I’ve been watching these short videos about women’s lives and migration across different countries. Two in particular stand out: Maid in Lebanon and Maid in Lebanon II by Carol Mansour. We worry a lot about immigrants in the UK – legal and illegal, labour migration, asylum seekers. Now with the economic downturn we’re worrying about who is taking up the jobs, how much room we have, how much money to take in people fleeing violence or persecution.
These two videos are about domestic workers travelling from Sri Lanka to Lebanon. The films document press headlines about the abuse of Sri Lankan maids and compare their situation to slavery. A woman complains to the agency that her maid doesn’t understand their instructions, and that they must therefore communicate “with their hands”. The dynamics between this particular Lebanese woman and her Sri Lankan maid might go something like this: ‘she is dependent on us as a lone woman here, she is from a poor country and is uneducated; we are richer and more educated than her, she is brown-skinned; our children are white-skinned’. These kind of power relations are tied up in race, gender and class, and their combination here precludes even the sense that to hit a maid is wrong – the abuse is dismissed laughingly as “only a light slap”, nothing serious. I think this is a very subtle moment in the film, and I think it leaves us to make our own judgements.
Maid in Lebanon features a Sri Lankan domestic worker caring for an elderly man. It is shot in a way that we just see the maid and the man alone – caring for him seems to be a solitary occupation. There follows an interview with the maid and the woman whom we assume is her employer and the man’s daughter. As the employer goes on, it becomes apparent that the maid’s work is viewed by her employer as a kind of filial love or duty of care – it’s almost as if she’s a member of the family, albeit one who takes on the complete burden of care. The long list of duties is unrelenting: the maid is the person for whom the man calls in the middle of the night, the maid bathes him and gives him medication and so on. Finally, at the close of the video there is a sense that all may not be how the employer views it, there’s an alternative but silent narrative – the maid is shown crying quietly. We connect this visual but silent expression with the household jobs listed earlier, and the impression is of a very different story to the one of love, care and familial duty bestowed upon the situation by the employer.
The terms we use for the countries involved in migration are a “sending” or a “receiving” country. It seems very politically correct, but perhaps it just reinforces the idea that a person choosing to migrate is never either terminally ‘sent’, nor completely ‘received’.

4 responses so far ↓
1 LM (Beirut, Lebanon) // Jan 25, 2009 at 5:21 pm
Thank you AH for this post. Yes, we have problems regarding the way we treat maids in Lebanon. But we are lucky enough to have families who take care of their maids like their own children. The main problem is that when these young sri lanki women come to Lebanon, they often don’t know how to speak english. So communication gets very hard and the road to misunderstandings and abuse is open.
2 Nina // Jan 26, 2009 at 8:22 am
Hi everyone,
I did not see the two films of Carol Mansour, I am going to watch them.
But I also warmly recomend another film on the subject : “Bonne à vendre”, by the lebanese filmmaker Dima Al Joundi. It was shut in french, but an english version may exist.
It is moving, and at the same time it displays very well the mechanism of modern slavery.
With this link you may find a way to get the DVD of the film :
http://www.biennalecinemarabe.org/biennale8/selections_fr.php?p=documentaires&fid=270
3 AH (London, UK) // Jan 26, 2009 at 9:56 pm
Thanks for your comments – the language aspect you rightly point out LM seems to lead to another question for me. I just wonder what kinds of socio-economic shifts in women’s development in countries like Lebanon, Britain and Spain created the gap where this kind of domestic, manual labour is mainly filled by female immigrants. Is every Lebanese, British or Spanish woman out having a career? Won’t we do this work ourselves any more? This Spanish campaign for migration also takes set roles for granted – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H90JId5-MsU. The various labour markets are laid out like a pyramid here, starting with the Spanish woman at the top, needing domestic hired help to care for her elderly father. Everyone’s roles are fixed.
And that illustrates my point again that people migrating between cultures seem to have to move between very narrow social categories, in their jobs, in their ethnic identities in the place they move to, in the educational and economic opportunities open to them. And like the language barriers, that leaves both sides open to prejudice. And Britain is no exception!
Thanks Nina for the link to the documentary, I’ll try and watch it in French – it would be good to see a full-length study of the topic.
4 NGN // Oct 17, 2009 at 3:46 am
Out of curiousity, where did you find Maid in Lebanon II? I’ve been unable to find the full version anywhere.
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