new friend through the window.

In essence, the saying of 'home away from home' is a comforting one, a traveler's creed denoting finding refuge and unadulterated comfort to be one's self, even if they find themselves sleeping on a worn out mattress by the windows of Bangkok, with street lamps and neon signs as nightlight and the sounds of motorbikes the night track to coo you to bed, despite your blonde hair, blue eyes and life accustomed in European allure.

There's always something endearing about friendship forged through serendipity, and much more so among domestic helpers. For my helper and her new found friend, it wasn't trips to the market for groceries or fetching kids to and fro school, but through the kitchen window. Just opposite our kitchen a level below, was another Indonesian helper from the same hometown. I don't know how their unlikely friendship sprouted, but I assume unlikely clockwork that saw them doing chores in the kitchen at around the same time, empathetic nods and smiles that quickly turn into comforting conversations.

From afternoons to afternoons, when I would get out of bed to take a shower, I sometimes hear my helper talking rather loudly in the kitchen, but would be unsure of its receiver. First few times I'd even utter loud 'huh's mid hairwash thinking it was intended for me to hear, of course speaking in her native tongue should be indication I was just a wall that has ears. For someone who has never been away from home for too long, except for the military briefly, and even during that finding someone you can have a familiar conversation with can provide immeasurable catharsis. Hence, I can only imagine the little globule of refuge found in foreign grounds, how immensely hopeful one can feel knowing the comforting presence of a friend just a walk to the kitchen away. This sisterhood firmed when they broke fast together.

This morning when I woke up, an unfamiliar face and commotion situated itself at the front of the kitchen. My helper tearful as her new found compatriot, just next to her in our house making her final farewell as she was to be abruptly sent home. This would be the first and last time I ever saw her.

There's something oddly emptying to know domestic helpers and foreign workers' kismet are so heavily determined by their uncontrolled circumstances, for a hope to build a better life for those miles away back home. In friendship, the deep connections and confidants found can suddenly dissipate, like people living on borrowed time, how unforgiving the morality of the world can be.