Most Chinese-y thing I did this week

We're supposed to pay our ayi by the last day each month--at least, that's the tradition we've gotten into, which is as good as a law in China. About a month ago, she asked for a raise, mentioning how the cost of living in Beijing is getting higher, and how long she's been working for us. In a letter I left for her to read, I responded that I wasn't aware that time alone necessitates a raise; rather, increase in quality of work over time is something that seems more raise-worthy. I mentioned several areas in which she was slacking, and the following week she wrote back her apologies and conceded the point. I am waiting, however, for the sabotage that is surely being plotted.. subtle sabotage: socks go missing a bit more regularly, weird marks or tears in favorite shirts, etc.

Last week, sitting on the table instead of money, I accidentally left her a bag of week-old defrosted chicken meat. Totally accidental--in running out the door, I spaced and just left the chicken I was meaning to throw out sitting there.. festering. By the time she came in to clean later that day, it must have reeked. Needless to say, it was still sitting there when we got back in the evening, REALLY festering at that point. It's moments like these in Chinese relationships, where a faux pas has been committed and something needs to be done to restore balance to a relationship.

Typically, I would have opted for money. Decent cure-all idea, and something she might have expected, after leaving the chicken there on the table defiantly. Money can be complicated as it leads to expectations about raises. Instead, I went the curry-favor-through-not-so-random-act-of-kindness route, involving an investment of money but more so some thought and in-kind reparations. At the shop today, I purchased a bag of nice jet-fresh mangoes, and deliberately left the weight and price on the bag. Classic Chinese move, people usually don't even try to pretend they forgot to take the tag off; neither did I. To boot, I threw in some Arizona iced tea, an American import and a personal favorite that I fumbled my way through describing as "one of southeast America's favorite summertime beverages." She seemed happy enough, and accepted with a kind of half-refusal--different from the usual 2 to 3 refusals you're offered when folks are actually being polite. Talk of the chicken did not come up. I'm hoping that the case is now closed, and that she's no longer secretly grinding up glass and putting it into our muesli...