A new man in my life

 

Last week my husband and I celebrated our 27th anniversary. 

We had a nice dinner with lots of water.

In Bangladesh the food is very delicious, but it is hard to pair it with matching champagne or other goodies, since alcohol is prohibited. 

 

This week I got a new man in my life. 

Not really. 

He is our housekeeper. Let's call him S.

Affluent people here have help in the house. According to statistics there are about two million domestic workers in Bangladesh, many of them children. Many of them badly underpaid.

And most probably the statistic figures are not reliable, the real numbers may be gloomier.

I have never had any help in the house and have never even considered it. I am a top cleaner, a mediocre cook and a terrible ironer.

My husband's predecessor hoped that we would employ S. and continue to give him an income in a country with few decent job opportunities. 

S. has a wife, four grown-up children and five grandchildren. He lives in Dhaka during the week and travels back to his family to a rural village in the weekends. He has worked for the same, well paying employer for decades. 

It was selfevident that we said yes. 

Now my new man and I just have to start "going out" together.

We'll hang out at the crocery market, add oil to the apartment's generator, shift light bulbs after power outage and chase roaches. Plus enjoy his Bangla cooking.