Abstract
Hong Kong is residence to around 200,000 Filipina domestic workers who have migrated to the city in order to earn money for their families and futures. The employment of these migrants is organized through temporary two-year contracts. However, since many women stay for ‘multiple contracts’ in Hong Kong, their situation may be better characterized as permanently temporary. In this respect, scholars have coined the term ‘permanent temporariness’, signifying both a specific experience of temporal or circular migration, as well as a sort of disciplinary mechanism that informs people’s everyday lives. Lacking in these understandings, however, is a solid theoretical exploration of the temporal dimension. Based on ethnographic work, individual and group interviews, this article attempts to further the theoretical discussion on permanence and temporariness by focusing on the ‘lived time’ of Filipina domestic workers in Hong Kong. The article discusses how temporariness and permanence are enacted and experienced in the everyday lives of Filipina workers, how these women reflect on and cope with this, and, how this informs everyday life decisions and negotiations with employers. The study indicates that engaging permanently in temporary labour involves many uncertainties that are reflected in the domestic workers’ experiences and decisions with respect to their migration trajectories.
Introduction
While traditionally used in questions of migration as shifting from temporary to permanent settlement, issues of permanence and temporariness have recently gained renewed interest (Collins, 2011). Today, an increasing number of migrants are employed on temporary contracts or under temporary admission schemes. Especially in the Asia-Pacific region, where cities like Singapore and Hong Kong attract large numbers of temporary migrants, migration is characterized by ‘temporality and circularity’ (IOM, 2015). Among temporary labour migrants are professional workers, but the majority consists of low-income workers (Hugo, 2009). For them, the temporary nature of their employment contracts, restrictions on staying long term and at the same time the lack of jobs in their place of origin may more often than not result in long-term temporary or circular migration patterns. Because of low-paid jobs it is hard to gather sufficient savings. In addition to this it may be the only family income available. Therefore, they often end up working in their host countries for multiple temporary contracts spanning several years and thus a significant part of their working lives. In theory these migrants can be classified as temporary, however, in practice the extended duration of stay may be such that it could be conceived of as permanent.
The rise of temporary and circular migration trajectories can be understood in the context of flexible labour markets and a high geographic mobility of the workforce, especially of low-income workers and high-skilled professionals (Anderson and Rogaly, 2007; Hugo, 2009). Globally, nations benefit from temporary migration as it affords great flexibility and in the case of economic downturn, the number of workers in the labour market can be reduced fairly easily. Cities especially, as drivers of the global economy, attract large numbers of (temporary) migrants, both high as well as low-income workers (Sassen, 2001). But temporary migration has different implications for different groups of workers migrating abroad. As emphasized in ‘mobilities’ research (e.g. Cresswell, 2010), people move under differently enabling and constraining circumstances and thus their move comes with different experiences. Professionals may benefit from ‘expat compensation packages’, including a high salary and allowances for relocation, housing, healthcare or home travel, which enables them to experience fast and flexible lifestyles (see for example, Elliott and Urry, 2010). This is in stark contrast to low-income workers whose migration is circumscribed by other, often stricter conditions of stay, and who receive low wages and bad working conditions (Hugo, 2009). Thereby, these groups differ substantially in terms of the treatment and inclusion into local urban society (Collins, 2011).
Temporary migrant status of low-income workers often goes hand in hand with substantial temporal restrictions of migration. At least partly, these temporal restrictions derive from policies ‘that distinguish temporary migrants from more permanent ones’ (Collins, 2011: 321–322). Besides the temporary nature of employment visas, such policies furthermore include exclusion from family reunion and no prospect of gaining permanent citizenship. Low wages and strict working conditions may further aggravate temporal restrictions, as they put pressure on discretionary time. Such conditions not only inform long-term migration trajectories but may also constrain migrants in their everyday lives. In their research on temporary Salvadoran migration in the US, Bailey et al. (2002) introduce the concept of ‘permanent temporariness’, to signify both ‘the static experience of being temporary’ and the disciplining power of a temporary status (Bailey et al., 2002: 139). As argued elsewhere (Collins, 2011), it is necessary to further extend research on permanence and temporariness, particularly in the context of the temporalities imbued in migration regimes that are designed to limit migrants’ rights and inclusion in the host societies.
A major theme that requires further investigation is the impact of the temporal restrictions of migration regimes on the qualitative experiences of temporary migrants (Parreñas, 2010). With respect to migrants who are suspended between permanence and temporariness, what is lacking is a comprehensive understanding and theorization of their temporal experiences. To further insights into such temporal experiences of migration, this article draws on empirical research on lived time (Lefebvre, 2004 [1992]) of Filipina domestic workers in Hong Kong, who are employed on two-year contracts, but often stay on for ‘multiple contracts’. The aim of the article is to show how temporariness and permanence associated with their migration trajectories are enacted and experienced in the everyday lives of Filipina domestic workers in Hong Kong; how they reflect on and cope with these experiences of permanence and temporariness; and, how anticipations of temporariness and permanence inform (everyday) life decisions and negotiations with employers. Thereby the focus is on everyday experiences of time that emerge in relation to their temporary employment as domestic worker in Hong Kong.
Domestic workers in Asia have been intensively studied, for instance, with respect to their working and living conditions and vulnerable position in host societies (e.g. Constable, 1997; Yeoh and Huang, 2010), and their position in the global care economy (e.g. Parreñas, 2001).
Domestic workers in Hong Kong experience different temporal constraints. They are employed on two-year contracts and cannot apply for permanent residency. This is in contrast to immigrants in other jobs, who can apply for a permanent residence permit after seven years of uninterrupted residency. 1 Another temporal constraint is imposed by the ‘two-week rule’ that is part of their visa conditions (Hong Kong Immigration Department, 2015). This rule implies that once their contract ends (prematurely) they have two weeks to find a new employer, before they need to leave Hong Kong. Finally, except for the right to one full rest day a week, there are no regulations on working hours. Conceivably these constraints have a significant impact on their experiences of time, and specifically permanence and temporariness.
The article starts with a theorization of permanence and temporariness from a time perspective. The third section contains in-depth information about the situation of Filipina domestic workers in Hong Kong and methods used in this research. After that, the article elaborates how permanence and temporariness come to the fore in (experiences of) time in the everyday life of Filipina domestic workers. The article is supported by empirical material from ethnographic work and individual and group interviews with 44 female domestic workers, as well as information retrieved from working at the Mission for Migrant Workers. 2
Time, permanence, temporariness
For a long time, migration was typically conceived as permanent in nature, with little interest in questions of return (or temporary) migration (Baas, 2015). A classical understanding of the concepts of temporariness and permanence in migration studies draws from the shift from temporary to permanent migration, whereby migrants who initially stayed in a host country with the intention, or under the condition, of leaving after a number of years, eventually become permanent settlers (Griffiths et al., 2013). In this understanding, temporariness and permanence are fixed categories that can be assigned as a certain status. They are used as ‘denominators’, temporal qualities ascribed to (series of) events, for instance when constructing individual histories of migration. However, the distinction between permanent and temporary migration does not hold in the context of transnational lifestyles – in which questions of permanence and temporariness may be up for discussion (Baas, 2015). Also, these traditional conceptualizations of temporariness and permanence are associated with a linear understanding of time.
Contemporary social theorists have argued that time is not just linear, but should be conceived as plural, consisting of overlapping temporalities (Adam, 2004; Bryson and Deery, 2010; Davies, 2001). This implies that activities each define their own time frame (e.g. times of migration or care time) and that time use can have different meanings (e.g. family time or time for slowing down; see Cwerner [2001] on times of migration). Bodies have their own times and rhythms, which inform us when we are hungry or ageing. Circular migration emphasizes that migration can entail multiple cycles and such a conceptualization is beneficial for understanding (re-)migration patterns or participation in social life in home or host societies. This connects with task-oriented time. Besides migration, domestic work and especially care can benefit from such an understanding of time, because of their unpredictability and open-endedness (Bryson and Deery, 2010). While on the one hand task-oriented time matters in everyday life, tasks may also extend into life course trajectories. For migrant workers, labouring overseas for multiple years can be conceived as a continuous act of caring for their families at home. The time needed to fulfil their families’ (monetary) needs may be an important factor of return migration, indicative of how long their situation of permanent temporariness will last. Temporalities of different tasks or events may overlap, but may also conflict.
In (everyday) life, people actively try to ‘weave together’ these multiple, overlapping times (Davies, 2001). Temporary migrants engage in different kinds of (everyday) life projects that interact and together shape experiences of time. Thereby, they are not only living (in) the moment, but, through their actions, plans, hopes and fears, memories and expectations, also link the present to the past and the future. This understanding of relational time is of particular interest to the permanence–temporariness debate because it emphasizes that permanence and temporariness are not just labels, but may be actively pursued and experienced. ‘Lived time’, as experienced by individuals in its different forms, is considered an important dimension for understanding time in people’s everyday lives (Lefebvre, 2004 [1992]). In her research on return migration of Portuguese migrants in Germany, Klimt (1989: 59) talks of ‘the experience of being suspended between temporariness and permanence’ as these migrants ‘locate their futures and their “homes” in Portugal while leading a daily and long-term existence in Germany’. While in Klimt’s understanding, permanence is still something that is located ‘out there’ in a linear sense, Bailey et al. (2002) show that experiences of time go beyond linearity. With their concept of ‘permanent temporariness’ they describe an experience of ‘being temporary’ and being excluded from different kinds of life projects. Furthermore, knowing of their situation of permanent temporariness, the Salvadoran migrants in Bailey et al.’s study employ different strategies to resist the regulations conditioning their temporary status, including the duration of their stay. People thus strategically shift or negotiate different temporalities that they experience (Davies, 2001) in order to resist or create (un)desired (temporal) conditions.
Thus, experiences of time are sensations in themselves: they give meaning to our everyday lives and life course and provide direction to our future actions. By transforming undesired situations into preferred ones, people can actively strive for something to be permanent or temporary. Time is thus an ‘active presence’ (Harvey, 2007) that is experienced, shapes and is shaped by individuals. In order to fully understand what it means for migrants to be ‘permanently temporary’ we need to delve deeper into their experiences of temporariness and permanence and explore these as individual concepts. This knowledge is essential if we want to understand how temporalities of migration trajectories actually discipline and/or constrain a migrant’s everyday behaviour and decision-making with respect to their migration trajectories.
Understanding permanence and temporariness as lived time
At first glance, permanence and temporariness may seem opposite concepts. A closer look into the origin of the words shows the complex meanings involved. Permanence and temporariness reflect a temporal quality of events or situations, but also have an experiential dimension. Both meanings are important for understanding how permanence and temporariness are enacted and experienced in everyday life.
In the Oxford Dictionary, the word permanence is described as ‘a state or quality of lasting or remaining unchanged indefinitely’ (2015). An interesting element of this definition is the word ‘indefinitely’, which refers to an indeterminate period of time. This suggests that the term permanence is on the one hand an indication of ‘fixity’ or ‘stability’; on the other hand, it is undecided how long it will last. The word permanence originates in the Latin permanēo (per = ‘through’ and maneo = ‘I remain’), that is translated (among others) as ‘I endure, I stay to the end, I survive, last, continue’ or ‘I persist, persevere’ (Lewis and Short, 2015 [1879]). These different meanings of permanēo give an indication of how to conceive of permanence as an experience of time. Also, they seem to reflect a tension between the word fixity and undecidedness of an event or situation.
The word temporary is described as ‘lasting for only a limited period of time’ (Oxford Dictionaries, 2015). It stems from the Latin word tempus (time) or temporarius, which is translated as (among others) ‘suited to/built for the occasion, transitory/temporary; with time limit’ or ‘lasting but for a time, changeable’ (Lewis and Short, 2015 [1879]). The quality of temporary is thus not only an indication of time, but also implies liability to variation or the ability to be changed. This seems to contrast with permanence; however, the indeterminacy of permanence implies not that it is not changeable, only that it is not predefined beforehand if and when something changes.
As lived time then, permanence could be understood as a sense of stability and certainty, but also as feeling confined to a certain situation or particular circumstances, especially when there is no prospect about when the situation might change (indeterminacy). While in the first example, permanence may be experienced as something positive, the latter example can have more negative associations. In this case, permanence indeed may be associated with feelings of endurance, survival and perseverance. Temporariness, on the other hand, may be experienced as uncertainty but also as flexibility. Significant in temporariness is the anticipation that something will end within a limited time, which again can have either a positive (e.g. one-time investment, such as a PhD) or negative (e.g. lack of job stability) association. In the end, the desirability of that which will be permanent or temporary at least partly structures (positive and/or negative) experiences of temporariness and permanence. In response to these experiences of permanence and temporariness, people may try to pursue a particular duration, repetition, temporal order or (dis)continuation of things. Thereby, they can create their own situations of permanence and temporariness in their (everyday) lives.
Filipina domestic workers in Hong Kong
Hong Kong has been facilitating the inflow of foreign domestic workers since the 1970s (Hong Kong Labour Department, 2016). With the expansion of the service economy, imported domestic labour enabled the release of a potential Hong Kongese female (middle-class) labour force from their domestic duties and, thus, their inclusion in the labour market (Wee and Sim, 2005). Since then, the number of overseas domestic workers has risen steadily to over 360,000 (98% female) in 2017, of which 54% were Filipina, 44% Indonesian, and the remaining 2% were from countries such as Thailand, Sri Lanka, India or Myanmar (Census and Statistics Department Hong Kong Special Administrative Region, 2018). The presence of foreign domestic workers contributes significantly to the local economy, as they take over domestic duties and (child) care from the local labour force which is often already short in time. Like other low-income (migrant) workers around the world, they take over the ‘time deficit’ or ‘care deficit’ (Bryson, 2007; Ehrenreich and Hochschild, 2004) of Hong Kong’s middle- and higher income groups. While both contributing to the local economy and the reproductive labour of Hong Kong, it has been argued that the domestic workers themselves are denied their reproductive rights (Parreñas, 2001). After all, those who stay abroad for a longer time are unable to raise their own families.
At the end of 2013, it was estimated that little over 10 million Philippine nationals lived abroad, of which 48% had a permanent status, 41% with temporary status and 11% ‘irregulars’, i.e. not documented or overstaying their visas (Philippine Statistics Authority, 2015). Unemployment and underemployment are major issues in the Philippines. In 2016, 48.2% of youth (15–24 years old) were unemployed, while the nationwide underemployment rate was almost 20% (OECD/Scalabrini Migration Centre, 2017). As noted by Parreñas (2005), social and economic instability together with a lack of service provision shape the context in which Filipina workers make the decision to migrate for the sake of their own and their family’s well-being. Thereby, they may depart from their current job and forsake their educational credentials. In Hong Kong, domestic workers earn a minimum wage of HK$4410 (approximately €450 or US$550) per month (Hong Kong Immigration Department, 2017), whereas the average monthly wage in the Philippines is US$215 (€160) (ILO, 2014).
In Hong Kong, domestic workers are subject to a live-in rule. Employers need to provide shelter and food (or a monthly food allowance). Domestic workers have the right to one rest day a week (24 hours), as noted above, public holidays and annual leave (starting from 7 days, and increasing by one extra day a year until a maximum of 14 days). In principle, domestic workers are required to take leave before they can start their renewed contract. They may choose to accumulate their leave days and go on leave only once every two years. With respect to their working days, working hours are unregulated and, in the privacy of their home, employers can wield considerable power over domestic workers (Boersma, 2016; Yeoh and Huang, 2010). In the case a contract is terminated or not renewed, domestic workers have two weeks to find a new employer and/or process a new contract, before their visa expires and they have to leave Hong Kong (Hong Kong Immigration Department, 2017). The difference between the treatment of ‘domestic helpers’ – the official term 3 – and high-paid expats becomes strikingly clear because of the high visibility of both these groups, often in co-presence, in Hong Kong’s public spaces.
The article is supported with empirical material from in-depth interviews, focus groups and ethnographic work. A total number of 12 participants took part in in-depth interviews. These participants were recruited via snowball sampling. Furthermore, via the Mission for Migrant Workers I was introduced to two social groups. I joined these two groups on their day off over the course of the summer in 2015 for a period of four months. With their help I recruited 32 participants for the focus groups (amounting to a total of 44 respondents). Interviews were conducted in English, no interpreters were used. The interviews were recorded and transcribed. After that, data were coded (using qualitative data analysis software MAXQDA) and analysed following Strauss and Corbin’s (1990) principles.
The women who participated in the interviews were 27–54 years old and most of them were married and/or had (1–4) children, both young and older ones. Their duration of stay in Hong Kong ranged between 5 months and 23 years. Some women had already been employed as a domestic worker or in another low-income job elsewhere, e.g. Taiwan or Singapore, before coming to Hong Kong. For the sake of anonymity, respondents have been given pseudonyms and any information that could identify them has been obscured.
Between permanence and temporariness
Unpredictable migration trajectories
Hong Kong’s migration policies allow for domestic workers to renew their contract multiple times. While the domestic workers are in principle employed on two-year contracts, for many it is a likely possibility that they will stay longer. Conceivably, the migration trajectories of Filipina domestic workers in Hong Kong are – from their perspective – rather unpredictable. It is yet undecided how often they will renew (with the same or a different employer) and how long they will stay on as domestic workers. For some of the women in this research, multiple renewals of their temporary contract eventually led to a long-term stay. They had renewed their contract so often that their actual stay exceeded 10 or even 20 years. In this sense, their migration takes on a more permanent character.
The main reason for renewing their contract has to do with their financial situation and changing needs of their (extended) families. Also, some women carry an extra financial burden as they still have to pay off the loan they took to cover the high recruitment and/or agency fees. It may take months or even years before such loans are paid off (Hugo, 2009).
Especially women who had been working as domestic workers in Hong Kong for a shorter period (up to 4 years) indicated that they experienced difficulties saving money and that this difficulty was (partly) caused by changing financial needs. Earning money takes time, they explained, especially with children in school or college: ‘[E]very time they are growing up, their finances are growing up also’ (Wanda, 38). Likewise, having care-dependent parents or sick relatives in need of financial support can lead to a continuation of the employment as domestic worker. ‘Earning money’ and care have their own particular ‘open-ended’ time frames. They are hard to plan beforehand and change over time, sometimes due to unexpected events. Sara (35), who has been working in Hong Kong for 12 years, was supposed to go back this coming June so that she could start her own family: … but because my mother is sick, so only three of us are working. So we have to share what my mother needs. So I asked my husband, can I finish one more year so that I can support her. … So my husband, he still wants me to work here.
The need for physical and emotional care (nursing) of relatives can, however, also lead to the unplanned decision to go home, as in the case of Nanette (43), who prematurely terminated her contract with her employer so that she could go and take care of her mother. The unpredictable nature of these events adds to the indeterminacy and duration of their employment as domestic worker.
This unpredictability is reflected in the domestic workers’ experiences with respect to their long-lasting migration trajectories. Although many of the domestic workers in this research had come to Hong Kong with some kind of idea of how many years they would stay, their prospects changed over time. While their estimations of the duration of their stay in Hong Kong beforehand had ranged from two to four years, they ended up staying much longer. Elma (45) came to Hong Kong in her twenties and has worked in Hong Kong almost 23 years, with a 17-month ‘break’ when she got pregnant with her second child. When she got asked if she had expected to stay so long beforehand, she said: Nooo! Because I am working in the municipality [in the Philippines], I said, I want to have a house only. Then I wanted to come back, maybe after two years, three years only. But after this contract, I renewed. And then after that, renew again. Ah! I didn’t expect. … And then I don’t want to go home anymore.
Elma continued to explain: … I want to work in Hong Kong. I stayed in the Philippines also for 1 year and 5 months, because I was pregnant with my second child. Then afterwards I said … you start a business, like this, like this … my sister, so many people they say you open a restaurant or something, you try and start a business. But it’s even more hectic than this one [employment as a domestic worker]. I said, I prepare to go back to Hong Kong. Because the income is already there.
The main reason for Elma to come back to Hong Kong was because of the relatively stable income offered by the domestic worker’s job. This contrasts with the situation in the Philippines, where getting a job is considered as ‘taking a risk’ (Nancy, 29). Even if they find a job, their income might be unstable, as indicated by Jenna (51), who worked for the government and received an honorarium in return for her work, on an irregular basis.
Lasting temporariness
[W]ell everyone here, they are dreaming of going home one day. It is just a matter of time. (Jenna, 51)
That domestic workers in Hong Kong will leave one day is out of the question. From the outset, their stay is arranged to be temporary. At some point in time, all women will have a plan or expectation about when they go ‘home’ to the Philippines. It may seem logical that women who have been employed as domestic workers (either in Hong Kong and/or elsewhere and/or in different jobs) for a longer period can better anticipate how long they will continue their employment. However, the moment that the prospect of going home appears on the horizon differs among women. Women who have (young) children have different reasons to go home than those who are single. Carmen has worked as domestic worker for 10 years. Approximately two years ago she met her fiancé when she was on leave in the Philippines in between contracts. From that moment onwards, she has been saving most of her salary for herself – as opposed to giving everything to her family. She is smiling when she says, ‘from May I will finish my contract and then I’m getting married and go back’.
Until domestic workers have made a decision, it remains unclear when they will leave Hong Kong. It is not uncommon that even after 10 years, women have no clear prospects of their future. While for Carmen (42) it took 10 years, after 12 and respectively 20 years of employment abroad Bernice (41) and Elma (45) still had no concrete indication of how long they would remain employed as domestic workers in Hong Kong or when they would migrate back to the Philippines. The only thing they are certain about is that their contract expires after two years.
Thus, while they arrived with the idea that their migration would be temporary, in practice, the temporariness is extended over and over again. They are on temporary contracts, but their employment as domestic worker becomes a permanent job. The lasting temporariness and the uncertain course of their migration trajectory is reflected in the women’s prospects of their return migration. This becomes particularly apparent when discussing their nearby and far away futures. The arrangement of the employment of domestic workers in temporary contracts gives them an uncertain future outlook. They are not sure when they can return home for good, nor are they certain if they can renew their contract. Many women who were halfway through or nearing their current employment period had an idea about what they would do after the current contract: renew with the same employer, find a different employer or (try to) return home for good. However, some women hardly (dared to) look beyond the two-year period of their contract. When asked about their future, unmarried women sometimes joked about finding a boyfriend and returning home. When asked how long they planned to stay on and work as domestic workers in Hong Kong, a lot of ‘maybes’ were voiced. With a few exceptions, their answers were imbued with uncertainty.
Maybe … just three years? It’s enough. If I finish three years, it’s enough. (Camelia, 29) Ah-ah [she seems slightly offended by the question]?! I am thinking maybe two more contracts … two more … (Vicky, 52)
While Camelia has been working in Hong Kong for only five months, Vicky’s (52) response shows a similar uncertainty, even though she has been in Hong Kong for 14 years, and before that in Saudi Arabia for another four years.
While some women were comfortable talking about when they planned to go home, for others this clearly was a difficult topic. Sometimes, the atmosphere suddenly changed when asking the question how long they planned to stay and work as a domestic worker. In these cases, the women felt clearly uncomfortable or upset. During one of the group meetings, Wanda (38) stated: ‘If I have a lots of money, I stop’, however, when asked when that moment would arrive, she replied ‘No … I don’t know’, followed by an awkward silence between herself and her friends, who seemed to share her experience.
Bernice (41) also has an elaborate history of overseas employment. After nine years of working in a nursing home in Taiwan, she had been working as a domestic worker in Hong Kong for almost three years. When asked if she was thinking of going back to the Philippines, she responded: By now? [her face looks utterly serious] I don’t think so, because I have to earn money, so that I have to control myself. Yeah, I have to earn.
Then she said: … maybe after I finish my contract, in 2016.
But later she again indicated uncertainty: Still working … ai! I don’t know until when!
Late December 2015, Bernice renewed her contract for another two years.
Feelings such as those shared by Bernice and Vicky reflect how the open-ended nature of their stay in Hong Kong becomes part of their experiences and anticipations for the future. During their long-lasting employment as domestic worker, they have re-evaluated and re-adapted to their time horizons multiple times. The notion that their stay in Hong Kong is temporary does not fit with the reality of the longevity of their employment. They know that their employment in Hong Kong is only a temporary situation, but at the same time it is a permanent one. This tension manifests as severe feelings of unsettledness among some of the workers. Thereby, they clearly feel that their agency with respect to creating desired future outcomes is limited. This is not surprising since their decision to stay depends on different aspects that are difficult to control.
Nonetheless, the indeterminacy that follows the temporary arrangement of their employment in Hong Kong is not necessary negatively experienced. Indeed, working abroad, far away from family and domestic responsibilities can also have a liberating effect (Parreñas, 2001). As Constable (1997) explains, some domestic workers may become so comfortable in Hong Kong, that it has become the place where they feel most at home. Also, the kind of ‘home’ that awaits them in the Philippines differs among domestic workers. There are some who have built a house for their retirement in the Philippines (Erin). Carmen is getting married and has a chance of creating a home of her own, however Allie (51) does not have a home in the Philippines. She has been in Hong Kong for 23 years and has worked for the same employer for the last 18 years. Allie is happy in Hong Kong. She explains that she is single and not troubled by worries about her parents or a family of her own. She does not know exactly when she will go back yet, but this does not seem to bother her: … yes, yes, we [me and my employer] are happy together. Since 1996 I work with her [my current employer], up till now. And now I have decided, until my retirement, ha-ha, yes.
Mantras, pep talks and prayers
The Filipina domestic workers who participated in this research employ different kinds of strategies to deal with their prolonged situation of staying abroad and experience indeterminacy differently as well. While Allie mainly experienced a sense of freedom with respect to her migration, the majority of domestic workers in this research emphasized the difficult feelings involved. Experiences of their long-lasting migration trajectories are informed by a number of things they have to endure and live with. For instance, it means that the women may have to put aside their own ambitions and desires in life. They may have to accept that they are employed as a domestic worker for a substantial part of their working lives and are unable to work in a job they were educated for. Also, for years, they are unable to regularly spend time with their children and relatives. The course of their migration trajectories thus impacts their (desired) life course. With this in mind, the permanent character of their temporary employment and the uncertainty involved may become particularly burdensome.
Caught between an uncertain future in the Philippines and an uncertain existence as domestic worker in Hong Kong, women employ different kinds of strategies, including acts of self-discipline and self-control. When asking Nancy (29) about her everyday activities and whether she has fun cleaning her employer’s house, she starts talking about her job and how she deals with her long-term employment as domestic worker. She has been in Hong Kong for six years and expects to stay a couple of contracts more: And since I don’t have a job and this is the job available so I take it and I have to love my job. And I think I love my job. Of course I would not get bored, because if I would get bored then I would be like ‘poor me, I am cleaning!’ and I would feel much … and maybe I cannot finish one year or two year. I would just think of that, ‘oh my job is so low, I am cleaning bathrooms, I am washing the clothes of others!’ But then of course, my outlook is not like that. I have to … this is, this is what I need to do, unfortunately. I have to think of my family and doing this not just for me. … I am doing this for my family, to help them, to … because in the Philippines you’re poor, so I have to help my family and every week I would send them money.
Almost all women shared Nancy’s conviction that being employed as a domestic worker and spending a long time abroad and away from their family is something they need to do for their families. Sentiments similar to Nancy’s were expressed regularly during the interviews. While this could be conceived as an expression of their strategy to get round life, sometimes such expressions came out so easily that it appeared almost a mantra-like repetition, a rationale for coping with the situation they were in. Different women, for instance, referred to the ‘sacrifice’ they had to make for their families: I will have to sacrifice my time and myself for my future. I am not sure if they can have a good education, that they can have a comfortable life. You need to sacrifice, if you want, you know … because you cannot have both priorities at the same time. (Jenna, 51)
After working abroad for 10 or 20 years, domestic workers may be skilled in coping strategies. They may even gain strength from knowing that there is a large transnational community of Filipina nationals working abroad, who are in the same uncertain situation and making similar sacrifices. Bernice talks about the ‘common reason’ and the ‘common situation’ of overseas Filipina workers (OFWs): As for myself, as an OFW, just put yourself in a common situation. Just think why you are here and put yourself in an enjoyable thing, just, how do you call … We are here to earn money for our family and to spend it wisely.
However, this rationale does not hold when talking of her future. For some domestic workers, such as Bernice, with each contract renewal come such difficult feelings. When they sign, they sign for another two years of being separated from their families, another two years of enduring harsh working conditions, and another two years of uncertainty. While standing strong for her family, Bernice says, tears are welling up in her eyes: ‘[s]ometimes, when I have got some difficult situations. … Until when do I have to suffer this, until when I have to suffer … away from them?!’
Some women, particularly those who had been employed for only a couple of years, clearly struggled with their unfortunate situation away from home for an indeterminate period. The gravity of their situation seemed to ‘haunt’ them in everyday life. When discussing the difficulty of not knowing when to go home for good, and asking if they thought about this during the week or during the day, Bobbi (35) and Wanda (38) responded forcefully: Every day. (Bobbi) Of course. (Wanda)
To deal with this uncertainty, they explained giving themselves pep talks, such as:
‘I can do this, I can finish’ (Wanda, 38), ‘Yes, me also I can do this, I can do this with the help of the Lord’ (Bobbi, 35), ‘I’m a survivor … ! I am a strong woman’ (Imogen, 38) and ‘If anybody can do it, why not … I am also a strong woman. Make it a challenge’ (Moira, 38). Others try to ‘distract’ themselves from any unpleasant feelings, about the work or their family by playing music or by creating a busy schedule, like Margot (39): ‘I make myself busy so that I cannot remember my family in the Philippines.’ It may be noted here that women use the word ‘survivor’ and ‘surviving’, which signifies feelings of endurance of their prolonged situation as domestic worker. Thus, it reflects the experience of permanence they are struggling with.
Furthermore, many Filipina domestic workers gain strength from their religion. Some women are able to go to church and incorporate prayers or reading the Bible in their everyday schedule. Their faith gives them meaning to their jobs as domestic workers. But mostly, it gives them strength when feeling unhappy in their everyday lives, and strength to endure staying abroad for a long time, being separated from their families.
So, but you know, faith in God is the best. You have to believe in God, believe in something, you all together, free together and then you can achieve, I think. … Of course we think, ‘ah life is not the same’, it’s very … but afterwards if you read the Bible or you serve God then you feel relieved. That’s why most of us, … we go to the church to recharge ourselves. So we have the weapon at least one week to survive. Yeah, that is our weapon. It gives us the strength to do everything, yeah. To survive, yes. (Elma, 45)
Moreover, while dealing with uncertain future prospects, women seem to gain some relief or hope from putting their fate in the hands of God. Besides indicating their own hopes and expectations about their futures, various women added phrases like ‘I am praying for it’ (Sara, 35), ‘I am praying for my future’ (Gloria, 36) or ‘God’s Will’ (Margot, 39).
Negotiation, discipline, temporariness
Although being employed as domestic workers may not be their first choice, women do cherish their jobs because they feel it guarantees a relatively stable family income that they would not have in the Philippines. They feel this way despite the fact that employment regulations do not offer much stability. Both employers and domestic workers are able to terminate the employment contract. Officially, they need to give one month’s notice, but it does occur that contracts get terminated with immediate effect. Relatedly, from the day of termination of the contract the Hong Kong visa remains valid for another two weeks. Within this period, as noted earlier, a domestic worker may find a new employer, but if that does not work out she has to leave. After going home she can again apply to become a domestic worker in Hong Kong. However, this often costs money as applicants may have to pay administrative fees to the employment agency.
Because most domestic workers want to hold onto their jobs, terminating their contract themselves is a last resort and most women will try to fulfil their two-year contracts. ‘Waiting’ for their contract to end provides an easy and, mainly, inexpensive escape if they are unsatisfied with their current employers. In this case, they are able to start looking for a new employer before their current contract ends. They are allowed to apply for a change of employer four weeks prior to expiry of the current contract (Hong Kong Immigration Department, 2017). This leaves them more time to find a new employer, and thereby they can minimize the risk of having to leave Hong Kong. Furthermore, the fact that their contract is only a two-year temporary agreement gives the women something to look forward to when they are experiencing unpleasant working conditions or an unpleasant relationship with their employers. Evelyn is working 18 hours a day under poor conditions. She often considers breaking her contract, but her employer tries to make her stay. Evelyn (38) also prefers to finish the two years, because she does not dare take the risks involved in breaking the contract herself. In this case, the temporariness of the contract also gives a sense of flexibility: So many times that I really asked her that I want to break the contract. It’s not just once, not just twice, maybe ten times already. Every time I say ‘ma’am, I want to break the contract because I don’t like this’, she will lie low. … I will try to finish the contract, but my ma’am will never change. So I said I just finish this contract and then find another [employer].
At the same time, fear of premature termination by their employer limits the domestic workers’ agency. This is not only because of possible financial burdens, but also because of the possibly negative temporal outlook it involves. With termination they risk losing their family income. Casey (44) is being maltreated by her employer, who is in violation of several employment regulations. Nonetheless, she does not want to confront her employer or terminate her contract. Instead, she fears being terminated by her employer: Last time she treated me like … From Wednesday until Saturday I don’t have breakfast anymore. So … so, I argue, I’m asking for my food allowance. Then she told me that she will break the contract already, she will terminate me, just because of the food. Then she said, ok, if you want to work again, if you want to continue, I ask you to work for my son in Kowloon. Because her daughter in law got pregnant, so she asked me to go there and work. Since that she wants to terminate me, that’s why I have to go there and work.
This fear of losing their job seems to be an important reason why some women are reluctant to speak up to their employers. They realize that it is better to obey their employer, if they want to finish the two years. For instance, it is not uncommon that, on their rest day, domestic workers are still required to work. On their rest day, the majority of domestic workers leave their employer’s house to meet fellow migrants in public parks and at other venues such as churches. However, many are required to work before they leave and after they come back, while they know that they officially have the right to 24 hours of rest. When asked during one of the group interviews if they confront their employer with this, they explained: Because I am scared also. Because I hear a lot of experiences, based on my long time here, 22 years already, I have a lot of experience. Before I complete [the contract] to my employer, ‘OK, pack all your things’, they will tell me. ‘Madam you can read in the contract. In the contract it is stated that the helper has a 24 hours holiday.’ But before they ask me, please come back [on your rest day]. Because no one will take care of my son. You must come back at 2 o’clock. (Hedwig, 50) Sometimes, when my employer tells me can you please come back at this time? I say Ok. First, you must say yes, even though it’s not good to your heart, but you must follow. We know that they are your boss. (Tamar, 29)
In the case where employers breach the regulations of their contract (such as forcing domestic workers into working in places other than the house where they are registered) or are abusive, domestic workers can report this to the Immigration Department or Labour Department in Hong Kong (depending on the type of breach) (Hong Kong Immigration Department, 2016). There are a range of non-profit organizations that offer legal assistance to domestic workers in these situations. However, it is difficult for domestic workers to process a legal case against their employers. There are different complications, such as finding shelter and providing sufficient evidence. A major constraint is that they are not allowed to work while involved in a legal case. This means that during this time they do not have an income and, since they are unsure of the outcome of their case, they do not know if they will receive financial compensation. The processing of a case can take months. Domestic workers often feel they do not have the time for this, while for employers this might be less of an issue. Thus, they end up settling for financial compensation below the legally required, terminate the process before a judgement is reached, or simply do not even start one in the first place. As a case officer at the Mission for Migrant Workers explained, when processing a case, time often frustrates a potentially positive outcome.
The temporary contract thus provides a sense of escape for domestic workers when they experience unfavourable working conditions. However, this sense of escape stands in stark contrast to the fear of job loss that disciplines domestic workers with respect to everyday life negotiations with their employers. Thereby, the temporal regulations involved – i.e. the possibility of being terminated with immediate effect and the two-week rule that follows – exacerbate their fears. It happens that domestic workers are terminated unexpectedly while they have worked for the same employer on multiple contracts. 4 The feeling that they can lose their job any day informs their behaviour towards their employers. It disciplines them to be obedient even though they know that their rights are being violated. Thereby they feel disempowered to speak up for themselves and unable to change the sometimes unfavourable conditions created by their employers. If they find the courage to start a legal case, temporal restrictions again constrain a favourable outcome.
When speaking up, domestic workers jeopardize the family income, not only for now, but perhaps also for the future. As Cleo (32) clarifies: ‘[o]nce we lose our job, we lose our future also’. In other words, they lose the relative stability of their permanently temporary status of domestic worker.
Conclusion and discussion
This article has attempted to further the theoretical discussion on permanence and temporariness of migration trajectories by focusing on how these are enacted and experienced in ‘lived time’ in the everyday lives of Filipina domestic workers in Hong Kong. Their experiences show that for many women it is undecided how long their migration trajectories will last. Because they can renew their two-year contracts multiple times, their employment as a temporary domestic worker can become long-lasting. From this perspective, their stay in Hong Kong takes on a more permanent character. Nevertheless, the permanence of their stay in Hong Kong is something that can only be validated in retrospect; after they have finished multiple contracts.
The unpredictability of family care that translates into changing financial needs is a major dimension that adds to the indeterminacy of their migration trajectories. Domestic workers are continuously readjusting the estimation of duration of their employment in terms of the number of contracts needed and with respect to other aspects of their life that are changing. Times and timings of tasks, or unpredictable activities and events of human life (e.g. care, love or ageing) are thereby important elements for understanding the long-term employment as they inform decisions of whether or when to return.
The uncertain course of migration trajectories that comes to the fore in this article seems to contrast with the concept of stepwise migration (Paul, 2011), which emphasizes that migrants strategically and intentionally plan to get to their preferred destination. On the contrary, this study has showed that initial plans may not extend further than two or four years and that, unintentionally, women stay on as domestic worker for a longer period than they expected. Naturally, the fact that domestic workers experience unpredictability and uncertainty does not rule out that they may try to steer their next move, and that some successfully ‘move on’. Their whereabouts are decided in two-year temporary contracts with different ‘ad-hoc’ regulations that can change their living situation overnight. Those who have been in Hong Kong for a couple of years experience strong feelings of unsettledness. Other women have learned (over the years) how to manage this uncertainty and some even embrace the freedom involved. This raises questions such as when and to what extent do they accept that working abroad as domestic worker has become a ‘permanent’ feature of their working lives? How do they change their plans on the way and what becomes their ‘preferred destination’? This could be an interesting line of enquiry for future research.
From the scope of experiences encountered in the everyday life of Filipina workers, we learn that temporariness and permanence imbued with migration trajectories operate in different fields of their everyday lives, and that they can be experienced as both positive and negative: the temporariness of the employment contract, the relative stability of being employed as a domestic worker (as opposed to uncertain job opportunities in the Philippines), the endurance of being away from family and children, or indeed, their permanently temporary migration trajectories, and uncertain prospects about return migration. It is this collection of different, sometimes contradictory temporalities that gives rise to strong feelings of uncertainty and endurance. It is the juxtaposition of the temporariness of the contract, and at the same time the permanence of their situation that shapes this experience. For some women, continuously shifting between anticipations of leaving Hong Kong, on the one hand, and staying on as domestic workers for an indeterminate period, on the other, leaves them feeling unsettled. This tension between knowing that one day they will return home and at the same time not knowing how long this will take comes to the fore in their temporal experiences. In relation to this they employ different coping strategies in their everyday lives, rationalizing their employment as a domestic worker, ‘staying strong’ and surviving by giving themselves pep talks and drawing on religion and prayer.
Their need for a permanently temporary job in combination with the two-week rule furthermore disciplines the domestic workers in their everyday behaviour. In this respect, the findings of this study underline the disciplinary power of ‘permanent temporariness’ as a field of action, which shapes individuals’ action spaces (Bailey et al., 2002: 139). However, this disciplining effect not only stems from the enforcement of a temporary status, but is clearly informed by other temporal restrictions as well. The wish to extend and secure their employment as domestic worker informs everyday negotiations with their employers, as well as with respect to their working conditions. It is one of the reasons why domestic workers choose to be obedient and not to confront their employers (e.g. about their right to a 24-hour rest day), as such minimizing the risk of being terminated prematurely. The temporal regulations involved with processing a legal case also constrain domestic workers with respect to reporting contract breaches to legal institutions, as they may need this time to earn money. Instead, they prefer to make use of the affordance of the temporariness of the employment contract that provides a safer ‘escape route’ in case they are unsatisfied with their current employment circumstances. The domestic workers anticipate and can make use of the temporalities of their employment and visa conditions. It also becomes clear that multiple temporalities, both those of migration regulations as well as individual temporalities, intersect and conflict.
Relatedly, some of the domestic workers feel that engaging permanently in temporary labour is the only way to get access to a stable income, and that they are ‘destined’ to be employed as domestic workers for a significant part of their working lives. In spite of the hardship they have to endure, from this perspective, being employed as a domestic worker may be a preferred outcome given the limited opportunities back home. Conceivably, such perspectives can also lengthen the duration of their migration trajectories. Therefore, while temporal restrictions discipline the behaviour of Filipina domestic workers in everyday life, this may also affect their (perceived) opportunities for the future. In this respect, Filipina domestic workers are constrained by their permanently temporary status, both in everyday life as well as in the long term.
This research has shown how different experiences of permanence and temporariness come about and how they are the product of multiple, overlapping temporalities: temporalities that follow from their temporary migration scheme, but also temporalities of care or earning money. The focus on temporal experiences of permanence and temporariness has proven to be a rather all-encompassing one – including sensations of time, but also touching upon issues of (un)certainty, stability and flexibility – and has revealed useful and comprehensive insights into, and explanations for, domestic workers’ decisions in daily life and in the long run. However, the term ‘permanent’ seems somewhat problematic in the context of the everyday life experiences of Filipina domestic workers. While multiple renewals of their temporary contract may lead to the characterization of their migration as permanent, what exactly is permanent with respect to the migration trajectories of Filipina domestic workers in Hong Kong? This question seems relevant regarding their experiences that reflect an unsettling and maybe even existential transitoriness caused by the indeterminacy of their duration of employment in Hong Kong. However, there is a structural demand for domestic workers in Hong Kong. They are a permanent presence in local society, and a permanent presence in Hong Kong’s public space. From this perspective, it would be worthwhile to further extend research into the ‘permanently temporary migrant’, in terms of the way they are accommodated in cities and nations, and their experiences and strategies towards a permanently temporary status. The concept ‘permanently temporary’ in migration studies could even be used as a critical concept to open up questions about the inclusion and treatment of such low-income migrant workers that are today an undeniable element in (urban) economies.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Ray Forrest for comments on an early version of this article. I also wish to thank Michiel Baas, Brenda Yeoh and the anonymous reviewers for their helpful comments on this article.
Funding
For this research, financial support was received from Dr. Hendrik Muller’s Vaderlandsch Fonds Foundation and Vrijvrouwe van Renswoude Foundation.
