Old don’t want to be ‘cared to death’

I feel like Gary's grandmother, whose life consists of lying around on the couch. It is not her fault: when she tries to do something - say, sweep the floor, the broom is taken from her and she is told she should just go take a rest. Lately she has taken to complaining: "My life is useless. I should just die." Somehow that falls on deaf ears.

Since speculating on this subject I’ve taken to really looking at the old folks from the community who amble aimlessly around our campus. Mostly the women. Their eyes inscrutable, hands behind their back they stroll, rolling gait announcing their lack of direction or purpose. These are not people who, after raising this generation of movers and shakers, and caring for their children’s offspring are enjoying their golden years. These are women who long to be seen as still valuable. Women who, but for cultural edict, could contribute plenty to their family and society. These women, in this rural part of Wuhan and coming from a generation that relegated females to second class status, are most likely uneducated, maybe even illiterate. They cannot delve into a good book or even entertain themselves by watching television.

They do not understand the national language – Putonghua - that everyone in movies and on TV speaks. They only use and understand their regional dialect. After the age of 60, they are deemed too old and/or too venerable. They are no longer required to help take care of grandchildren, shop, and cook or even clean the house. Besides, their grandchildren are most likely in school, leaving them with nothing to do all day but sun themselves, gather on the corner and chat like magpies or hide their resentment at having been relegated to worthlessness by virtue of deep respect.

Conversely, men the same age still retain some worth, if only intellectual, or holding of patriarchal power. Traditional Chinese society is, of course, patriarchal. Whereas mothers are debased - albeit lovingly to the status of nags ready for the glue factory, fathers are truly elevated in status. Whatever the family’s eldest male says is what goes, no matter how the rest of the family feels.

Older men in China are in fact revered. The finest cuts of meat, the best portions of vegetables and the most comfortable chair are reserved for them. If an elderly couple boards the bus and there is only one seat available, usually the woman will forsake sitting in favor of their mate occupying it. With no qualms these men do in fact sit while their spouses remain standing.

Traditionally, the family’s elder male’s opinion is sought before any decision is made regarding finance or life choice. Even a child’s – male or female – choice of mate is offered up for scrutiny, and this elder’s opinion and decision is usually adhered to.

When old men amble around campus it is usually with a measure of vigor. They can be seen with head held high, swinging their arms as they walk. Their gait is more peppy and their eyes do not reflect that horrible vacancy and shameful frustration of feeling useless. Any activity is considered acceptable to the younger generation who care for them. To my knowledge, no one ever tells old men they must rest, relax, or not do too much. They are encouraged to do as much as they’d like, and resources are made available for them to pursue any passion they may have.

Sam, one of my more traditional Chinese friends, agrees. There is a world of difference in how older men and older women are treated. He said that, come the time for his parents to need such level of care, it will be up to him and his wife to do the caring. He already anticipates long, meaningful conversations with his father, while Penny will be admonishing her mother in law to just sit, relax and do nothing. Somehow I just can’t see Sam’s spunky, fun loving, passionate mother being put out to pasture.

Over time, Gary grew to understand that I do not need to be constantly warned to care, nor do I need to be constantly watched over. In our travels I've had the chance to prove that I am perfectly capable and he should let the mother hen act go. Since then Gary has learned that I’m well worth my salt as a traveling companion and has never since mentioned that I need to be careful, take it easy and relax. I wonder if we would still be friends had he continued to admonish me?

I had a great conversation with my friend Tristan a few nights ago. I whined about how people, students and colleagues, included, kept cautioning me to not do too much. I complained about being cared for ... to death. Somehow I was able to make him understand that, while I “get” the Chinese cultural edict that requires younger “family” members to care for seniors – mostly women - the level and extent of caring expressed does not make me feel loved, respected or venerated at all.

The original blog is: http://blog.chinadaily.com.cn/blog-1372409-23221.html