SENIOR CITIZENS IN SANTA MONICA Francis Lobo [EMAIL PROTECTED]
As I walked the beach of Santa Monica I came across the Senior Citizens Recreation Center. Being eligible, I entered. "Ohio?" this old Japane= se near the entrance asked me. "No, India", I replied. The receptionist educated me, "It is the Japanese way of saying, 'Oh! How are you?'" "How old are you?" I foolishly asked a guy, who looked like Rip Van Winkle, the fictitious character who woke up after sleeping some twenty years or so. "Very old," he replied. All ladies at the Center have just become seniors, even if they are moving around in wheel chairs. A Japanese man, who used to sit quietly in the corner, had died two months ago and the general concern was that too many deaths were taking place too fast. "Another 30 years and I too will be gone", complained this fellow who was hitting 90. At the Center, people are identified by characteristics --- tall, thin, Japanese -- not by names, which people don=E2=80=99t remember. This lady across me crossed over to read the name of the man next to me, when he went to the Men=E2=80=99s Room -- he had written it on his paper tray cloth. She obviously had a crush on him. I was titillated by the overtures some oldies were making to other oldies of the opposite sex. I learned some techniques to use myself -- You look younger by the day... I thought it was your daughter who had come... I saw a flower this morning & thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen -- till I saw you... Your secret is a threat to the cosmetic business... You grow more beautiful each day... I had to repeat every statement three times -- either the people were deaf or they didn't understand English, which is rarely spoken in Santa Monica, the capital of the United Nations of America. You have people from every conceivable ethnic group on this planet. Even Japanese are learning to differentiate themselves, like the Indians. They indicate from which village they come by using words only spoken in that particular area. This English lady from London confessed to me that, after coming here, she no longer knew whether her spelling was English or American or in the new computer language where you type as you pronounce like 'y-it' for 'white'. People have unique ways of telling about their ailments. Such as: My knees are aging faster than the rest of my body. I am discovering daily new parts of my anatomy by the pains I am getting. My bones creak so loudly, I wake up the grand children when I visit the toilet at night. The Center also offers opportunities for exercise -- ballroom dancing. This lady found it quite exciting taking these older men into her arms and moving them around like children. I moved away when she asked me if I was interested. "Why do you come to the Center?" "For a free view of the ocean and the sunset. There is also a free snack." I signed up for one. Against each name was an 'M' or an 'F'. I naturally put 'M', only to find out that M stood for meat and F for fish. They say, never assume that things mean what they are supposed to mean. ------------------------------------------------------------------ GOANET READER welcomes contributions from its readers, by way of essays, reviews, features and think-pieces. We share quality Goa-related writing among the Goanet family of mailing lists. Please do send in your feedback to the writer. Our writers share their writing pro bono. Goanet Reader welcomes your feedback at [email protected] and is edited by Frederick Noronha [EMAIL PROTECTED]
