916280714299409951/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/03/closet-story.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/8916280714299409951?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/8916280714299409951?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/cY-Vi8mvXuA/closet-story.html" title="closet story" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/03/closet-story.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEDRno7eSp7ImA9WhVTFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-1741518193165320877</id><published>2012-02-29T18:31:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2012-03-01T03:37:57.401+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-03-01T03:37:57.401+04:00</app:edited><title>one more day</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;There are so many days when I feel like I have so much work. like my work is not get over. I feel like if I have maybe 1 or 2 more hours I can do so many more things. Even if I finish my work maybe I can do my blog. Or I can go to park. Sometimes I wish I have extra hours in my day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today I am getting a full day of extra hours. Because today is Feb 29. It is like this extra day. One more day between feb and march.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When I am getting up in the morning it is so foggy outside. Sir is telling maam drive carefully in fog. He say there are mad men on the road in Dubai. who drive fast even when there is fog.&amp;nbsp;Maam say to sir why you not drop children to school today? She say I feeling nervous to drive in this weather. Maam no liking to drive. She take any excuse to make sir drive. Sir also feel worry when maam drive. So today he take children to school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When they leave the house maam is going driving. in fog. to gym. She say Sally when children are in car I feel nervous. But if I go by myself then it ok. I have little bit extra time today. If I go early maybe the machine in gym is not so busy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Every one like extra time. Maam like extra time at gym. I like extra day like today.&amp;nbsp;My one extra day is nearly over. I still have not finish all the thing I want to do. Now I have to wait four more years for this extra day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Or I can thank God that I am having an extra day. Every day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-1741518193165320877?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/_CZqDbTfamg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/1741518193165320877/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/one-more-day.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/1741518193165320877?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/1741518193165320877?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/_CZqDbTfamg/one-more-day.html" title="one more day" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/one-more-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUINR306eSp7ImA9WhVTE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-5955703134986651793</id><published>2012-02-28T06:48:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2012-02-28T06:53:16.311+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-28T06:53:16.311+04:00</app:edited><title>tree in the storm</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Two days back there is a big storm in Dubai. So much sand. So much wind. I think that the trees outside our house is going to fall down. The trees are moving with the wind. Bending so much. I hope it not fall down on top of the house. The storm is going away. But this bending tree is make me remember a story my grandmother tell me when I am small. I tell you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;There is a very big mango tree. It is very strong. And there is a lampakanai. It is like a very long grass that grow near the water.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;In my home country we make basket from this grass. And sometimes even we make chair from this grass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;In the story the mango tree is boasting too much. It is so proud. It say I am so strong. I am so tall. Everyone is loving my tasty fruit. Nothing is able to break me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;The lampakanai say I am also strong. I am also useful. People use me to make baskets. &amp;nbsp;The mango tree is laughing at the lampakanai. One day there is a big storm. Lot of wind is coming.&amp;nbsp;The mango tree is falling down.&amp;nbsp;The lampakanai is bending with the wind. The wind is blowing more hard. The lampakanai is bending more. But it is not breaking. After the storm the strong mango tree is dead. the weak lampakanai is alive.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;When she tell me this story I am thinking why she tell me this story? I am so young. not mature like today. I am not understanding the story.&amp;nbsp;I tell my grandmother I want to be the mango tree. I want to be strong and proud. not weak and bending. I want to be the mango.&amp;nbsp;not the empty lampakanai basket. Because the mango is so tasty. and the basket has nothing inside it. &amp;nbsp;My grandmother say Sally the empty basket is better than the tasty mango. Because it can carry the weight of many mango. But I still do not understand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;Now&amp;nbsp;I remember what she say. And I understand. that she want me to bend in the storm. That there are so many different storms that will come in my life. That it is easy to be strong and proud like the mango tree with so tasty fruit. But no fruit will grow if the mango tree is dead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It is better to be the lampakanai. Because I will not break with the wind. Because I can fill the empty basket with so many things. with stories. of my life. But I cannot do that if I cannot stand in a storm. I have to bend with the wind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-5955703134986651793?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/pt3u7sJyIl4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/5955703134986651793/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/tree-in-storm.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5955703134986651793?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5955703134986651793?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/pt3u7sJyIl4/tree-in-storm.html" title="tree in the storm" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/tree-in-storm.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMMQXk8cSp7ImA9WhRaF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-3795431348445244004</id><published>2012-02-14T18:25:00.004+04:00</published><updated>2012-02-20T18:18:00.779+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-20T18:18:00.779+04:00</app:edited><title>love bird</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today is valentines day. I am alone. again. But it is ok. I know there is someone for me. like my friend &amp;nbsp;Alma. She and her boyfriend are like two love bird. Full time they are texting on phone. Sometime on my Friday holiday I meet them. Full time they are having so much love. They will get marry when they go back to Philippines.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I am thinking today of all the love bird like Alma and her boyfriend. And I wish them all happy valentines day. Rayan is come and tell me Sally you be my valentine today. He give me a chocolate. He is surprise me. I tell him sure Rayan I be your valentine. I try to give him hug but he run away. He is shy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When Rayan come to me I am thinking of Alma and love and love bird. Then suddenly my mind is get distract. Sometimes my mind is like that. I think of one thing and then I think of something completely different. My mind goes to that game Rayan plays. Angry bird. Opposite of love bird. So funny the game is. And so funny Rayan is. He get so involved in this game. If he is not able to win the game he gets so angry. It is like Rayan has become the angry bird.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Few days back in paper I am reading that now in ski dubai they have got penguins. Really. Imagine in ski dubai there is all fake snow. machine snow.&amp;nbsp;not snow that fall from sky. not natural snow. and this penguin has to live here. I feel sorry for the penguins. They are so far away from their home in this fake snow place. I know how that feeling is. I hope these penguins do not feel homesick like me. I hope we do not become angry birds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Because I only want to be a love bird. Happy Valentines day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-3795431348445244004?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/usAW1stOSsU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/3795431348445244004/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/love-bird.html#comment-form" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/3795431348445244004?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/3795431348445244004?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/usAW1stOSsU/love-bird.html" title="love bird" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/love-bird.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEGRH4_eyp7ImA9WhRaEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-2670474075647148409</id><published>2012-02-13T18:11:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T18:17:05.043+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-13T18:17:05.043+04:00</app:edited><title>water</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Few week back I am reading in paper that water is less in uae. I am not knowing this before. I think that because of the sea there is lot of water. But paper is saying that one day water get over. or more costly. I get very worry. Full time I am thinking of this. If there no water what we will drink? How we will do washing? How I will clean car? How we will give water to garden? I show maam the paper. I tell her maam now I not wash car every day. I only do it one time in week. So I can save water. Maam say by the time this happens Sally you and I both will have left Dubai. She say Sally you do your work I will worry about the water.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But I know she not worry about water.&amp;nbsp;Maam is buying water to drink.&amp;nbsp;If water get over she will just buy more bottle. If it cost more she will just pay more. Every week the water man is coming with big bottles of water. He take old bottles and give new one. In this house everyone is drinking water from this big bottle. Even me. When it is hot in Dubai I fill big jug with this water and put in fridge. I use this water for making ice also.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You remember my friend Roslie? She is the one who work next door for part time work. She tell me that her one maam not let her drink this bottle water. Her maam tell her Roslie you no drink this water you drink from tap. One time Roslie tell me she take water from fridge because it so hot outside she want cold water. Her maam get angry. She say Roslie you not ask me? how you take my water from my fridge?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Roslie so angry. I tell her Roslie I have solution for you. Next time you fill your own tap water and put in fridge. Then your maam not able to say anything. Then your maam no get angry with you for drinking her water. Roslie so upset with her maam she say next time I fill water for her I spit in it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When Roslie say this she is angry like a snake. Ulupong. cobra snake. Very dangerous snake in Philippines. It has so much poison in its spit. Roslie is like this snake who want to put her poison spit in her maams water. Her mind is having poison thought for her maam.&amp;nbsp;I understand why she angry.&amp;nbsp;But I tell her Roslie it no use you think like this. It bad for your mind only. Nothing will change for your maam but your mind will go mad. Better you clean your mind of this poison thinking. Roslie laugh and say Sally should I clean my mind with tap water or maams bottle water?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My maam not worry that water get over or cost more. Because she will buy more water or pay more money.&amp;nbsp;And anyway like maam say when the water get over we will all be back in our home country. So I am thinking no more worry for me for water. I will wash the car every day. And wash this worry from my mind. I hope Roslie also wash her mind of her poison thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-2670474075647148409?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/C95puHfOKSA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/2670474075647148409/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/water.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2670474075647148409?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2670474075647148409?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/C95puHfOKSA/water.html" title="water" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/water.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YMQ3w6fip7ImA9WhRbE0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-2070075899407936068</id><published>2012-02-03T20:36:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T21:06:22.216+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-04T21:06:22.216+04:00</app:edited><title>overtime</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Few days back I am reading in paper that one man is falling from building construction. He fall down and die. So sad I feel for this man. He is not getting his overtime pay for two month but still he working&amp;nbsp;overtime. So he can send money to his family.&amp;nbsp;Poor man. Now the only overtime he is doing is in heaven. I feel very sad when I read story like this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maid is not get overtime pay. Because we not have any fix time to work. Like some day I work till 8. Some days my work get over at 7. Some days 9 or even 12 midnight if maam is having party. Like that &amp;nbsp;there no fix time. so how we can get overtime? But so many time I wish I get overtime pay.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Like one time I am suppose to go for my holiday on Friday. Maam say Sally you have to work this Friday because I am having big dinner in house. So full Friday instead of going out I have to stay home and cook. This is overtime work but I not get any extra money.&amp;nbsp;Sometime when maam is having guest in house I have to do double work for so many day. Like double laundry. Double cooking. Double washing. But no double pay. Overtime work but no overtime pay.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I tell my friend Maria that it would be so good if all maid get overtime pay. Maria is always think how to make more money. She say Sally if you want overtime pay why you not do part time work somewhere? Like ironing or cooking in afternoon. When your maam is not at home. Maria always have some solution like this. But if I get caught doing part time work then I can be deport. Forever ban from Dubai work. Bye bye Dubai. So for me that is not good solution.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It better I not think of this overtime. It better I not do part time work for overtime pay. Because then it will not be overtime but time over for me in Dubai. Like the poor man who fall from building. Time over. Forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-2070075899407936068?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/GIT3nHxwzWs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/2070075899407936068/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/overtime.html#comment-form" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2070075899407936068?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2070075899407936068?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/GIT3nHxwzWs/overtime.html" title="overtime" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>8</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/02/overtime.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UHRH04eyp7ImA9WhRUGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-5134495139486534034</id><published>2012-01-26T07:42:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T22:47:15.333+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-30T22:47:15.333+04:00</app:edited><title>cold</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;It is so cold. I am wearing two coats but I am still feeling cold. &amp;nbsp;Rayan is saying it is so cold maybe it will snow. Maam is laughing and saying no snow Rayan we live in desert. In the morning when I wake up I have to wear so many thing before I go out to get paper. I wear my socks. My coats. My scarf. Then I run out and get paper. Then I have to come in and take socks off. Take scarf off. Take coat off. Then when I go out to hang clothes again same thing. I not like this cold.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One time in my Oman sir house it is cold like this. My Oman maam is buying heater for her room. For childrens room. For dining room. For all room but not for me. I tell her maam my room is so cold in night. But she not give me heater. She not even give me blanket. she only say Sally if you cold you wear coat. In the night I am so cold I have no choice. I am taking the heater of the dining room in my room. Then in morning I put it back before my Oman maam wake up. Like that I do for 2 or 3 night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But only for few nights because one time when I am putting back the heater my Oman sir is seeing me. He say Sally what you are doing? You stealing heater and put it in your room? If you do again I cut your salary.&amp;nbsp;After that I dont take heater again. I think it is better if I am cold. At least I get my salary.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Yesterday maam&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;give me warm blanket for sleeping&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;. She say Sally you keep warm. I know in Philippines it not get this cold so you not use to it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two days back my maam cut my heart out because she not appreciate my work. But when she give me this warm blanket she make my heart warm again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-5134495139486534034?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/Y2mSoXIcrZI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/5134495139486534034/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/01/cold.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5134495139486534034?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5134495139486534034?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/Y2mSoXIcrZI/cold.html" title="cold" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/01/cold.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UMSXY9fCp7ImA9WhRUEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-5917130119387237668</id><published>2012-01-23T08:06:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T09:08:08.864+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-23T09:08:08.864+04:00</app:edited><title>coffee morning</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today morning some ladies is coming to our house for coffee morning. Why they call it coffee morning I not understand. All of them drinking tea or juice. They should call it tea or juice morning. Maam is tell me that they have to plan school party. But full time they talk about other thing. Full time they laughing so loudly. It not look like they do work for school party. It look like they are having party.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;After they go home maam tell me that was good coffee morning Sally. We get so much work done. I know how much work they do. But I not say anything to her. Then she say ok Sally now you have to help me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;She give me lot of red and pink paper and heart shape. She say Sally I want you to cut out 100 red heart and 100 pink heart. It is for valentine party at school next month. Now I know. All coffee morning work is come to me. That is how they get so much work done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;Full morning I am cutting red and pink hearts. My hand is hurting I am doing so much cutting. Maam go out and come back. Still I am cutting. Finally it is over. When I give her the hearts maam only say Sally put it in a zip bag. She not even say thank you for doing my work.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;In the evening maam is talking on phone to her friend. She is telling her that all the heart is cut. But maam not say that Sally has cut all the heart.&amp;nbsp;She act like she is the one who&amp;nbsp;spend full morning to cut the heart. I feel so bad.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;Maam not cut out even one paper heart. But&amp;nbsp;I feel like she cut my heart out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-5917130119387237668?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/RjlhOK7gWY0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/5917130119387237668/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/01/coffee-morning.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5917130119387237668?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5917130119387237668?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/RjlhOK7gWY0/coffee-morning.html" title="coffee morning" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/01/coffee-morning.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cMQ3Y5cCp7ImA9WhRVEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-4714532853581951080</id><published>2012-01-10T21:04:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T21:04:42.828+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-10T21:04:42.828+04:00</app:edited><title>rainbow and puzzle</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Few days back one little baby is coming to our house. She is baby of maams friend. She is so cute. so sweet baby.&amp;nbsp;She is so small but all of us watching this baby. What she is doing I tell you. The sun is shining through the glass and making rainbow on the floor. Baby is trying to pick up rainbow. Everyone is laughing. But baby not laughing. She keep trying to pick it up. Then she making sad face because she is not able to pick up rainbow. She start crying. She go to her mama. Her mama is give her some toy so she get distract from rainbow. Baby is happy again. She forget about rainbow. So simple. For children life is always simple.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Like yesterday. Rayan is playing with puzzle. He make full puzzle but one piece missing. He start crying. He say Sally you put away puzzle so you have the piece. I tell him no Rayan I not having any puzzle piece. but he is like the baby and the rainbow. He start to cry because he not able to finish his puzzle. Now maam say Rayan why you crying? Rayan tell her Sally is lose my puzzle piece. Maam say Sally where it is? Now you tell me what I am suppose to say to this question? I tell her maam maybe it is in another puzzle box. Maam say ok Sally you look for puzzle and Rayan you go play on your DS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Then for so much time I look in all puzzle boxes. All my work of kitchen is have to wait. I have to find one puzzle piece. Rayan have so many puzzles. I take out one box and count all piece. If number count &amp;nbsp;is correct then I check other box. But it not so easy. Some box have more piece. Some box have less piece. Some puzzle piece is all mix up. I tell Rayan we have to make all puzzles so that we know what is missing. Rayan is already playing with DS. He say Sally you make all the puzzle I am playing on DS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;That is how children are.&amp;nbsp;Their life is so simple. If children not get something they cry. Then they get something better. And forget they want first thing. When you are child if you cannot have the rainbow your mama give you something else. If you cannot finish the puzzle it is ok. someone else will find the missing piece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;When you grow up there are so many rainbows that you cannot get. There are so many pieces missing from your life puzzle. Maybe sometimes you cry. But that not help you find what you are looking for. Maybe sometimes you get distract by something else. But that not help you find what you are looking for.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;The only way you find it is to never stop looking. For the rainbow. or for the puzzle piece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-4714532853581951080?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/py_dUktPlTQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/4714532853581951080/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/01/rainbow-and-puzzle.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/4714532853581951080?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/4714532853581951080?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/py_dUktPlTQ/rainbow-and-puzzle.html" title="rainbow and puzzle" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/01/rainbow-and-puzzle.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUHRXw7eSp7ImA9WhRWGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-5868439166683932636</id><published>2012-01-06T06:33:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T06:33:54.201+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-06T06:33:54.201+04:00</app:edited><title>long way home</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;My grandmother cannot read. But she can tell story. Lots of stories. All of them are in her head. One time she tell me this story about this man who takes more time to reach home when he goes fast. And he takes less time to reach home if he goes slow. How that can be? I tell you. He is taking a big basket of coconuts with him up a big mountain. So when he go fast all the coconuts fall down and he have to pick them up. That is how when he goes slow he reaches home quickly. Because he does not drop the coconuts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I think of this story yesterday. Maam is going to her friends house for lunch. I tell her maam I want to go to mall which is coming in middle so can you give me car lift to mall? Maam telling me Sally my friend is telling me different way to go. It is like a short cut. I going to try it out. So I not able to drop you to mall. I thinking why she have to try this new way today? Then I think maybe she not going to her friends house and going somewhere else. And she not want to take me. or tell me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When she come back I ask her how her short cut is. she say Sally I getting so lost I have to &amp;nbsp;do u turn and come back. and then go usual way. I ask her why she not using her gps. She say Sally gps is useless because road is changing every day. Then she say gps is only good to find way back home if I am very badly lost.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I feel little bad because why she not drop me to mall if she do u turn and come back home? but I not say anything to her. What the use? If I tell her I still not will not be able to go to mall today. But I tell her maam your short cut is become long cut. Maam laugh and say at least I am reaching my friends house before lunch is over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For maam short cut is a long cut.&amp;nbsp;For the coconut man the fast way is slow and the slow way is fast. But maybe sometimes in life it is better to take the slow way like the coconut man. or the long way like maam.&amp;nbsp;Because sometimes the slow long way is better than the fast short way. Because in the end you reach your home in the best way.&amp;nbsp;Without help of any gps.&amp;nbsp;With all the coconuts in your basket.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-5868439166683932636?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/-3J_0Q-fSPk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/5868439166683932636/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/01/long-way-home.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5868439166683932636?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5868439166683932636?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/-3J_0Q-fSPk/long-way-home.html" title="long way home" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2012/01/long-way-home.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8FQ3k8eip7ImA9WhRWEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-9137424224824228971</id><published>2011-12-27T18:48:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T05:46:52.772+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-28T05:46:52.772+04:00</app:edited><title>Same but different</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When I go home for my vacation I feel like everything is same. but also different. I try to explain. My son is become so big. He is still my son but when I look at him he not look like my baby any more. He not talk like my baby any more. It is like he is big. He is same but different. He call me mama. but he not know who mama really is. How can he know? I am so far away for him. I am most important person for him but I am nobody for him. Being with him make me happy and sad at same time. like it is raining when the sun is shining.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;Richie is also different. he is now another person. The one I knew when I was 17 year old girl is gone. How I can say this? He is too far from me now. Not just far like Dubai and Davao but just far. Gone. changed. He is same person but he is so different. When he talk to me it is like he is stranger. How I can have baby with him I dont know? It so funny feeling. I feel like I know him so well but I not know him at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;My mother is still same. Only interest is money. Money money money. All the time she ask me Sally what you bring? Sally why you not bring this? Sally why you not bring that? She is same and her questions are not different. Why she not ask me Sally how your maam is treat you? Sally you ok? Why you so sad Sally?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;Already 2011 is over. In 5 days it will be new year. So much is happen in one year. But so little is different. How that can be? How it can feel like your whole life is change but still it is all the same? How it can be that you think you are important but you are still nobody special? How it can be that you are a stranger to someone but you still know them so well? How can it be rainy and sunny at the same time?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;There is no use thinking of all thing in the past. Everything is different but nothing has changed. The only thing that has really changed is time. And me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-9137424224824228971?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/5UF8x6ir-oQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/9137424224824228971/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/12/same-but-different.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/9137424224824228971?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/9137424224824228971?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/5UF8x6ir-oQ/same-but-different.html" title="Same but different" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/12/same-but-different.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04MRX86eyp7ImA9WhRXEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-4232146374948540413</id><published>2011-12-19T05:59:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T05:59:44.113+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-19T05:59:44.113+04:00</app:edited><title>job</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Few days back I am hearing maam and sir talking. Sir is say to maam that there is many lay off in office. First I am not understand what he is mean by lay off. I think he saying day off. I thinking that not so bad thing why sir is feel so upset? Then I hearing him say&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;17 people is get sack today.&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;now I understand. Get sack and lay off mean same thing. Bad thing. It mean lose job. fired. I am not wanting to get sack. or lay off. or fired. Sir say to maam that even he is in danger. of be lay off. That is make me worry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I waiting for sir to go to work. Then I asking maam what sir is saying. Maam is getting little bit angry. She say Sally it not your business. Why you listen to me and sir when we are talking? It not good manners to listen like this. you do your work. You no have to worry about anything.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I am worry. My friend Rita is lose her job this way only. Her sir is get sack from his job. He lose his job. So she lose her job. The whole family of her sir is move back to home country because they not having visa now. And Rita is try for one month to get new job but then even she have to go back home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How maam can say it not my business? Sir is sponsor my visa. If he is in danger of getting sack then I am in danger also. I am telling Lilibeth. She say Sally I am knowing one family. They look for new house maid. I talk to them if your sir is get sack. I tell&amp;nbsp;Maria. She is also tell me same thing. She say Sally I find for you new family. You not worry. You are so hard worker. There is lot of family here in Dubai who want maid like you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I feel happy my friends are able to help me. &amp;nbsp;I tell maam that if I get lay off then my friends will help me. I say maam&amp;nbsp;I hope sirs friend is also able to help him if he is lay off. Maam is get upset with me. She say Sally why you go tell all neighbours our home problem? It not your business and it not their business. She say Sally you keep your mouth quiet about this. We not know what is happen. No one is getting lay off. But I know she is worry. So how I can believe her when she is not believe it herself?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When sir is home full time he is talking on phone. Talking to so many people. About this only. Who is going. who is staying. who is next going. He talking to his friend. his father. his mother. I know because he talk very loudly. Full house is hearing. I not understand why maam not want me to talk about this when sir is talking to everybody about it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am not knowing what will happen with sirs job. I not knowing what happen to my job. I hope sir is not get sack. I will pray for his job. And my job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-4232146374948540413?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/lXSHoQX_6AY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/4232146374948540413/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/12/job.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/4232146374948540413?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/4232146374948540413?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/lXSHoQX_6AY/job.html" title="job" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/12/job.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAHRH4zeip7ImA9WhRQGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-1117094282163554475</id><published>2011-12-14T06:45:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T06:45:35.082+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-14T06:45:35.082+04:00</app:edited><title>I am back</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I have not written for so many days. Because I go for vacation. To my home. When my maam is renew my contract I am not going for my vacation. Maam is tell me that I can do my vacation at christmas. when she go for her vacation.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then in october she say Sally we are not going for vacation at christmas this year. It so expensive we are staying in Dubai. We will do big christmas lunch. She say Sally you go your vacation little early and come back before christmas.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So you can help me with christmas lunch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Maam tell me to go one month. But I tell her maam I only want to go 15 or 20 days because if I stay more days it more difficult when I come back. More days mean more homesick when I come back.&amp;nbsp;I just want to see my family. but I not want to get use to being there with them. Because then I will not want to leave.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I explain better. Going home is so good. And it is so bad. Good because I see my family. my son. Richie. Bad because I have to leave them and come back. When you stay far away in Dubai for so many year you get use to not seeing your family. You become how you say tough? Then you go back for vacation and when you return it like you have to start again. All the homesick and memory and crying.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I go and now I come back.&amp;nbsp;I am back but my heart and my mind is still in Philippines.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-1117094282163554475?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/inPbkG_vy0s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/1117094282163554475/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-am-back.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/1117094282163554475?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/1117094282163554475?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/inPbkG_vy0s/i-am-back.html" title="I am back" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-am-back.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UDSHk8fSp7ImA9WhRSGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-6871804959660571388</id><published>2011-11-22T06:34:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T06:34:39.775+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-22T06:34:39.775+04:00</app:edited><title>sleep is cut</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;Few day back I am reading in paper this story that this person is getting a fine for sleeping on train. On metro train. It so funny. Everyone feel like fall asleep on a train. Why this fine? I am then reading that the fine for sleep on metro is 300. But the fine for carrying gun or knife on metro is 200. how that can be correct? How sleeping on metro is worse than carrying a gun or knife? Sometimes I not understand how they write these rule.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;So many rules.&amp;nbsp;I not know all these rule. Like&amp;nbsp;I not know you can get fine 100 dirham for eating or chewing gum on metro. or 100 dirham fine for causing disturb. I not have money to pay these fines.&amp;nbsp;I am thinking now that it good that I not go on metro too much.&amp;nbsp;Maam house is very far from station. It too difficult to reach station. I have to take bus or car lift for station. Then I have to take train. Then again same thing. Bus or car lift. So it better I take only car lift when I have to go for my holiday. I get pick up from home and drop at home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;My friend Susan is lucky. Her maam is drop her to MOE and pick her up in evening. But maybe she not so much lucky. Because she always worry her maam waiting. She always having to finish quick and run to station. I remember when I am first coming to this maams house I asking maam to give me car lift and she not liking. She say Sally you go your holiday so early in morning. I am not waking up so early. I need to sleep for my beauty. I not like cutting my sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;See how she is? she wanting me to cut my sleep and put food in slow cooker before I go for my holiday. But she not want to cut her sleep. She not thinking that if she cut her sleep my money is save. But she not understand all that. Because she not in that situation. Because little money not so important thing for her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;When I am doing vaccum I am always so bored. Sometimes I make up story in my head. Like dream but I am awake. Not sleeping dream. Day dream. Sometime it is funny. Sometime it is sad. But it always make me think of life. I give you example.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Imagine. It is Friday. I am waking up early for slow cooker before my holiday. I am cutting vegetable. Maam is get disturb. She cut her sleep and wake up. she say she give me car lift to station. She say Sally lets go quickly we will be late. I so excite that I save little money. Instead of putting knife in dishwasher I put knife in my bag. Then maam say Sally today we will go together for holiday. Maam is get on metro with me. After few minute she say Sally you wake me up so early. you cut my sleep I feeling so sleepy. She fall asleep on metro. When the inspector is come he give her 300 dirham fine. He also give me 200 dirham fine for knife in bag.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;It is just silly dream story. But it make me think. Both of us would have to pay fine. Her 300 dirham sleep fine is more than my 200 dirham knife fine. But even if her fine is more it will mean less for maam. and even if my fine is less it will mean more for me. Maam will just pay 300 dirham. no problem. For me the 200 dirham fine will be like the knife in my bag. It will hurt. It will make me bleed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Yes it is better I not go on metro. Then I not have to worry about fine or chewing gum. I not have to worry about knife or sleep. or cutting maams sleep.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-6871804959660571388?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/rhnmOz9TLRw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/6871804959660571388/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/sleep-is-cut.html#comment-form" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/6871804959660571388?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/6871804959660571388?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/rhnmOz9TLRw/sleep-is-cut.html" title="sleep is cut" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>8</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/sleep-is-cut.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UGR3s4eip7ImA9WhRSFEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-2834638280893616152</id><published>2011-11-16T23:20:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T23:20:26.532+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-16T23:20:26.532+04:00</app:edited><title>Sea of life</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This story is the 100th story on this blog. 100 stories of my life. 100 stories about my days. my boring days. Just think. Full day I do so boring things. I cook. I clean. I wash. I iron. I do laundry. and then I do it all again next day. Maybe sometimes I do something different. Like if maam is taking me to mall to see fountain or something like that. But mostly every day of my life is same.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Before I start this blog my life was so boring. everyday. same boring day. After I start writing this blog I feel like my life is change. I see same thing. but it have different meaning. new meaning. I feel like everything in my life is now having some meaning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I hope my life also having some meaning. to other housemaids. to all other person who think he is too small to do anything big. I want this story to tell you that you can be so very small but you can still have very big dreams.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I want to celebrate this 100th story. So I am doing something new on this blog. Because this blog make me see everything like it is new. I am writing a poem. About life. My first time to do this. I hope you like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sea of Life&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I am swimming&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I am floating&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I am drowning&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;The waves they come and they go&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sometimes they are high. sometimes low&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I move with the water.  fast or slow&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Where is the boat to make me cross this sea&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Who is the light that will guide me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Where can I put my anchor permanently&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Every second of my life is like salt in this sea&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Small moment that change the taste of life for me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;The stories of my life like water drops in this sea&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I want my mind to be deep just like the sea&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;My heart to swallow you up if you let me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I want the light of the sun to shine in me&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I want to rock you in my arms when we meet&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I want to pull the sand from under your feet&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I want to make this life of ours complete&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I know there is an end to this sea&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Where the sky touch the sea. where we are free&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Is it heaven or hell? it all depend on me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I know there is end to the sea of life. But I not want anything to end just now. I not want to stop my big dreams.&amp;nbsp;My dreams are like castles of sand on the beach. Castles that my sea of life keeps eating up. But I always build the castle again. Because I never want to stop my dreaming.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-2834638280893616152?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/rsuFDSDVjTM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/2834638280893616152/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/sea-of-life.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2834638280893616152?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2834638280893616152?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/rsuFDSDVjTM/sea-of-life.html" title="Sea of life" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/sea-of-life.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEEQ309eSp7ImA9WhRTGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-8460269519982285399</id><published>2011-11-10T23:13:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T04:50:02.361+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-11T04:50:02.361+04:00</app:edited><title>Fine</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today I am reading in paper that there is this one housemaid who is winning case. Her maam is not pay her for 5 years. Imagine. How she is going on working without any pay?&amp;nbsp;Why she wait 5 years before she do complain to consulate?&amp;nbsp;Now she getting her 5 year pay and also one year extra. So everyone think all is fine. But I not think it all fine. I tell you why.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;First- the maid is Filipina but her salary is only 600 dirham. It is suppose to be 1400 or 1500 dirham. How she is work for so less pay? In newspaper they write that consulate is agree that it little bit low but it is in the contact. so it ok. I am thinking that it not just little bit low. 600 dirham is more than half lower than 1500 dirham. How she sign contract for so less pay I am not understanding. Why they not make agency and employer pay fine when they find out that salary is not correct? Why there is no one appoint from consulate who look at all housemaid contracts and check that the salary is ok? But then I think atleast now she get 600 dirham. It better than 0 dirham which is what her salary is for so many years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Second- I think the maam should be punish for not paying salary. She pay what she is owe the maid and little more. But no fine. No other punishment. Why they not put ban on her from keeping another maid? Just like they are banning the maid if she do something bad. sometimes they should put some ban on employer also. Like if the employer is beat maid then he should get ban. If he is not pay maid then he should be ban. If he having complain from maid of abuse then he should be ban. If not ban then at least fine? What you think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When maid do something wrong she get ban and deport. No one want to listen also to what she say. I think that even the maam who do wrong things to maid should be ban. or pay some fine. Then maybe it will all be fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-8460269519982285399?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/MGYWlg9Z_4g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/8460269519982285399/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/fine.html#comment-form" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/8460269519982285399?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/8460269519982285399?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/MGYWlg9Z_4g/fine.html" title="Fine" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/fine.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EHQX85fip7ImA9WhRTGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-5788725411990256819</id><published>2011-11-09T18:36:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T18:40:30.126+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-09T18:40:30.126+04:00</app:edited><title>Thunder</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday I am waking up in morning and there is thunder. And rain. You all know how much I like my lucky rain. But I am not liking thunder. My grandmother tell me that when it thunder God is angry. Rayan is also not liking thunder. Lot of children is not like thunder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;One time when I am at my before sir house there is rain and thunder. in middle of night. the girl J is coming in my room. She is 4 year old. She tell me Sally I am scare. I sleep in your room. I quickly get out of my bed. I give her hug. I tell her it only thunder J you no worry. But I getting worry. Not because of thunder. Because I know my before maam get so angry that J come to my room. I know she get angry if J sleep in my bed. I tell J that she have to go in her bed. Now she start crying more. I am worry my before maam will get disturb. So I go in her room and I sleep on the floor. I hold her hand. so she is not scare. J tell me I love you Sally for sleep with me in my room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;In morning I am telling my before maam. That J getting scare of thunder. That I sleep in her room. She get angry with J. She say J how many time I tell you not to be scare of thunder? To sleep in your own bed? Not to disturb me at night. I want to laugh because J is not disturb her. J is disturb me. But it ok because she is so small child and she need comfort. I happy I able to comfort J.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I know my before maam did not like that J is come to me for comfort. Maybe she feeling jealous? like she not good mother. She getting angry with J for that. She getting angry with J for want to sleep in my bed. Full day my before maam is worry that she do this again. She keep telling her J no get scare of thunder. J Stay in your room next time. I not want you to disturb anyone. J is looking so scare like she do some big mistake. I want to hug her again. to comfort her again. but I know my before maam not like it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Why my before maam not hug her? and say it ok J. Why she not tell her J you not worry? I there for you when it thunder. You come to me when it thunder. Why she not comfort her and make her feel better? I getting upset. Now I know why J not go to her room. why she come to my room when it thunder.&amp;nbsp;It good that rain and thunder is very less in Dubai. So she not have to come to my room again. So she not have to cry in her bed if she is scare.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Yesterday I think so much of J.&amp;nbsp;My before maam and J is move to a country where there is lot of rain and thunder.&amp;nbsp;I hope J is not scare of thunder anymore. And I hope her mother is comfort her when there is thunderstorm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-5788725411990256819?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/9phEk3U68pM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/5788725411990256819/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/thunder.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5788725411990256819?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/5788725411990256819?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/9phEk3U68pM/thunder.html" title="Thunder" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/thunder.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQHQ3o6eyp7ImA9WhRTFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-307868790934618476</id><published>2011-11-05T18:45:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2011-11-05T18:45:32.413+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-05T18:45:32.413+04:00</app:edited><title>Memories</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today Sara is playing piano. She play so nice. She is practicing her new song. When I am small girl my daddy always singing this song for me. I am feeling sad. I miss my daddy. He&amp;nbsp;is gone from my life for so long. Not just die but even before that he leave my mother. He leave us and that is when my life is fully change.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I think how this one song is make me remember my childhood day. Always it happen like this. I am hearing some song it is make me feel sad. or happy. or remember Richie. or my son. or my father. or the rain. or eating kwek kwek.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;I dont know how I suddenly think of this kwek kwek. You know what it is? It is egg of kwail that we are frying. It is so delicious. I remember one time it raining lots. I must be maybe 10 or 11. So many year ago. But I remember it like it happen today. My father is bringing kwek kwek from the booth. We are all coming home from school full wet. but we are having so much fun. My mother make for us hot salabat. ginger tea. And we eat kwek kwek. All of us laughing and happy. Until now this memory is lost in my brain. And today I am remembering it because of the piano song.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;We did not have money. We were not rich. But we had so much fun. I have so many memories like this kwek kwek day. Memories that I have lock in my brain. Today when I hear the piano it was like I find the key. to my lost treasure of memories.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy memories that make me sad. Because those days are gone forever.&amp;nbsp;I want to go back to that time. to that place. But I cannot find my way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We did not have money but our lives were rich. Rich with fun and laughter. Until my daddy left us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-307868790934618476?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/Fx2R_GC8iCU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/307868790934618476/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/memories.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/307868790934618476?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/307868790934618476?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/Fx2R_GC8iCU/memories.html" title="Memories" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/11/memories.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYBSXc4cSp7ImA9WhdaGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-2223265873797587189</id><published>2011-10-30T07:09:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2011-10-30T07:09:18.939+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-30T07:09:18.939+04:00</app:edited><title>pressure cooker</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Maam is getting new cooker in house. It is a slow cooker. First she is having only a pressure cooker. But now she get this new thing. She tell me Sally I bring this cooker for you. to use. it is very nice. it cooking everything slowly. you put in morning it is done in evening. I not understand why she want me to use this new cooker. I am not needing any new cooker. She is not doing cooking. I am doing cooking. And I only want cooking to be done quickly. I am not wanting to wait whole day for my kitchen work to be finish. So pressure cooker is doing good work for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I tell her maam I not needing this slow thing. I am happy with pressure cooker. Maam saying Sally I bring this for you I think you would be happy to use it. Then she say Sally when you go Friday morning for your holiday you put everything in slow cooker before you go. Then when you come back it be ready. Now I understand why she buying this fancy thing. She is not wanting to do little bit cooking even on Friday.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I go for my holiday at 5.30 or 6 o clock in morning. How she want me to cook before that? I am feeling little bit upset on maam. She always do this. She give me something nice but it always nice for her. Not for me.&amp;nbsp;She is not buying it for me. She is buying it for her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Now I am feeling angry. I feel like a pressure cooker that is going to burst.&amp;nbsp;Like I cannot breathe and it is all inside me.&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;telling maam I am not wanting this cooker. It no good for me. Maam say Sally your attitude really having to change. I get you something nice and you are rude. you all the time so rude. this will not do. if you not know how to use then I show you. but I want you to try to use it. at least on Friday. better change your attitude Sally. I am thinking she need to change her attitude for my Friday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I now explain my Friday to you. it is my holiday. Which mean I do no work till evening. No cleaning. No cooking. No slow cooker. When I start working at this maam I am coming home at 5 in evening. But now maam is trust me little so I am coming little later. Maybe 7.00 or sometimes 7.30. When I come home my holiday is over. So I clean up kitchen. I wash all dishes that maam has use in day and leave in sink for me when I come back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now I am thinking how much maam is change since when I first come here. Before she would do cooking for lunch and dinner on Friday. Now she only eat from fridge or go out. Before she would do &amp;nbsp;cleaning for all dishes. Full sink would be empty. Now full sink is full. Now she leave everything for me. maam and sir taking children out for dinner on Fridays. so she not have to do any cooking. But now she not wanting to go out for dinner also. She make me cook dinner. In this stupid slow cooker. Before I go for my holiday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This slow cooker is slowly taking my holiday away. Maybe I make the food bad in this slow cooker. I will put pressure on maam to return it. I like this idea. It slowly take the weight off. from my pressure cooker. and I am able to breathe again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-2223265873797587189?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/6FFC2okimYc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/2223265873797587189/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/10/pressure-cooker.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2223265873797587189?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2223265873797587189?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/6FFC2okimYc/pressure-cooker.html" title="pressure cooker" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/10/pressure-cooker.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEFRXs8eSp7ImA9WhdaE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-7964776782100542861</id><published>2011-10-23T08:03:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T08:03:34.571+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-23T08:03:34.571+04:00</app:edited><title>Beauty queen</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Some week back all housemaid is excited about Shamcey Supsup. She is Miss Philippines. Beauty queen. she is in the Miss Universe contest and she is in top5. She is not the winner. but she is making full Philippine very proud that she do so good.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I do not think they are doing Miss UAE contest here in Dubai. I have not read in newspaper about it. Maybe it is there but I am not knowing. But definitely I know Miss UAE is not in Miss Universe contest. How they can be? All the local girl here is wearing abaya. Full black cover up on top of their dress. Even for swimming. Full abaya in the pool. Really I have seen it. They selling full cover burkini swimsuit in mall also. They are not allow to wear bikini. because they always have to cover up. &amp;nbsp;To hide the body. But you cannot wear burkini &amp;nbsp;or abaya for swim suit contest in miss universe show. Maybe thats why Miss UAE not going for Miss Universe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Maybe you think that because they all wear abaya they all wear like uniform. But that not true. Some of their abaya is so fashionous. It so interesting when I go to mall sometimes with maam or on my holiday. I looking at all different style of the local emirati ladies.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;So many different style abaya. So many different style head scarf&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;. Every lady is looking different.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Some ladies are putting this big flower clip in their hair. Under the scarf to make the head look big. Mostly it look good.very stylish. but sometime when it is too big it looking so funny. like her head is going to fall off. One time I am seeing one lady getting in car. She is having to move her full head to side to make it fit inside the car. She is looking so funny. I am wanting to laugh.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;First I not knowing that they put flower clip to make it look like this. I always think how the head looking so big? Then one day I am in washroom at mall and I see this lady is making her scarf proper. That time I am seeing how her head is become so big. And I am knowing the secret of the flower clip.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I am not understanding why they put such a pretty clip inside. because then they are hiding it with head scarf. They always hiding the beautiful thing. Like their body. And also their faces.&amp;nbsp;some ladies have to cover the face. then you can see only her eyes. Like her eyes are looking out of a window. Like we are looking into a window. I want to open the window and see more. I want to see if there is something beautiful hiding inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;When I am covering my face at my Oman sir house I am not able to see anything. I am all the time looking down and walking but still I am falling. But some of these ladies when they walk their head is so straight. Even with that big clip that make the head big. They walk like a princess or a queen. a beauty queen. No need for Miss UAE or Miss Universe contest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-7964776782100542861?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/KANvb4ZOFPw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/7964776782100542861/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/10/beauty-queen.html#comment-form" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/7964776782100542861?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/7964776782100542861?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/KANvb4ZOFPw/beauty-queen.html" title="Beauty queen" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/10/beauty-queen.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0ANSXs9eyp7ImA9WhdbFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-8727014872522139732</id><published>2011-10-15T07:16:00.002+04:00</published><updated>2011-10-15T07:36:38.563+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-15T07:36:38.563+04:00</app:edited><title>dust storm</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Few days back in Dubai there is dust storm. If you never see dust storm you not believe me when I say the dust just come. So much dust. Only dust. Dust go in your clothes and nose and hair and eyes and mouth. The dust just hang in air. you clean it but more dust is coming. Everything get covered in dust.&amp;nbsp;Always when dust storm is coming it means the weather will change. If it is cold it will become hot after dust storm. If it is hot then it become cold after dust storm. Like that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I am not liking dust storm because all my work is become so much.&amp;nbsp;First thing I have to run and bring all clothes inside. Because we are not having dryer. So all clothes is hanging out. When I see the dust storm is coming I quickly quickly have to run for clothes. If I am not realising then I am in big trouble. All clothes is full of dust. Maam not liking that. Then she make me do wash again. I remember&amp;nbsp; last year in the winter when there is dust storm this big blanket of maam is left outside in dust storm. Maam saying Sally it become so dusty you better you wash again. I saying yes maam.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But you know how hard it is to wash such a big blanket? I always wish maam give for dry clean but this blanket she make me wash at home. I wash in washing maching but still it so heavy when I have to bring it out. Then I have to put on clothes rack. When I am putting it the rack is falling down. It is so big and heavy so sometimes the blanket is touching the ground. Even that Maam does not like. She too particular about this kind of thing. Everything have to be so clean. Clothes cannot touch ground. Blanket cannot touch ground. But children if they sit on ground it is ok. I not understand maam.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She tell me how to dry this blanket. She say Sally you fold it first inside the house then you put it out. then after sometime you bring it in and open and fold again. and put it out again. When I wash this blanket I am folding and opening and folding it the whole day. Until it is dry.&amp;nbsp;It is too much work. And imagine if I have to do it two times in one day because of dust storm. I will not have time to do any other work. So I just shake it and fold and put away neatly when maam is not there. She not suspect me. Because I shake it very well there is no dust.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;So when it become dusty I am running outside like a mad girl. bringing full clothes rack inside. or bringing clothes inside. bringing bed sheets and bed covers and towels inside. But I cannot even leave door open because then all dust coming inside. It so difficult.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So much work also after the storm. I have to clean all porch chairs and table. Then I have to sweep porch. Then I have to wash cars and windows and clean the glass on the doors. There is dust everywhere. And if I forget to close some window then the dust is come inside also.&amp;nbsp;Too much work before and after the dust storm. That why all housemaid is not like when it come.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Few days back remember when I am sad because I miss my family? I think sadness is like a dust storm. When you feel sad the air is heavy. Like in the dust storm you cannot see anything clearly. It is like you are wearing dirty glasses and looking at the world. You can clean the dirty glasses and pray they do not get dusty again. &amp;nbsp;Pray that you do not get covered in a blanket of dust. Hope and pray that you can shake this blanket of sadness and fold it and put it away neatly. And hope when the dust storm goes away you have some better weather days.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-8727014872522139732?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/D146aiT6Hns" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/8727014872522139732/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/10/dust-storm.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/8727014872522139732?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/8727014872522139732?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/D146aiT6Hns/dust-storm.html" title="dust storm" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/10/dust-storm.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYGQXcyfSp7ImA9WhdUF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-8230745691262502184</id><published>2011-10-05T08:44:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T08:48:40.995+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-05T08:48:40.995+04:00</app:edited><title>One letter</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;For past week maam in not so good mood because sir is going London.&amp;nbsp;Maam is also wanting to go but she not able to leave children for so many day. Sir is going for work and maam say even she wanting to go. For shopping and meet her friend. She tell me Sally I am stuck here because children having school. If I go who will look after children? Who will take them for school and swimming and tennis and piano?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Sir not having to worry about all this. If he have to go he going. He doing lot of travel. He go mostly London but sometimes other place also. He go one week. Then one week he is at home. Too much travel. And when he at home sometimes he going for golf or dinner. He not worry about who is look after children. Because he know maam is always there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When sir not there then maam mood is little bit sad. Little alone. Like something missing. She not tell me but I know. Because I know how it like to be alone. Because I see her mood on her face. It look like she is eating something bitter. because she missing sir.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;She is in this sad mood yesterday also. Then she go out and come back home. Now she is very excited. She is smiling. I think what happen to her that she in so good mood? Maybe sir coming back quickly? Then she tell me. She going to post office. Over here in Dubai the letters is not coming to the house. She having to go post office and pick up from the box. Usually she just get letter and I not even know that she go to post office. But today she show me this letter.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her good friend is getting marry to her other good friend and she getting invitation. Maam is in so much good mood after getting this letter.&amp;nbsp;She tell me Sally imagine these two friend is know each other for so many years but not romance. and now they getting marry. She say I not even know they dating. Then she say Sally I am missing all the news in my home country. I wish I was back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She is running to make phone. She talking to her friend for lot of time. Full time she laughing and asking all question. When this happen? How it happen? Why you not send email? I am so surprise. but I am so happy for you both. I wish I was there. I wish I can come there.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;After the phone she tell me Sally I just have to go for this wedding. Imagine they both such good friend of mine from college. She say Sally I hope I can go. Sir will have to let me go. Then her mood go bad again. She say how I will go Sally? Who will take children to school and piano? Sir have to work he not able to stay home.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;She then say something to me first time. She say Sally I wish I not give up my job and stay at home. Then even I able to travel like sir. I not know this about maam. That she is also doing job before this. But she not tell me anything more and just go to her room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;One letter change her mood. One letter is make maam go from bitter to better. And then her mood go sad again. Not because she miss sir. but because she miss her life.&amp;nbsp;I always think that because she have so nice house and car maam is so happy. But like me she also just live not love her life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;See how one letter make so much difference? I hope sir let her go for wedding. I hope he give her chance to change her mood again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-8230745691262502184?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/BgQcT1RqR24" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/8230745691262502184/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/10/one-letter.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/8230745691262502184?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/8230745691262502184?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/BgQcT1RqR24/one-letter.html" title="One letter" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/10/one-letter.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIBQnk8eCp7ImA9WhdUE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-4796887771900623144</id><published>2011-09-29T21:49:00.000+04:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T21:49:13.770+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-29T21:49:13.770+04:00</app:edited><title>The maid is free</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Yesterday maam is getting call on her mobile. Her friend Maam K is having big dinner on Saturday and she want to invite maam and sir. Maam say yes they go for dinner. Then maam say no I am sorry but my maid is not free to come and help. She has to look after children.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know Maam just use children for excuse for not taking me. She not taking me like this anywhere to do work. even if I do not have to stay home with children. She not liking all this. She say that maid is suppose to work only at sponsor house. She worry that she might get fine if I work somewhere else. Any time her friend say is your maid free maam is always say no. for this reason.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Few week back in newspaper I am reading that there is so big fine if they catching maid doing illegal part time work. Maam is also seeing this. She say see Sally that is why I get worry when you go out without tell me. Because I worry you doing like this part time illegal work. Like maybe some ironing. Or some cleaning. I not want you to do that because see how big fine is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But some part time work is ok. Not illegal. Like in next door house. they have no full time maid. Only part time. She comes from agency. She comes two or three times in week. Lot of people is do like this if they not want to have maid live in the house. Then they are able to use the maid room as store room. For their bags or something.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Every time I am seeing this same girl coming. She bringing mop and broom and vacum and all cleaning thing and going in next door house. Then after three or four hour she waiting outside house for her car lift. Always waiting 20 minutes. sometimes waiting 30 minutes. in sun. On Monday when she is waiting I am going outside to talk to her. First time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Her name is Rosalie. I ask her how is it to work in agency. She say she starting work at 8 in morning and finish at 8 in night. Full day cleaning. or ironing. or washing clothes. Every house is different thing. But she busy full time because the maam is pay for her by hourly rate. Her only free time is when she eat lunch and when she waiting for her car lift. In the sun. That why she not mind waiting in the sun. Because she having little bit rest and free time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Every job is pay her 30 dirham for one hour. I am thinking she getting so much money every month. Like 6000 or 8000 dirham? Even I want to do this work. Then she say that all her money go to her agency. Then agency is pay her fix salary. It very low. And from that she having to buy her things. accomdation and bus and food and clothes. Then send home what she have left maybe 200 or 300 dirham. Now I do not want to do this work. So much hard work. so little bit rest time. And so little bit money in the end. I think my situation is better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Now I tell you my situation. This is how my salary get fix. At this maam house my salary is correct. But before this it not so good. When I apply to come here from Philippines the agency is telling me that my salary be 1500. When I come here agency make me sign contract with my before maam. My before maam say sign quick sign quick. So I just sign quick and not read contract. I make big mistake. when I get first salary she give me only 800. I am so much shock. I tell my before maam how this can be? Agency tell me I get 1500. She say Sally it in your contract. You sign contract at agency. She tell me Sally you work hard I increase your salary. After 6 month she make my salary 900.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It very low but I think at least I am getting salary every month. At least they not beat me or burn me. or like I am seeing in paper yesterday shave all my hair. Really.So bad this is. Anyway because my before maam and sir is not do any of these bad thing I keep quiet. And 900 dirham in peso is still lot of money.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;This maam coming new to Dubai. When she transfer my visa from my before maam she just fix my salary for 1200. She not knowing that Philippine goverment is fix minimum salary for all housemaid coming to Dubai. My before maam not say anything to my new maam. Even I feel shy to tell her. In her mind she think Sally salary is 900 I give her more. So she feeling like she doing good thing. Then one day she is reading in paper or somewhere about this minimum salary. So when she renew my contract she make it correct.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;Like this lot of country is fixing salary for maid coming in Dubai. Like if you are maid from India your salary is fix for 1100. And some girl from some country is get 650. too less.&amp;nbsp;I am happy I am from Philippine because maid from my country get more high salary than other country.&amp;nbsp;Why some country girl is getting so less and some is getting more?&amp;nbsp;All housemaid is do same hard work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
House maid work is so much hard work that no maam is want to do this work &amp;nbsp;That why they get maid to do the work.They not realise that maid is doing so much work until sometimes when maid is leaving and they have to do all the work. They just want work done properly. but they not want to pay properly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;When maam is finding villa last year she is always talking on phone. I am always hearing her. Four bedroom plus maid. Three bedroom plus maid. I know they talk about maid room but I am always thinking it sound like if you buy the villa the maid is free. Buy villa get maid free. Villa plus maid.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;But maid is not free. And housemaid work is not free work. That why I happy when maam tell Maam K and all her friend that Sally is not free to work at your house. Only maam and sir will go for dinner. Not maam and sir plus maid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-4796887771900623144?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/xQIhX4AC06A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/4796887771900623144/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/09/maid-is-free.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/4796887771900623144?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/4796887771900623144?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/xQIhX4AC06A/maid-is-free.html" title="The maid is free" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/09/maid-is-free.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEAR38-eCp7ImA9WhdVF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-7279693124670327422</id><published>2011-09-23T16:51:00.001+04:00</published><updated>2011-09-23T16:57:26.150+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-23T16:57:26.150+04:00</app:edited><title>one year old</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today my blog story is one year old. When I think of writing this story I never think that so many people will want to read my words. Because usually no one cares about the life of a house maid. Because for some people she is just a thing that people is having in their life to do work.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I want people to understand that maid is also a person. That she is thinking and has feelings. and she miss her home and her family so much. But she has to leave home to support her family.&amp;nbsp;I hope my blog makes people realise all these things. and that it does not matter how you speak. It does not matter how poor you are. It does not matter how educated you are. If you have something important to say you must say it. And people will read. people will listen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I want to say thank you. For reading. And for listening to Sallys heart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Birthday to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-7279693124670327422?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/s2Sf1PgP3P0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/7279693124670327422/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/09/one-year-old.html#comment-form" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/7279693124670327422?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/7279693124670327422?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/s2Sf1PgP3P0/one-year-old.html" title="one year old" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>11</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/09/one-year-old.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04DRX0yeCp7ImA9WhdVFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4650877449513398142.post-2366977849971333388</id><published>2011-09-21T19:18:00.003+04:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T21:26:14.390+04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-21T21:26:14.390+04:00</app:edited><title>strong</title><content type="html">&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Today when I wake up in morning my stomach is paining. I am asking maam for vicks. She is laugh and say Sally your stomach pain not go if you put vicks on it. she give me pink pepto to eat. Maam always having some medicine ready to give me. Panadol. Pink pepto. She not doctor but she always ready with some medicine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But I not wanting to eat pink pepto. I want to put vicks. My grandmother always put vicks on my stomach when it paining. I miss my vicks. I miss my family. I start crying. Maam tell me Sally what is this why you crying? If you want when I go out I buy for you vicks. She say Sally I not like all this crying for silly thing. You must have control. You must be strong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I understand. But I not like that she tell me this. I am crying because I am missing my family. But I know I am strong. I have left my family to come here to work. If I am not strong how I am able to do this? Before I go to my Oman sir I am never even seeing plane. Now I am flying on plane. Now I am so far away from my home. If I am not strong how I am able to lift the responsibility of my full family?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;This word strong is make me think. How we use in so many way. See my brother or Richie. Their body is so much strong than me. They can pick up so many heavy thing. But they not lifting up any responsibility of family. They not lifting up the family. so for them maybe the body is strong but they are weak.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Then I am thinking how this can happen? How my brother can be so strong but still so weak? I remember sirs father is always wanting strong tea. To make strong tea you have to make it very hot. Then you have to cover and let it sit for long time. But you have to be careful. If you boil little bit too long it is not good. it become bitter.&amp;nbsp;I think some people is like this strong tea. When they have lot of problem they have to become strong. There is no easy solution like medicine. They have to wait and be patient for solution. But they need to control. Just right strong and just right patient. So they do not become bitter tea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I think you become strong when you have no choice.&amp;nbsp;Matira ang matibay. Only the strong will last. I have no choice. I have to be strong. Otherwise I cannot last.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4650877449513398142-2366977849971333388?l=dubaisally.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/Dubaisally/~4/L2MWjAGBIvY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/feeds/2366977849971333388/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/09/strong.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2366977849971333388?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4650877449513398142/posts/default/2366977849971333388?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Dubaisally/~3/L2MWjAGBIvY/strong.html" title="strong" /><author><name>dubaisally</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14151537581675734537</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://dubaisally.blogspot.com/2011/09/strong.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

