Unseen and Often-Exploited Part of Work Force : Mexico’s Indian Domestics Face Abuses

Irma begins her day just as the sun rises over her crowded rooftop community, one of countless groups of tiny shacks perched precariously atop apartment buildings throughout Mexico City.

Irma, 26, is a live-in maid, one of thousands of young Indian women who work for Mexican families. Largely ignored by labor laws, their status is practically nonexistent, and they reflect a deep-seated racial tension that underlies Mexican society.

With at least 56 different indigenous races and cultures and profound social and regional inequalities, the blend of ancient Indian customs and Roman Catholic traditions is often an uneasy one.

Irma and others like her are part of the constant migration to Mexico City’s bright lights. Lured by the promise of abundant work, poor Indians from jobless rural areas are confronted with racial discrimination and a struggle for survival.

Uneducated and without formal training, many women like Irma have no choice but to work as live-in domestics.

They are virtually invisible workers, unseen and unheard. Many know only the confines of their own small, makeshift rooms and the interior of their employers’ homes, where they may work up to 14 hours a day.

“It is no less than a type of slavery, an extreme form of exploitation,” said Graciela Menez, head of the Support Center for Domestic Workers, based in Cuernavaca. “Many of these women spend their entire lives within four walls.”

In Cuernavaca, 35 miles south of Mexico City, some 42,000 women--8% of the total population--are domestic workers. Menez says long hours, poor working conditions, arbitrary dismissal and physical or verbal abuse are a way of life for many domestic workers.

“We try to educate them and make them aware that the work they do is worthwhile, but we are fighting something ingrained in Mexican society and not just the workers and employers,” Menez said.

“For these women, domestic work is their only means of survival. But no one values domestic work as a ‘proper job,’ and the domestic worker is brought up to believe that she is a worthless, second-class citizen.”

“I left Puebla (65 miles east of Mexico City) when I was 15 and came to Mexico City to look for work,” Irma said. “At first I felt lonely, but then my four sisters came and now we are all in the same place.”

Relations between employers and Indian domestic workers is often marred by a mutual lack of trust and understanding, according to Rosavel Vellarde, spokeswoman for the Dutch-funded center in Cuernavaca.

“A lot of employers think that (domestic workers) are their property, belong to them,” Vellarde said. “You can even see this in the names they give them: ‘my servant,’ or ‘my muchacha ‘ (girl).”

In Mexico, where more than 200 different dialects are spoken, loneliness and alienation are often common among the young Indian women. Labor legislation ignores Indian domestic workers, forcing them into an archaic, almost feudal dependence on their employers.

“The law has not been altered for years and reflects the total ignorance of the fact that domestic work is a job like any other,” Vellarde said.

Federal law makes few references to domestic workers and sets out only scant guidelines for employer-worker relationships, leaving salaries and shifts untouched. Vellarde said many employers knowingly exploit the law’s gray areas.

“The law states that domestic workers must receive half their salary in cash and the other half in accommodation and food,” she said. “For many employers, this is an excuse to ignore official wage hikes.”

She said many domestic workers live on less than the stipulated daily minimum wage of about $2.35. There are no laws that specify requirements for domestic workers’ food and accommodation.