We migrant domestic workers are the lowest wage earners in the city, and seen as outsiders because we look different and speak a different language. Whether we are doing errands or going out on our days off, people don’t seem to care or notice the difference. There are times when I can feel that people around us have their own way to identify who is a helper and who is not, despite our effort to fit in. It seems like no matter what, there will always be this invisible line separating us from the others.
