Senior Citizens Day
October 1st was International Senior Citizens Day, a fact
brought to my attention by a member on my university alumni WA group. A few members responded with mutual warm
greetings and well wishes, bantering over a jest about who is having gold tooth
or even teeth, or keeping them in the bank.
I’ve hardly watched tv or read the newspapers in recent
months, preferring to overwhelm myself with my own chosen books and films – in
a way getting away from the noise pollution in the media. But I can’t help
overhearing discussions on tv in the past two days, on retirement homes and
programs for senior citizens. Well and good that the government has an
infrastructure for such projects and that there are caring individuals, whether
employed in government service or on voluntary basis, who are involved in running
them.
A friend on my school alumni WA group actually alerted
members to such a program showing on TV3, setting a conversation on the
difficulty of finding a suitable one when needed. I playfully suggested setting up one
exclusively for our alumnus…after all we do have doctors and nurses in our
families to help out. A quick rebut came
in pointing out potential problems arising from habitually lazy members – that
may lead to squabbles – and “peculiarities” generated by aging factors; and
worse still if these are degenerating with age.
Seconders came in to that.
Laughable yes, but I still think it is a doable idea if we can, at least,
start with sorting out the fine differences between “peculiarities” and
“idiosyncrasies”, and come up with border lines between what are appreciable,
tolerable and obnoxious.
Being a care giver to three family members myself, between
the ages of 68 to 81 years, I sometimes forget that I am in that age bracket of
“warga emas”(golden citizen) myself.
Maybe it is because I’m, at the same time, surrounded by two younger
generations who are active, creative and loving – they keep me on the border
line, or so I assume since that is how I feel on most days.
As far as perks offered to warga emas in this country is
concerned, I’ve enjoyed some - 50% off train tickets, theatre tickets, graduate
study fees – for which I’m grateful.
Then there are conveniences like priority services given in queues at
the Immigration Department, polling stations, airlines. I believe there are many other similar perks
that I am not aware of, and should certainly explore like the discounts given
at some restaurants mentioned by friends recently.
I cannot say these perks do not go a distance in making
senior citizens feel like a privileged group, leaving them to acquire a sense
of entitlement that may, in turn, make them become quite blasé towards such
provision. Sometimes it takes a
momentous occasion to rekindle feelings of gratitude and the joy in it. I had such an experience recently, courtesy
of Malaysian Airlines System.
It was my first flight out of the
country on my own since 2014. Since then fear of flying has developed from
covid paranoia, anxiety over any possible changes in airport administration
system, sporadic back pain since 2020 and sciatic nerves working up after a
long walk or sitting down for too long.
I wanted to arrive in Perth at least a day before my brother-in-law’s
scheduled triple bypass open heart surgery.
I had promised my sister I would be there a few days earlier, but the
date of operation was confirmed just three days before. It was mid week; I could not find any one to
accompany me on the earliest available flight.
Banking on MAS maintaining its reputed “golden service”, my daughter who
had not flown overseas either in years, booked me on a MAS flight, leaving KL
at 7.40 pm and arriving in Perth at 1.30 am.
She ticked off on ‘assisted flight”, citing as reason, “inability to
walk long distances”, and hoped for the best, having been informed that
wheelchairs are available and assistance will be provided upon departure in KL
- from check-in point to the airplane door, and upon arrival in Perth - from
the plane to check-out point. I had
initially protested, feeling indignant at the idea of appearing physically
disabled. I had envisaged having a staff
walk with me all the way, and perhaps help to carry my hand luggage. The last time I was pushed on a wheelchair
was when I was admitted into hospital for dengue with a blood platelet count of
80 and fast dropping. Seeing my apprehension,
the MAS staff in attendance kindly advised me that using the wheelchair would
make assistance much simpler and that after all, the wheelchairs are meant not
for OKU (the handicapped) only, but anyone else needing them including senior
citizens. My mind instantly tweaked
‘hah, I’m entitled to that!” even if my difficulty – or in fact, fear – of walking
to the plane did not qualify me for the service. My embarrassment dissipated.
So I did well on my jolly ride on
the wheelchair, assisted by a polite and cheerful young man from Sabah, getting
priority service at the immigration check-point and upon boarding. A very warm welcome from the flight crew put
me at greater ease (I was feeling a bit nervous about being on my own) and
during the flight, a stewardess stopped by three times to ask if I needed
anything. Upon arrival, wheelchair
assisted passengers – three of us that night - were last to leave the
plane. I did not mind one bit,
especially as we disembarked, seeing the Australian airport ground crew waiting
to continue the assisted service. A pleasant,
portly middle-aged Australian gentleman assisted me through immigration,
baggage collection and all the way to the exit door. There was an elderly Korean lady (she had
volunteered to walk after leaving the plane) who he assisted together with me. She could not speak a word of English,
understanding a few basic words only. He was very patient with her and in about
15 minutes, had her disembarkation form filled out, and was strutting up and
down anxiously to retrieve her last bag.
He told her to wait while he saw me out…to my waiting sister and niece –
our reunion after four years!
Well, I feel that it was an
accomplishment made possible by the assistance of the MAS crew and their
associates at Perth airport. My
anxieties were kept at bay and I could even enjoy the flight. Besides getting up to stretch a few times, I
was also able to turn left and right easily while sitting down as the seat next
to mine was vacant. As a result, my back
and legs felt less than moderate pain at the end of the five and a half-hour
flight.
I guess this could be an occasion
to feel prized as a senior citizen. On
the flight home I was accompanied by my
daughter and two grandsons who had arrived in Perth two weeks later. We subsequently spent a week in Melbourne
with my son who works in the city. She
had booked me on ‘”assisted flight” again and the whole gang benefited from the
priority services accorded to me as I was wheeled about by kindly staff – first
to board and disembark, breezing through the immigration check-point, baggage
collection and away to passenger pick-up area.
It was not MAS, so I am able to make a comparison between two airlines – and name MAS the winner
with flying colors (pun intended). Its
reputed “golden service” has perhaps unwittingly befitted what a “warga emas”
can unself-consciously ride on (pun intended again) - without feeling guilt or
embarrassment – though I did wish nobody recognized me during the rides as I
would have explanations to make and it would have spoilt the zen.
