Home for the day: Seniors bond at Pakal Veedu, a day-carecentre for the elderly in Kottayam, Kerala. WFS
Liyamma was born rich but had to wait 76 years to celebrate her first birthday party. Her parents belonged to a generation that probably never baked a cake and her children felt that she didn't need it, certainly not at her age. But at Pakal Veedu, the day-care centre for the aged in Kottayam, Kerala, Liyamma blew hard to put out the candles on her birthday cake. She was blowing away more than just the candle flames; she was extinguishing her loneliness and depression.
"When she first came here," says Tito Thomas, a counsellor with a degree in theology who runs Pakal Veeduwith his wife, Shanthi, "she couldn't even feed herself". A few months later, she was a happy, lively and confident woman who even began wearing churidars.
Today, Liyamma is no more. But the two years of regular attendance at this nouveau facility had transformed her completely. Her fellow members feel Pakal Veedu didn't just give her a life; it also prepared her to face death.
BEING AMONG PEERS
The influence of a peer group is no less important for the aged than it is for the young. In fact, it is more important for the elderly because the need for fellowship increases as one grows older. But one reason why Pakal Veedu hasn't become a raging new fad is because it is difficult to convince the older generation, weaned on years of sacrifice and selflessness, that they also need time with `friends.'
The concept of Pakal Veedu was borrowed from the West by a prominent priest of Kerala's Mar Thoma Diocese during his theological training in the US. Rev. Fr. Samuel John started an NGO called Smile India, under which three Pakal Veedu centres run by its board members were established in Kodimatha, Kurichy and Manganam `panchayats' (village councils) in Kottayam.
In contrast to old-age homes, Pakal Veedu does not uproot the old from their homes. "As you grow older, you get accustomed to routine," says Thomas, "and your bed and your coffee cup become dear." In an old-age home, one is deprived of one's belongings and forced to live under restrictions. "Here, we come of our own volition," says Lucy, 77, belonging to an upper middle-class family in Kottayam.
She and her sister-in-law regularly visit the Manganam centre thrice a week. Adds Rachel, 80, another regular at the centre, "Everything is informal. We can ask for a cup of tea during the prayer session or lie down in between a game when we feel tired."
NURTURING POSITIVE ATTITUDE
For members of the day-care centre, their day out starts from the time the Pakal Veedu van picks them up from their homes. Since the Manganam Pakal Veedu has affluent members, each one pays a membership fee of Rs 60 a day. Activities range from cooking, therapy to aerobics.
They do admit that were it not for the conveyance facility, they would be stuck at home. So, do they feel three days a week is not enough? Says Mariamma, 73, "We can come out on these three days at least!" Then why does the Manganam centre not have more than 10 members? "Because everybody feels that this is an option only for the lonely and the uncared," says Aliyamma.
Her children accuse her of demeaning them. They feel that her presence at Pakal Veedu is proof of her feelings of neglect at home. "They don't understand that I need to spend time away from them as well," she says.
But some other families are happy to have this option because it helps their parents have a positive attitude on life, making them easier to live with.
Of the three centres, the one at Kodimatha caters to the lower middle-class. The members here are women over 60 years and are either destitute or neglected. Of the 12 regular attendees, 10 live in poverty. They come to the centre twice a week, taking free rides on private buses, for a five-hour fellowship which includes prayer, lunch, games and some exercise.
Sara, 93, became a widow at 22 and singlehandedly raised her son by working as a maid in various houses. "Today, I work as a sweeper in the veterinary hospital and earn Rs 750 a month," she says. She attends an evangelical centre every week because they give her a free meal, old clothes and some travel allowance. The last time her son visited her, he gave her Rs 20.
Two unmarried sisters, Ammini and Chachy also attend the Kodimatha centre twice a week, more for the free meal and bus fare than the games and interaction. "There are days when we have lived on just gruel water," she says, adding that she has forgotten what milk and eggs taste like. Their parents died early and one brother who is still alive does not wish to keep in touch.
However, other than the difference in their socio-economic background, the members of both these centres have a lot in common: stress, loneliness, a lack of selfesteem... the list is endless.
LONG WAY TO GO
Dr K.P. George, a retired professor from Government Medical College, Kottayam, believes that Pakal Veedu is a progressive idea that will soon become the social norm. Yet, the disparities persist. Members are almost always women, especially widows. The reasons for this vary.
Perhaps it is because they are older, more spiritual and are usually house-bound and, therefore, relish such interactions. These centres depend on donations. The counsellors and guest speakers work for free. Though the two up-scale centres at Manganam and Kurichy charge a nominal fee, the expenses entailed are at least double the amount they get from members.
But the biggest hurdle of all is the lack of awareness. "That Pakal Veedu is still an obscure endeavour and is not being sufficiently patronised is very discouraging," says Thomas. But for women like Aliyamma, this is the best perk of being old. "If my fisherwoman sees me at home on Pakal Veedu days, she asks, `Hey, didn't you go to your school, today?'" [rc]
Copyright © 2009, The Hindu Business Line.
August 7, 2009
INDIA: Just not home alone
.
KOTTAYAM, Kerala / THE HINDU Business Line / Life / Social Care / August 7, 2009
A day-care centre that helps elderly people laugh away the blues andform meaningful bonds with their peer group.
By Shwetha E. George, Women's Feature Service
Home for the day: Seniors bond at Pakal Veedu, a day-carecentre for the elderly in Kottayam, Kerala. WFS
Liyamma was born rich but had to wait 76 years to celebrate her first birthday party. Her parents belonged to a generation that probably never baked a cake and her children felt that she didn't need it, certainly not at her age. But at Pakal Veedu, the day-care centre for the aged in Kottayam, Kerala, Liyamma blew hard to put out the candles on her birthday cake. She was blowing away more than just the candle flames; she was extinguishing her loneliness and depression.
"When she first came here," says Tito Thomas, a counsellor with a degree in theology who runs Pakal Veeduwith his wife, Shanthi, "she couldn't even feed herself". A few months later, she was a happy, lively and confident woman who even began wearing churidars.
Today, Liyamma is no more. But the two years of regular attendance at this nouveau facility had transformed her completely. Her fellow members feel Pakal Veedu didn't just give her a life; it also prepared her to face death.
BEING AMONG PEERS
The influence of a peer group is no less important for the aged than it is for the young. In fact, it is more important for the elderly because the need for fellowship increases as one grows older. But one reason why Pakal Veedu hasn't become a raging new fad is because it is difficult to convince the older generation, weaned on years of sacrifice and selflessness, that they also need time with `friends.'
The concept of Pakal Veedu was borrowed from the West by a prominent priest of Kerala's Mar Thoma Diocese during his theological training in the US. Rev. Fr. Samuel John started an NGO called Smile India, under which three Pakal Veedu centres run by its board members were established in Kodimatha, Kurichy and Manganam `panchayats' (village councils) in Kottayam.
In contrast to old-age homes, Pakal Veedu does not uproot the old from their homes. "As you grow older, you get accustomed to routine," says Thomas, "and your bed and your coffee cup become dear." In an old-age home, one is deprived of one's belongings and forced to live under restrictions. "Here, we come of our own volition," says Lucy, 77, belonging to an upper middle-class family in Kottayam.
She and her sister-in-law regularly visit the Manganam centre thrice a week. Adds Rachel, 80, another regular at the centre, "Everything is informal. We can ask for a cup of tea during the prayer session or lie down in between a game when we feel tired."
NURTURING POSITIVE ATTITUDE
For members of the day-care centre, their day out starts from the time the Pakal Veedu van picks them up from their homes. Since the Manganam Pakal Veedu has affluent members, each one pays a membership fee of Rs 60 a day. Activities range from cooking, therapy to aerobics.
They do admit that were it not for the conveyance facility, they would be stuck at home. So, do they feel three days a week is not enough? Says Mariamma, 73, "We can come out on these three days at least!" Then why does the Manganam centre not have more than 10 members? "Because everybody feels that this is an option only for the lonely and the uncared," says Aliyamma.
Her children accuse her of demeaning them. They feel that her presence at Pakal Veedu is proof of her feelings of neglect at home. "They don't understand that I need to spend time away from them as well," she says.
But some other families are happy to have this option because it helps their parents have a positive attitude on life, making them easier to live with.
Of the three centres, the one at Kodimatha caters to the lower middle-class. The members here are women over 60 years and are either destitute or neglected. Of the 12 regular attendees, 10 live in poverty. They come to the centre twice a week, taking free rides on private buses, for a five-hour fellowship which includes prayer, lunch, games and some exercise.
Sara, 93, became a widow at 22 and singlehandedly raised her son by working as a maid in various houses. "Today, I work as a sweeper in the veterinary hospital and earn Rs 750 a month," she says. She attends an evangelical centre every week because they give her a free meal, old clothes and some travel allowance. The last time her son visited her, he gave her Rs 20.
Two unmarried sisters, Ammini and Chachy also attend the Kodimatha centre twice a week, more for the free meal and bus fare than the games and interaction. "There are days when we have lived on just gruel water," she says, adding that she has forgotten what milk and eggs taste like. Their parents died early and one brother who is still alive does not wish to keep in touch.
However, other than the difference in their socio-economic background, the members of both these centres have a lot in common: stress, loneliness, a lack of selfesteem... the list is endless.
LONG WAY TO GO
Dr K.P. George, a retired professor from Government Medical College, Kottayam, believes that Pakal Veedu is a progressive idea that will soon become the social norm. Yet, the disparities persist. Members are almost always women, especially widows. The reasons for this vary.
Perhaps it is because they are older, more spiritual and are usually house-bound and, therefore, relish such interactions. These centres depend on donations. The counsellors and guest speakers work for free. Though the two up-scale centres at Manganam and Kurichy charge a nominal fee, the expenses entailed are at least double the amount they get from members.
But the biggest hurdle of all is the lack of awareness. "That Pakal Veedu is still an obscure endeavour and is not being sufficiently patronised is very discouraging," says Thomas. But for women like Aliyamma, this is the best perk of being old. "If my fisherwoman sees me at home on Pakal Veedu days, she asks, `Hey, didn't you go to your school, today?'" [rc]
Copyright © 2009, The Hindu Business Line.
Home for the day: Seniors bond at Pakal Veedu, a day-carecentre for the elderly in Kottayam, Kerala. WFS
Liyamma was born rich but had to wait 76 years to celebrate her first birthday party. Her parents belonged to a generation that probably never baked a cake and her children felt that she didn't need it, certainly not at her age. But at Pakal Veedu, the day-care centre for the aged in Kottayam, Kerala, Liyamma blew hard to put out the candles on her birthday cake. She was blowing away more than just the candle flames; she was extinguishing her loneliness and depression.
"When she first came here," says Tito Thomas, a counsellor with a degree in theology who runs Pakal Veeduwith his wife, Shanthi, "she couldn't even feed herself". A few months later, she was a happy, lively and confident woman who even began wearing churidars.
Today, Liyamma is no more. But the two years of regular attendance at this nouveau facility had transformed her completely. Her fellow members feel Pakal Veedu didn't just give her a life; it also prepared her to face death.
BEING AMONG PEERS
The influence of a peer group is no less important for the aged than it is for the young. In fact, it is more important for the elderly because the need for fellowship increases as one grows older. But one reason why Pakal Veedu hasn't become a raging new fad is because it is difficult to convince the older generation, weaned on years of sacrifice and selflessness, that they also need time with `friends.'
The concept of Pakal Veedu was borrowed from the West by a prominent priest of Kerala's Mar Thoma Diocese during his theological training in the US. Rev. Fr. Samuel John started an NGO called Smile India, under which three Pakal Veedu centres run by its board members were established in Kodimatha, Kurichy and Manganam `panchayats' (village councils) in Kottayam.
In contrast to old-age homes, Pakal Veedu does not uproot the old from their homes. "As you grow older, you get accustomed to routine," says Thomas, "and your bed and your coffee cup become dear." In an old-age home, one is deprived of one's belongings and forced to live under restrictions. "Here, we come of our own volition," says Lucy, 77, belonging to an upper middle-class family in Kottayam.
She and her sister-in-law regularly visit the Manganam centre thrice a week. Adds Rachel, 80, another regular at the centre, "Everything is informal. We can ask for a cup of tea during the prayer session or lie down in between a game when we feel tired."
NURTURING POSITIVE ATTITUDE
For members of the day-care centre, their day out starts from the time the Pakal Veedu van picks them up from their homes. Since the Manganam Pakal Veedu has affluent members, each one pays a membership fee of Rs 60 a day. Activities range from cooking, therapy to aerobics.
They do admit that were it not for the conveyance facility, they would be stuck at home. So, do they feel three days a week is not enough? Says Mariamma, 73, "We can come out on these three days at least!" Then why does the Manganam centre not have more than 10 members? "Because everybody feels that this is an option only for the lonely and the uncared," says Aliyamma.
Her children accuse her of demeaning them. They feel that her presence at Pakal Veedu is proof of her feelings of neglect at home. "They don't understand that I need to spend time away from them as well," she says.
But some other families are happy to have this option because it helps their parents have a positive attitude on life, making them easier to live with.
Of the three centres, the one at Kodimatha caters to the lower middle-class. The members here are women over 60 years and are either destitute or neglected. Of the 12 regular attendees, 10 live in poverty. They come to the centre twice a week, taking free rides on private buses, for a five-hour fellowship which includes prayer, lunch, games and some exercise.
Sara, 93, became a widow at 22 and singlehandedly raised her son by working as a maid in various houses. "Today, I work as a sweeper in the veterinary hospital and earn Rs 750 a month," she says. She attends an evangelical centre every week because they give her a free meal, old clothes and some travel allowance. The last time her son visited her, he gave her Rs 20.
Two unmarried sisters, Ammini and Chachy also attend the Kodimatha centre twice a week, more for the free meal and bus fare than the games and interaction. "There are days when we have lived on just gruel water," she says, adding that she has forgotten what milk and eggs taste like. Their parents died early and one brother who is still alive does not wish to keep in touch.
However, other than the difference in their socio-economic background, the members of both these centres have a lot in common: stress, loneliness, a lack of selfesteem... the list is endless.
LONG WAY TO GO
Dr K.P. George, a retired professor from Government Medical College, Kottayam, believes that Pakal Veedu is a progressive idea that will soon become the social norm. Yet, the disparities persist. Members are almost always women, especially widows. The reasons for this vary.
Perhaps it is because they are older, more spiritual and are usually house-bound and, therefore, relish such interactions. These centres depend on donations. The counsellors and guest speakers work for free. Though the two up-scale centres at Manganam and Kurichy charge a nominal fee, the expenses entailed are at least double the amount they get from members.
But the biggest hurdle of all is the lack of awareness. "That Pakal Veedu is still an obscure endeavour and is not being sufficiently patronised is very discouraging," says Thomas. But for women like Aliyamma, this is the best perk of being old. "If my fisherwoman sees me at home on Pakal Veedu days, she asks, `Hey, didn't you go to your school, today?'" [rc]
Copyright © 2009, The Hindu Business Line.
