Yesterday I visited an old folk's home at Tanah Merah together with the THearts people as part of our Special Projects. Our hall senior who was a volunteer at the home had a discussion with us regarding why people volunteer and some reasons keeping people from volunteering. Subsequently a volunteer gave us a tour of the whole building, following which was a briefing for our activity for the day, which was to bring some of the old folks to IMM to do some shopping with the $25 that they were each given for this outing. Having indicated that I could speak a bit of Cantonese and Hokkien, I was attached to a wheelchair-bound old lady who could only speak Cantonese and who was partially deaf, which meant that I had to speak the bits and pieces of improper-sounding Cantonese really loudly to her. The volunteers told me that based on past years' experiences, this particular old lady would refuse to buy anything, so the nurses at the home wanted us to get new clothes for her for the new year. With an experienced volunteer aiding me, we wheeled the old lady to the clothes section to select clothes for her. And to our surprise, the shopping trip had been a very smooth sailing one for the old lady actually liked the clothes the volunteer selected. We hit the budget really quickly and wheeled her around to get drinks or food for her, despite her wanting to go back already. During the shopping trip, I tried to converse with her but she either did not reply or did not want the things we picked off the shelf. I couldn't help but feel a little discouraged with my lack of ability to converse in dialect properly. After we were done with the trip, and have gathered everyone, some of us went back to the home and some left from IMM.

In this trip, the old people were given their own "pocket money" to buy what they wanted. Some bought clothes and new year goodies. I was quite surprised when some bought items that I didn't thought they would buy, such as potato chips, and when I was told that some of the old people actually liked ice cream. I was amused when a friend told me one of the old ladies didn't want to buy the larger packet of goodies so that she didn't have to share with her friends, and when another old lady bought fake flowers but didn't want them after we arrived back at the home and gave them to another friend of mine who was attached to her. The volunteer who showed us around also mentioned that the places in the canteen in the home was territorial, and that some did not like it if others sat in their places, and some preferred to sit alone.

I realised that the old people were just like primary school kids, and that many of these initial ideas which I had on what they liked and did not like did not occur to me. I had always associated old people at old folks home to be ill, frail, on the bed, eating biscuits and porridge, and drinking milo, but it seems that this mental image which I had conjured up had been yet again affected by societal views and generalised to every old folk by the media. I have forgotten to insert a life into these beings, in other sense, I had forgotten to appreciate the individuality of each and every one as a human being. This is indeed what the lack of interaction with such groups of individuals have done to me, and the experience I had gone through yesterday had made me realise that.

Is it true that we all turn back to kids once we are past our prime age as adults? From not being able to speak, to being able to speak a few words, a whole sentence, striking up conversations, and then back to being only able to speak a few words or slur, where no one can understand what we're trying to convey again? From being dependent, to being independent, to watching everyone leave you, and back to being dependent on society, and having to be taken care off again? But then again, it might be a good thing, for at least one doesn't have to care about the malicious workings of the world again. It might, for all we know, be a simpler life to lead.

I have not yet figured out how to view the problem of aging, for it is one too complex to be summarized in a single blogpost. All I do know is that compared to the other old folk's home that I had been to last Sem, this one had more volunteers, better facilities and activities lined up for them. So what happens to the rest of the old folks in homes with not many vistors? Are they just lying in bed, waiting for the nurses to handle their daily needs, being no longer capable of handling such simple tasks that they used to be able to do? And hopefully school kids on excursions or on their compulsory CIP project will pop by and arrange a day's worth of activity and then disappear again. And maybe occasionally, those with family members will show up for an hour or so to visit and when they leave, they're alone again.  I can't help but wonder whether what society is doing is is enough and how we are going to attain enough resources to deal with this problem of aging. I think I do understand a little more of the problem of the aging population so often spoken about.

To be able to live for my dreams of the future and the people I love while I am young, what will I live for when I no longer have the ability to fulfill these dreams and when the people I love have left me in the future?
Would such a life still be worth living?