Last week, I had the really interesting opportunity to visit a Chinese elderly home. The students from my fellowship organized a day of outreach to various places around the city: two elderly homes, an orphanage, and several *thinking in the upward direction* walks. Twelve of us went to the one elderly home, which happens to be a Buddhist place. Obviously, proselytizing wasn’t so much on the list of kosher things to do while there, although I know there were some good conversations being had nevertheless.
All together, our group saw between 120 and 150 people, and we brought little gifts for each one. (Most of the gift bags had a pair of socks and a little bar of soap, so it was fairly practical and versatile.) I was paired up with a guy from Nigeria who only speaks a few words of Chinese, which meant I was really the one to do most of the communicating. It’s really entertaining to try to talk in a foreign language with old people! But the two of us first went down the hall with probably the sickest people in the facility (most of them bedridden). We finished pretty quickly, since the vast majority of them couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak, or couldn’t do either. That made for pretty limited conversations, regardless of my Chinese ability. :) But it was amazing to see how much a genuine smile can communicate and how touched some of them were.
The first lady I met was a hundred years old and has been living there for twenty years! What an interesting life. She was actually quite healthy, at least for being a hundred, so she was sitting up and perfectly capable of communicating with us. The biggest problem with her was that she was still so mentally sharp, she didn’t really care to slow down enough for the foreigners. But we did talk a little about her large collection of Buddhist books that she’s been reading, as well as the vast changes that have taken place in China during her lifetime.
Later on, I had the opportunity to meet the oldest person in the facility: a 103-year-old gentleman. He was also sitting up and somewhat communicative, although he slurred his speech a lot more, which made it difficult for me. (Remember, this was all in Chinese. People this old mostly didn’t ever have the opportunity to study English. If they’ve studied a foreign language, it would have been Japanese or Russian.) But he was eager to take pictures with all the foreigners who had come to see him, and it was fun to talk as much as we could.
My favorite lady at the place was a bit younger: 97. But to my great surprise, she was very active and spunky. She and I walked around together a bit, until she told me that I should sit down since my legs were probably getting tired. I told her that I would only sit down if she sat down with me. :) But we talked at some length. She asked me if I missed my mom, and how long it’s been since I’ve seen her. In a sort of sorrowful voice, she advised me that “your mom misses you, even if you don’t miss her.” While I assured her that I do actually miss my mom, I realized that her comments really had nothing to do with me. She was missing her own children. And that’s hard to see, that this lively lady has been living in this facility for some time now because her children won’t take her in (or even visit her there, probably). It was interesting to hear her story, and to reflect on how her story fits into the larger culture here.
But I’ll stop here on this topic for now. I’d be happy to share more about my reflections of the larger culture/society and the role of the elderly homes with any of you who are interested. Just ask me after I get back to the U.S. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment