I am a domestic goddess … Yep, while I still work with words for a living, I can add cleaning, ironing, mopping, washing, polishing and so forth in a foreign environment to my repertoire of capabilities.

You see, after 15 months in Doha, Qatar, I now know my scrubbers from my scourers; what the best brand of loo-rolls is and where to find bargains when it comes to keeping a house clean.

I have hands-on experience, and plenty of pairs of rubber gloves (and broken equipment) to show for it.

Now if domestic drudgery is not your thing and you wish to skip or skim (and we’re not talking washing powder or superficial cleaning here) read this blog post, I understand.

After all, Pearl, Pril and the Filipino factor are unlikely to mean much to you if you live outside of the Middle East. They meant nothing to me either just a few months ago.

Regardless of whether you live in New York or New Brighton in South Africa, however, few of us can escape the humdrum of housework.

It’s got to be done …

Navigating the grime and grimble

So, here’s what I, as a new domestic goddess in Doha, have achieved to date. (Can you appreciate how I am talking myself up?) I have learnt how to:

• Choose the correct cleaning agents
• Use cleaning equipment
• Dress appropriately
• Ask for help  
• Change my mindset, and
• Understand the enemy

Spoilt for choice

Qatar has it all when it comes to domestic cleaning products and human resources. It is impeccably clean as visitors often remark.

As an extremely wealthy country (fourth in the world in terms of GDP per capita) and as an international transport hub, the supermarkets are awash with cleaning materials from around the globe.

But sadly, there are few South African household cleaning brands about. Selection of Handy Andy, Skip and Sunlight Liquid equivalents then become a hit-and-miss headache.

I have learnt more about false economy.

Choosing the cheaper products generally led us to discover that the powder didn’t properly clean, the soap failed to lather, the rubber gloves just perished, and cleaning equipment broke.

You have to use twice as much of the product (washing powder, washing up liquid or the like) and/or elbow grease to get the same results as if you’d splashed out a little more on a better brand. (Oh my word, in re-reading this, I am beginning to sound like advertisement for washing powder etc!)

But who’s to know the brand if they are Indian, European, American or whatever or are in Arabic?

As for loo rolls … perhaps a doctoral dissertation in addressing the significance of the vagaries of paper usage for toilet paper will be worth pursuing!

I never realised we could spend so much time discussing and monitoring the pros and cons of each brand (and since they come in packs of 18, it has been a journey of polite endurance).

Asking for help

Eventually, I swallowed my pride, and asked for help.

I reached out to new friends about the how, what, and where of cleaning. This was something I never really had to do in South Africa because I was blessed with a part-time domestic worker. I also knew my Domestos from my detergents.

Filipino factor

In Qatar, having domestic help is the norm. Hundreds of thousands of mainly Filipino workers enter the country to work in the service industry – mainly cleaning for businesses, tourist enterprises and in individual homes.

Each of these migrant workers, as with every permanent resident from outside the country, is here under a sponsorship. (Ironically, I am here on the H’s sponsorship under the classification of “housewife”!)   

Anyway, according to a government website, there are about 160 000 migrant domestic workers, 60% of which are women, living in Qatar. Most are these women are from the Philippines.

The average salary for a domestic worker in Qatar is QAR3 594 a month (that’s about R19 200 at the present exchange rate) or QAR25 to QAR35 an hour (that’s more than R125 to R175 an hour). The minimum wage in Qatar is QAR 1 300, plus QAR 500 for accommodation.

Now you know why I am a domestic goddess.

Cleaning up my attitude

To face the reality of maintaining a hygienic household, I had to have an attitude adjustment.

I would have to put my spoilt South African past behind me. I would have to put on my big girl panties – and apron and gloves – and suck it up.

There was no getting away from it.

I would have to get down and dirty.

And clean!

It didn’t come easily. It has been a journey of trial and error, of avoidance, of humbleness and of learning.

Dressing the part

I fibbed.

I mentioned putting on an apron and gloves for tackling housework. Oh, I use the gloves when it comes to the dishes, the shower, the bath, and toilets (yes, I now clean toilets – I told you, it’s been humbling).

But actually, I go all Jane Fonda-like when it comes to the doing – the folding, dusting, ironing, vacuuming, sweeping, and cleaning.

Housework is my new gym (this was all part of the attitude adjustment). I had to find the benefits of housework beyond that order and good hygiene.

I found exercise.

I have tried to turn housework into a new fitness regime. After all, an hour of vacuuming can burn up to 155 calories.

And so, I stretch, bend, squat and dash my way about our lounge, kitchen, bedrooms, and bathrooms in clothes that allow for ease of movement. It’s not pretty, but I like to think it’s effective.

I am forever mindful, however, that there are better things I could be doing while cleaning drains, mopping floors, and tackling the dust.

My brain goes into overdrive (it’s a pity the body doesn’t always follow suit) in finding solutions for reducing the time and energy spent on these thankless tasks. I have developed new routines and rhythms to ensure a clean scene. (I would much rather be reading a book!)

Finding the right tools

To this end, I have discovered:

• A lightweight, strong-sucking vacuum cleaner is a must (I am bringing my new purchase back to South Africa with me)
• Ready to spray flat floor mops are a key tool of trade because most rooms in the Gulf are tiled. But you need to choose wisely or use very gently (I have managed to break two such pieces already!)
• Microfibres cloths are seriously helpful when it comes to dust

Defeating the enemy

Yes, DUST. Microscopic unseen dust is the Middle East’s number one cleaning enemy.

The dust may be gone today, but it’s back before nightfall.

Nowadays, I rarely look at the temperature in Qatar. Right now, in June, is it is always hot (early 40s, dipping to 28C overnight). Instead, I look at the wind and the AQI – air quality index – and ascertain how much dust will be floating invisibly about.

Of course, the other enemy is PROCRASTINATION.

Unfortunately, DUST has never heard that word and continues to work, day and night.

And so too, does the laundry (I am excellent at folding carefully hung washing in order to skip the need for ironing), along with the dirty dishes etc … it just keeps coming, doesn’t it?

I mean, the house was clean yesterday …. I am sorry you missed it.

A domestic goddess shout out

Someone once said: “We dream of having a clean house – but who dreams of actually doing the cleaning?” 

Not me. Surely, not anyone?

But someone’s got to do it.

So, here’s a special shout out to those men and women who labour long and hard to clean our homes, office spaces and the like.

I have a renewed appreciation of your worth.

Thank you!

PS. This week, I took off my big girl panties, along with my exercise gear, apron, and gloves, and dropped them all into the wash. Then, I confess, I called a lovely Kenyan woman to rescue me. She arrived with her big smile, a mop, and feather duster … and four hours later our home was clean!