Nanny New York Style

After much time, we have found a part time babysitter for our son. Unlike his Tia, this woman is not meant to replace me by any means. Instead she helps me to do a bit more work during two afternoons a week since she picks him up from school and takes him to his Tae Kwon Do. This city, haven or home to so many foreigners, is where nannies of every complexion can be witnessed. The West Indian women with the lilt in their words, Indian women, Filipino women, and the Latinas are the caretakers to countless children, rearing kids who may not yet understand the significance of these women to their lives.

This time out, our nanny is not another Latina, but an East Indian Guyanese. When she told me she was Guyanese, I asked how it was there were Indians in Guyana, formerly known as British Guyana, a country, ironically enough, where my husband spent some time as a child. She answered with a smile on her face, "See, my people--Indians, were slaves brought over to Guyana from India." To which, I could only say, "I see." My post-colonial theorist head was already screeching, "Those f**king Brits," but I figured such an outburst would not have helped me in getting this woman to commit to working for us.

A Hindu woman as a nanny is a first for our family. And with a Hindu in your home, there are many considerations. For instance, on the days she is here, I find myself cooking vegetarian meals or meals with chicken or fish. The whole beef brisket thing seems inappropriate since cows are sacred to them.

One forgets how many Indians live on the Eastern seaboard. With the exception of the short block on Pico where Indian shops selling saris indicates a smallish Indian community, New York and the surrounding cities is home to many, many Indians. My school, not exactly a multicultural place, did have a fair number of East Indian kids by the time I reached high school.

My son is adjusting to having this new addition to his life. There is less resistance to her when she arrives at school to pick him up. Last night, he actually asked she not leave. He, being super color conscious, did point out she was "browner" than he. The significance of his sitter being darker is something I don't understand yet. Perhaps some day I will. But most likely not. That is my greatest regret: to never fully understand his experience of being brown in color. And how that colors the way the world deals with you or not.