Scarecrow

Road was bumpy, dusty and the truck was old, my wife and I had difficulty holding ourselves to the seat- we were on to visit a house of a probable baby sitter in a village nearby Gomtu town. Local boy who was accompanying us informed that sometimes the difference in time is negligible between on wheels and by foot. It took us more than an hour.

Driver dropped us at the end of the road opposite the village; we were supposed to go on foot from there on. As we started to discuss the remaining journey, a man came to inquire what we were up to. We found out from him that most of the girls from that village worked in a Dolomite mining company few yards away from where we stood. It gave us temporary relief of not having to walk up to the village which appeared closer than it really was.

The girl we were going to see had an experience and worked with two families at two different times in Thimphu. She was carrying seven bricks stacked on her head in a construction site. The site was filled with dolomite dust, heat from the southern sun was on, and the risk of injury did cross my mind.

We waited for her to return to get the next stack of bricks. Her friend informed her (with whom we had conversation in her absence) that we were there to discuss new opportunity for her.

Her response was FLAT no. She would not say why, but insisted on a new stack of bricks for delivery. Her friends told her to hear us out and think about it. She would not. She earned eighty ngultrum per day, we offered her more. Discussed perks, advance payments, and rest. She told us that she would not work for anyone, and particularly not anyone from Thimphu.

We were loosing words of attraction and reasonably better proposal to change her mind. She would not listen and all she said was she did not want to go to Thimphu.  We decided to head back.

In the nearby camp, we talked to the some of the women who knew her and her stories. They told us that she had gone to Thimphu to work for some Dasho, where she worked for nine months. She was deprived of sleep because she had to work late and get up early. She cleaned house, cooked for the family, family gatherings, archery matches, washed clothes, she was abused physically and verbally and worst of all she was made to eat food prepared for pet dogs. So they were told. She ran from that house.

After few months in her home, she was send to another house because additional income was a necessity. Her father was wasted pain in the neck, and mother too sick to do anything. This time they were more promises, more money and less work. She was convinced to give a second shot.

Her stay did not last for few months (four months to be precise) she was accused of stealing, abused in all manners, refused telephone calls to her brother and payment for her work. She fled never to return.

So having heard what she went through, we gave up the idea that she might change her mind. Local boy kept telling us, he will continue to pursue her and we told him he should not.

On our way back, we further probed into her stories. Well we doubted on such cruelty. We could not rule out altogether, story could be true with little exaggeration. We feared what if it was true. Spiteful treatment of human being floated among the dolomite dust throughout our way back home.