What is harder than climbing Mount Everest?

Ans: Talking to my maid.

I am going to vomit blood.

Yes, it's true, attempting to communicate with my new maid is harder than climbing Mount Everest.

I just need to ask her one question, and she will babble a whole string of Malay sentences that I don't understand. And, when I tell her that, she will attempt to explain herself by replying with more Malay sentences that I don't understand.

That day, I told her there was a bee in the room, and asked her to catch it. She asked me whether I wanted to eat bee for breakfast. When I told her yes, please, I would like that very much, she told my other maid (who is going back to her hometown soon) that I wanted to have bee for breakfast, but she had trouble catching bees because bees have wings and bees fly, so how was she supposed to catch them to fry them?

This morning, I asked her where my showering cap was, and she replied by telling me that she cooked sweet potato for breakfast. Two days ago, I told her to wash my sports shoes because I stepped on dog poo, she asked me whether I wanted to bring my sports shoes to the office. Last night, my father asked her to remove the label from his jeans, and she interpreted it as, 'Sir said not to set the alarm first.'

As if that wasn't bad enough, my maid is hard of hearing and REFUSES TO WEAR HER HEARING AIDS. Sometimes, she can hear me perfectly fine, other times when she is 100 cm away from me, and I call her, she doesn't response. I raise my voice by a few notches, and still no response. I could have yelled at the top of my lungs and beat a few gongs and she still wouldn't be able to hear me. Exasperated, I went up to her and waved my hands and she replied, 'Yes?'

The funny thing is when she speaks in Malay, and I ask her what she meant by that, she is able to translate everything she said into English. But, simply is unable or can't be bothered to just speak English directly. Finally, explaining to her for the ten thousandth time in Malay, that my Malay is half-past six and half the time, I have no idea what she is saying, she gave me a reply in Malay. I gave her a blank look and to give her a taste of her own medicine, the next time she spoke to me in Malay, I replied to her in Chinese. I got a blank look.

Communicating with my maid requires the patience of Mother Theresa, because everything that you say has to be repeated ten times. And, still, you don't get the reply that you are looking for.

Example:

Me: 'You make pao (bun) for me for breakfast tomorrow okay?'

Maid: (Blank stare)

Me: 'Hello? You make pao for breakfast tomorrow OK?'

No reply.

Me: 'You make pao for breakfast tomorrow OK!' (repeat 10 times)

Maid: (finally) Why you want to eat papaya so early in the morning?

My father is also not immune to the frustration from talking to the maid.

Example:

Father: I have three pair of socks. There's only two here, where is the missing sock?

Maid: Yes, sir, I have washed the toilet already.

My other maid who is returning to her hometown today (let's call her W), is also not spared from the agony. Once, W was packing her black shoes into a plastic bag, and the new maid approached her and asked, 'What is that? Is that black chicken?'

Another frustrating thing is that my maid takes everything seriously, such that if you serve her with a big spoonful of sarcasm, chances are that it will fly right past her head.

Example:

Me: 'Please remember NOT to put salt into my milo okay?' (I said this because my previous maid went to put salt in my milo, which isn't to my palate's liking)

Maid: 'Oh, so you want me to put salt into your milo next time?'

Me: 'Yes, please. And, while you are at that, please put in tomato ketchup, garlic, onion and tartar sauce in too.'

Maid: (nodding head in enlightenment) 'Oh, okay, okay. So, next time, I make milo, I put tomato sauce inside right...?'

Me: *Faints

Yeah, it's funny, but not so much when you are in my position.