Singapore, Manila and my dear Dhory

Sitting at the lobby of The Peninsula Hotel in Makati, I was restlessly waiting for Dhory to arrive. It has been decades since I last saw her, and I was anxious to know how she has been doing. 

When she walked into the lobby, I could immediately recognize her petite physique along with her purposeful walk. Without words, we gave each other a long warm hug that reminded me of the last time we met before she left Singapore. Something didn’t feel quite right. She felt really small. It took me two seconds to realize that I’m all grown up. 

I met Dhory when I was 8 years old and it was her first time outside the Philippines. She started working with my family in Singapore at the age of 19. She had no experience in, or expectation of, the job she was getting into – which was to take care of me. She did, however, bring along her feisty charisma and sense of humor that was carried by her high-pitched laughter. 

My mother, her boss, had the highest standard in managing her household. Dhory was trained to be the chief of staff, and had to manage A-Z our 3-storey household of 5 people and a big German Shepherd. 

I was the youngest in the family and my mother trained Dhory and me on very similar principles but on different tasks. We were both inexperienced, young, and had a lot to prove in the family. 

My confidante, my protector

Through this learning curve, we bonded and became each other’s comfort and encouragement. Despite the challenges she faced (being far away of home, having a strict boss, and lacking in experience), she was determined and picked up the skills very quickly from managing our family parties, taking care of me, learning how to cook, and maintaining our home by hotel standards.

I grew to respect her dedication and perseverance as I knew that if the roles were reversed, I would not have half her stamina. She became my confidante, a sister, a guardian and protector. 

School was hard for me and the expectations were high. My parents were both working and focused on grooming my two much older siblings. Dhory took over the role to ensure I didn’t stray or get lazy.

I depended on her for advice on how to tackle problems with friends, boys, and stress at school. She taught me compassion and empathy for people around me. She reminded me to look beyond the obvious.

I enjoyed spending time with her to the extent that I would spend my Sundays out with her and her friends at Lucky Plaza or the Zoo or Botanical Gardens. 

Dhory was very clear on her goal: she wanted to earn enough money to go back to Philippines to set up her own convenience store. Her “management” role in my home taught her how to manage a budget, optimize cost, keep track of inventory, and provide a high standard of service.

Dhory usually opted out of joining external family dinners or trips, and I knew that it was because she never really felt entirely part of our family. 

When I was old enough to get a monthly allowance, the first thing I did was to take her out to my favorite Teppanyaki restaurant on our birthday (September 9 and 10). We sat in front of the chef and I greedily ordered an expensive dinner set. I said to her, “You are having exactly what I am having.” She accepted it wholeheartedly.

Moving on

Dhory left our household for greener pastures 7 years later. While this broke my heart, I knew it was part of the plan. Every year since she left, she would call me from wherever she was to wish me “happy birthday.” A fews years ago, her family faced a ferocious typhoon and she called me to share her situation. My family and I gathered food, clothing, and other suppliers and sent it across to her.

Fast-track to today, Dhory is over 45, happily married, and retired in the Philippines. She did set up her convenient stores, sold them off, and decided to retire to travel across the Philippines. 

I would only hope to have the same happy-ending when I reach her age. The kindness we’ve shared growing up has made both of us better, hopeful people, and led to our series of successes thus far.

I now have my own 8-year-old daughter, Ashley, and she too, has been co-raised by Filipinos. She shares the same compassion, empathy and kindness to her “yaya” and others.

It warms my heart to say that this kindness seeped through generations. – Rappler.com

Priscilla Han lives in Singapore and is an investment specialist, art café-owner, entrepreneur, investor, mother, and is very passionate about diving, traveling, dogs, dolphins, netball, recycling of furniture, graphic design, Counter Strike, Games of Thrones, food, Bloomberg, Businessweek.