Dear snotty middle-class lady on the metro:
I'm so sorry that you were forced to sit between two Filipina workers on Sunday. I'm sure those were a difficult thirty seconds for you before you got up, sighed, and stalked down the train. Thanks so much for putting those women in their place. God knows, after six days of working around the clock to take care of your house, your husband, and your children, they could've been more considerate and not tried to actually talk to each other in your presence. The sight of the smiles melting off of their faces when you made your stand really brightened up my day.
Also, I hope you didn't properly "mind the gap" when disembarking and that you have a nasty Philippines-shaped bruise on your thigh. Kisses!
For anyone who's interested, Maid to Order in Hong Kong is a great ethnography.
And here are some photos of the Filipina workers who gather on Sundays, their only day off, to socialize, eat, give each other manicures, try to remember they're human, and get snubbed by passersby: