They live in Golden Lotus Studio Apartments. It's the posh name for Block 62B of Toa Payoh Lorong 4, one of eight studio apartment projects islandwide, which are tailored for Singaporeans above 55 and fitted with elderly-friendly features such as handrails along corridors.
WEEKEND XTRA checks out life in Toa Payoh's Block 62B
... hope you have a good stay
By Christie Loh
SHE was sitting very still on the bench until I walked into her line of vision. What's the time, she called out in Hokkien. Caught off-guard and unable to recite numbers in the dialect, I showed my digital watch to — it was 11.30am — the largish woman with a mop of greyish-black hair, in a long, pale-pink cotton nightdress.
Beside her was a plate of bloated oranges and half-peeled dragonfruit. All rotting. The round plate looked unwashed for days, just like her nightdress.
I had to concentrate hard on answering her torrent of questions. Who are you meeting? Are you married? What's your occupation? How much do you make a month?
I backed up a metre, onto the bench across from hers. She said she was waiting for her son to arrive at noon.
At 11.40am, she asked for the time again, then declared she had to go back upstairs to pee. Picking up two oranges, she dropped them into a red plastic bag, before strangely demanding that I transfer the remaining fruits. Reluctant but obediently, I tipped the plate into the bag. Satisfied, she shuffled towards the lift.
It was only then that I saw, to my horror, that the back of her nightdress was soiled with a huge damp circle and faeces.
I later learnt I was not the first to meet her in such a manner.
Madam Tan, the name she insisted I jot down along with her address so that I would mail her my wedding pictures, lives in Golden Lotus Studio Apartments. It's the posh name for Block 62B of Toa Payoh Lorong 4, one of eight studio apartment projects islandwide, which are tailored for Singaporeans above 55 and fitted with elderly-friendly features such as handrails along corridors.
When opened in 2002, the 156-unit HDB project in Toa Payoh made headlines for the way it tried to meet senior citizens' needs for smaller, more easily maintained homes in central locations.
But for some folk, the set-up alone has been insufficient. In appearance and facilities, Golden Lotus is hardly found lacking. The void deck is clean, brightly lit and distinct from surrounding blocks by its cheerful, mandarin-orange walls. Modern lifts, a garden on the third floor and an exercise corner with a foot reflexology path lend an upmarket feel to the 30-year leasehold flats.
Compared to the low-income elderly living in the handful of nearby blocks of rental flats and one-roomers, 62B is what "Dr Ong", who runs a medical clinic in the vicinity, would call "higher class". They're not the ones who ask the doctor for discounts.
If anything, they ask for company.When I first rang the bell of Mr Tham Long Kong's flat — whose open door was a rare sight in the block of homes where doors were mostly shut— I was half sure he would wave me off because there he was, enjoying his calf-massage machine while watching a Chinese TV programme at top volume.
Surprisingly, the 70-year-old left the blaring telly, sat me down on a stool outside his flat and chatted for some 40 minutes. From his unhappiness at having to make Medisave top-ups in order to buy the studio apartment, to his glory days as a karaoke king and to that freak accident where his car rolled over his left leg, the ruddy-cheeked man loved telling them all.
"If I stay at home, I'll quarrel with my wife. So, I go and sing karaoke," laughed the former sub-contractor, who looks a decade younger than his age.
When the sun set on us, he invited me in to meet his 69-year-old wife and view his singing contest trophies.
His 45-square-metre flat - which cost $70,000 - comprises a bedroom, a sitting area, a bathroom and a kitchen. Three red cords hung from the ceiling in separate areas. In case of an emergency, the Thams need only pull the cord to trigger an alarm that will electronically send their unit number flashing on public screens along certain corridors.
If this happens during office hours, aid should come instantly from staff of Care Link, an activity centre on the second floor. Otherwise, the duty falls to a volunteer manning the system or, better yet, a watchful neighbour.
Some years back, recalled Mr Tham, there were such frequent false alarms that when a resident died suddenly, no one discovered her body until about an hour later.
As one of the early residents, Mr Tham, who has four sons and seven grandchildren, has seen neighbours come and go over the years. Often, the ailing ones are taken downstairs in the lift which is long enough to fit in a stretcher. That is the lift Mdm Tan refused to take to go up to her flat, where she lives alone and apart from her children.
Is her case an exception in a block that appears outgoing and friendly?
One old man, upon exiting the lift and seeing me, extended a Chinese-style greeting by asking if I'd eaten. An elderly lady, with a smile as sweet as her powder-blue floral dress, rattled on about going to church and postponing a maintenance man's visit before rushing upstairs. Mothers would arrive to deposit their kids with grandma and grandpa. Residents would be out running errands, while some returned from buying packed lunches. Still others came from other blocks to go up to the second floor, where one of Lorong 4's most important social venues is.
Care Link, run by voluntary welfare organisation Care Corner Singapore, is a sort of community centre for the elderly. Group birthday parties are organised every quarter, while scheduled activities such as craft-making and line-dancing run Mondays to Saturdays.
On Thursday afternoons, Mrs Tham is part of a group of around 20 discussing news reports and selected topics. The day I was there, they talked about romance in marriage, tattoos, how someone could bear to dump a new-born in the rubbish bin, and an animated debate - in a mixture of Hokkien and Cantonese - on the need to have goals in life.
After the discussion, a female resident popped in with a see-through container: Two pink, plump prawns lying on a bed of home-cooked mee hoon goreng. Food-sharing is common there.
But not all residents of the 15-storey block care to join in. Several present at Care Link that afternoon hailed from other blocks, while many in 62B, including Mdm Tan, stayed behind closed doors.
Keeping to yourself doesn't help. Said a participant during the discussion session:
"You want to be happy in old age? You must have friends and people to talk to."
She had a point. Because the happy faces I met were either part of a social group or maintained close ties with their family. Some, like the Thams, enjoy both.
Now what about those with neither and just an apartment in 62B?
By Christie Loh
christie@mediacorp.com.sg
