Mr. Di Lives Like in Heaven: A Home for the Elderly

by Beate Engelen

A whimsical smile plays on Old Di Guohua’s weather-beaten face as he tells the story of how he got here. He is how you picture a perfect grandpa. We are standing in the central courtyard of the Jian’nan Home of the Elderly. The dusty afternoon sunlight of northern China warms our skin.

As a miner in the coal pits of Baotou, a sooty city in Inner Mongolia, Mr. Di was at the frontline of China’s struggle to create the heavy industry-driven economy of the Mao era. Unlike today, all the industries at the time were state-owned, guaranteeing workers a respectable livelihood when they reached retirement age.

A pension of CNY 1600 per month has provided 83-year-old Mr. Di with enough money to live comfortably, but he has no one to take care of him. With his wife having passed away years ago and his five children working for their own living, the old man faces what in China is called the “empty nest” — a situation dreaded by a lot of older people.

About two years ago, he got the opportunity to move into the Jian’nan Home of the Elderly, which was founded by a local church in 2001. For CNY 500 a month, he is completely cared for by the nursing home.

Fate of elder people

Mr. Di belongs to a growing group of people who need attention as they grow old because their children are unable or not willing to look after them. Chinese society faces the daunting prospect of dealing with a swiftly ageing population. Today, 11% of the population are older than 60. This number is projected to rise to 30% by 2050. Costs will also go up. Estimates say that in the year 2030, 10% of national income will have to be spent on 300 million old people.

Senior citizens with regular retirement pay are a minority in China. Of the 143 million people in their 60s and older, only 38 million (just above a quarter) were covered by old-age payment schemes in 2003, according to the Asian Development Bank. Those living in the countryside depend financially on their children when they grow old.

City residents like Mr. Di, who worked for a state-owned enterprise, receive pensions provided by their former work units. Even though Mr. Di was a blue-collar worker all his life, he belongs to the small privileged group of city dwellers who receive state-funded pensions. Fortunately, these people can pay for their own board and lodging — if they find a place at one of the few nursing homes.

Mr. Di was more than happy to trade his life spent in an empty flat for a more joyful existence at the Jian’nan Home of the Elderly. He likes watching TV and chatting with people in the central courtyard, right next to the church building, where clients of the nursing home can gather for a game of chess or Mahjong.

A positive atmosphere

The whole atmosphere of the site breathes tranquility. Trees spread their branches over the benches and walk-ways, providing shadow. Homely single-story buildings, grouped around the central yard, keep out the dry winds blowing into Baotou from the plains of the Gobi desert. Once a month, students from the local Science and Technology University stop by to sing with the elderly and read out the newspaper. For those elderly clients like Mr. Di, who are Christians, the church is only a few steps away. “I am happier here than I was at home,” says Mr. Di, who has put on 40 pounds of weight since he arrived here. And with a touch of irony he adds: “It’s almost like being in heaven.”

As the state remains reluctant to come up with comprehensive schemes for elderly care, the role of the church in providing social services is bound to become more important in the future. In Baotou, a local church has already shown that offering such a service can become a success. Since 2004, all the rooms of the Jian’nan Home of the Elderly have been occupied. The waiting list has recently grown to more than 200 names.

Worries remain

Still, finances remain a big worry to Zhang Yekai, the director of the institution. The Jian’nan Home of the Elderly cannot turn to the government for subsidies. It has to rely on the contributions of clients like Mr. Di. But not everybody can be asked to pay the full amount. For 38 of the 110 clients, fees are already being waived because they cannot afford them. Missing funds have to be made up for by donations from church members, contributions from the Amity Foundation and other sources.

Visiting the Jian'nan Home for the Elderly

Another worry is finding capable staff. Specially trained personnel is rare in China. People who work as nurses for the elderly are often non-professionals. Some are migrant workers from the countryside who have worked as peasants all their lives. Others are laid-off workers from the cities who have lost their jobs because, at 40, they are considered unfit for hard physical labor by employers and replaced by younger workers. Looking after old people may seem a good alternative job to some of them — but nursing is, of course, very different from anything they have done before. This is why Amity has stepped in to make sure that staffers receive further training.

Close relationships

Working at a big nursing home is not always easy. The age of the clients ranges from 30 to 97 years (the younger clients are disabled). The nurse works every single day of the year and does not even go back home for Spring Festival. She has to find somebody herself to substitute her in case she has to ask for a leave. But, she says, she is happiest when all of her patients are doing well. Good relationships with the clients have a high priority among staff. To nurses like Zhang Xiaolan, a 45-year-old Christian, who has worked at the Jian’nan Home of the Elderly for five years, this is very important: “The longer I serve here,” says she, “the more I get the feeling the old people are my grandma and grandpa.” That is more good news for Mr. Di.