Lifeline around car lot

Dubai: Jeevan starts the seven-km bicycle ride to work at midnight to spend the next nine hours in a makeshift car park below a towering high rise in Sharjah.

The 42-year-old college diploma holder can be seen there six nights a week with his pants rolled up to his knees, a water bucket in one hand and a washcloth in the other.

Jeevan meaning 'life' in Hindi has been cleaning cars in this lot for four years. He came to the UAE to work for a construction company, but decided to quit and find a job that would allow him to escape the daytime heat and make significantly more money.

Dedicated

Jeevan, who comes from a village outside Hyderabad in southern India, says he can put a face and an apartment number to every one of the 600 or so cars that are parked there. He charges Dh60 to Dh100 per month based on the size of the car and the frequency of cleaning, and has approximately 30 customers a day.

The father of two makes up to Dh1,500 per month cleaning cars but his income drops considerably during the summer. At such times, he says, cleaners have to struggle to find business; and since most of them are from the same village, the competition can occasionally strain relations.

"There've been scuffles between the cleaners in the past when one cleaner would take another's business," says Jeevan. "This kind of thing is rare though," he insists. There is a general "understanding" between all the cleaners on the limits of competition. "If I clean your car and your brother comes to live with you, his car is my responsibility. That is understood," claims Jeevan.

If there is a new tenant, he explains, cleaners are free to use their expertise in attracting them as customers. Most keep a close watch on newcomers in the building, and are often tipped off by security guards as to which apartments new tenants move into.

Car cleaning isn't Jeevan's only source of income. He has a second job from 10am to 2pm lifting boxes in a warehouse, where he makes the extra money to help pay for rent and food.

Jeevan lives in a 30 by 20 feet room shared with six men from his village. He says the roommates get along well and usually mind their own business.

To keep the calm, he says, rules have to be set. Every roommate is designated one day of the week to cook for the rest, "including those that only eat vegetarian". Mobile phones and the television are to be switched off by 9.30 or 10pm "latest"; and only one guest is allowed at a time following a one month's notice to the roommates, he says.

Jeevan says he's comfortable in the UAE, but his stay here is only temporary. "My wife misses me, and keeps asking me to come back. I think I'll give it a couple more years," he says. For now, Jeevan will continue working two jobs until he manages to find his son a job and makes enough money to solve the problems at home.

It's only a matter of time till the lot turns into a construction site like others before it, and Jeevan has to find another location to start all over again.

Dubai Jeevan and 44 other members of his village are members of an informal but sophisticated banking system Jeevan calls "the society".

Membership to the Society costs Dh100 per month and is open only to members of Jeevan's village, Nizamabad.

Jeevan likes to think of the society as a social grouping based on trust and community values. All members know each other from the village, and are only there "to look out for each other".

Membership fees are collected by an appointed "cashier" for 18-24 months after which members get their saved amount back along with interest collected from loans.

"If a member has to leave the country without taking his balance, he can get it back at home in Nizamabad," says Jeevan.

The society meets once a month where the group's balance is announced by the cashier and members are given the opportunity to present possible loan requests before the rest of the society.

Members can take one- and four-month loans of Dh1,000 for which they are charged Dh50 and Dh100 in interest respectively. All collected interest is added up, divided and distributed equally between the members at the end of the cycle.

So what does the cashier get out of it?

"Nothing," insists Jeevan. "We agree to appoint a trustworthy man every cycle, who does the job for the sake of the community."