Who Are You, Man from the Cleaning Crew?

Last night, as I left work at 7 ... yeah, on a Friday night ... I was thinking. I work for a decent-sized company and a cleaning crew comes through each night to empty the trash, vacuum, clean the bathrooms, etc. I've worked at this company quite a while and tend to work late on a regular basis.

Each night I'm there, this guy comes into my office to collect my trash. I say hi and hand him my trash can (scanning my desk to toss in the remants of breakfast, lunch and any other random stuff). He empties it and hands it back to me with a smile. I say thanks and have a good night, he sometimes mumbles a good night; more often, he just smiles.

Like others who have done this job over the years, he speaks limited English. Or I assume it's limited. He doesn't say much, and I've never engaged him in conversation. That's mainly because, in the past, I've been a little embarassed by trying to strike up a conversation with one of the cleaning crew, only to have them smile sheepishly and say "No English." I'm not sure why that embarasses me, but it does.

Anyway, I believe this guy is Eastern European, as are most of the other janitorial staff. My husband recently hired someone from that area who is a talented craftsman, which got me wondering about my nighttime cleaning guy. Who is he really? Has he always done this? Is he really a woodworker or an artist? In his home country, he may have been an engineer, a doctor, a professor. Is he just biding time until he gets his U.S. license? Is this what he imagined America to be? Is he wondering how soon he'll be able to move on? Or is a steady job, a home and safety all he was looking for when he came here?

As he walks through our offices at night, he has a window into our lives. He sees who's messy, who's neat. He sees personal momentos; photos of family and pets. He sees who's always gone home to be with those folks in the photos and who's still here, working late. In small ways, he knows us; the kind of jobs we have, an understanding of our habits, a clue as to what matters to us.

I know nothing about him but that he has kind eyes and an easy but somewhat nervous smile. And that he gathers my trash and sometimes laughs quietly when I keep adding to it even as he takes it away.

Maybe I'll try to change that. Maybe I'll ask him a question soon. Something as simple as "What's your name?"There's so much more to know.