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Friday, November 13, 2009
May 26, 2009. Tuesday: An eighty year old lady
It had been an hour and half since the clock struck midnight. My ambition to land at least one job with midnight surcharge before going home was now in full retreat. I had been cruising nonstop around CBD, passing through all the major nightspots. No luck. Tuesdays are always the slowest of the week. I decided to call it a day.
On my way home, I stopped at a 7/11 store on McCallum St to get some cigarettes. Next to the store’s entrance, in the shadow of the sidewalk, I noticed an old woman lying on the ground under the shelter of the arcade. She was resting on some empty, partially flattened cardboard boxes, and looked sound asleep. Scattered around her were some more empty boxes in various sizes, along with a small, rundown flatbed trolley. I paused for a moment in my tracks, wondering if she was ill or in need of help. I was hesitant to disturb her, however.
After I came out of the store, I saw two young ladies standing in front of the old woman and talking to her, who was now awake and sitting up against a pile of boxes. One of the girls was holding a blanket in her hand. They were talking to the old woman gingerly, apparently trying to give her the blanket. The old lady, however, seemed too tired to respond with any movement, other than mumbling something in a weak voice.
I came closer and stood next to the girls, and heard the old woman saying in Chinese, “I was too tired. I fell asleep without knowing it. I will be going very soon.” She said it apologetically, as if she was confessing something she had done very wrong.
“Can you speak Chinese?” One of the girls turned to me and asked. I said yes. She then asked me to tell the woman that this blanket was for her. So I did. But she didn’t seem to have heard me. She responded, “I am tired and have to have a rest before I can get up and going again.”
I said to the girls that she appeared to have a hearing problem, and she had probably mistaken us for someone who wanted to chase her out of here. One of the girls stepped close to the woman and laid the blanket gently on her legs and said, “This is for you.” After that, they left.
Both girls were locals and looked to be in their mid twenties. The blanket they left to the old woman was brand new. They must have bought it just now and right here in the 7/11 store after they saw the lady sleeping on the ground. Their generosity and caring spirits made me feel a little guilty in comparison.
After the girls left, I decided to stay a while longer to see if I could convince the woman into letting me drive her home, as she said she was too tired to move just now.
She was in her seventies at least, wearing a grey shirt and a pair of pants in a darker color. Both were badly wrinkled and dusted with dirt. Though she looked slightly better than a few moments ago, and her voice was a bit louder and clearer, she obviously remained weak and fragile. Her hearing was seriously impaired and despite my repeated attempts to speak to her, she did not respond as if she had understood me.
She, however, was in a mood of doing one way talking. She first lifted up the blanket from her leg and said to me, “They are so kind. I don’t need this. It will get dirty here.” She placed it carefully on top of a carton box. Then she motioned me to sit down near her, and pulled up her pants to expose her lower part of the legs from ankle to knee. The appearance of her legs astonished me. They were like thin, dead tree trunks: rugged surface and in black color. While pressing her legs with a finger at random spots, she carried on nonchalantly, “My legs no good anymore. I get tired easily. My legs used to be red, you know, like chilly pepper. After the doctors did operations on me, they became totally black.
“I was in hospital three times. One time I stayed in bed for three weeks and never came down. My hands, too, you see. Three of the fingers in each hand are frozen. Can not use anymore. Only this two (thumb and index) can move. I can not comb my hair. Can not use chopsticks also.”
At this moment, a man emerged from a narrow alley next to the 7/11 store. He was between 35 and 40 years of age, and had a bicycle with him. He was obviously here for the lady. He shot me an inquisitive look, as he spoke something to the lady in a raised voice. The lady opened a styrofoam box next to her and took out a plastic bag containing a few bottles and some other containers, all appeared to be empty, and handed to him.
I was glad to see the man as I had not been able to communicate with the woman. I first put him at ease by saying that I was just a taxi driver and was trying to see if the lady needed any help. Then I told him that I wanted to give her a ride home but could not get her to understand me. He said she could not hear properly. And she wouldn’t be going home tonight, because she needed to go to some place nearby tomorrow morning to collect discarded boxes. I asked if he was related to her and he said he was not. But he added that he had been helping her for the last 15 years. “Does she have any children?” I asked.
“Yes. She has two sons and a daughter.” He answered. “I have met them.”
“Do they take care of their mother?”
He shook his head and said nothing. He then told me that every day in the past fifteen years, he comes to the lady twice a day. Once in the middle of night to check on her and collect the bag and comes again before 8 in the morning to bring her food and water, and help her cut the boxes, load them on the trolley and bring them to the recycling center to exchange for money. 50 kg for $2. She used to carry 50kg herself. But not anymore. She is over 80 years old and her legs have got some lymphatic vessel problems. “Now is almost 2, so I only sleep a few hours a day. I have my own job to do in Bt Merah during the day. I have to go now.” He put the plastic bag inside a basket mounted on his bicycle and said goodbye to me, and left.
After he was gone, the lady patted the styrofoam box at her side and said, “My ice are all gone now. I have to drink cold water. I get fire in my chest if I don’t. Burning hot. Drives me crazy. I have to drink ice cold water to stay alive. Every day he fills the bottles with water and brings to me with some ice. I keep them in this box. Now, no more.”
“You give me a minute.” I said. I went to 7/11 and came back with a bottle of ice cold fruit drink. The lady took it and held it to her chest, and thanked me. She then said, “Some people think I am too fussy, you know, having to drink cold water. They don’t know I have no choice. It’s burning inside here.”
I took out $10 and put it on her legs, and said, “Here is some more money. You can buy more cold drinks after you finish this one.” She didn’t hear what I said but she understood it. She took the money and said thank you again.
I left after that. It was passed two already. I made a mental note that I will come back here tomorrow to check on the woman again.
I went home by New Bridge Road. The street was empty, with only a few cars and taxis parked along the curb in front of a couple restaurants that open all night long. I picked up speed.
Suddenly, before the cantonment road junction, a man leaped out of the darkness of the roadside and ran into the middle of the road with his arm extended, and made me stop abruptly. It was a white man. He was in his forties and told me to go to Pandan Valley by Grange Road.
I gritted my teeth and drove silently towards Pandan Valley by the way he wanted. Privately, I was very annoyed with him for jumping on the road like that. I almost hit him! But then again, had he stayed off the road, I would have probably missed him.
When we reached his place, the meter fare was $8. With the midnight surcharge, the total was $12 exact.
Rather than feeling pleased that I had finally accomplished my goal, I felt somewhat eerie. This was exactly what I had given to the old lady just a moment ago!
Posted by Mingjie Cai at 10:13 AM 87 comments Links to this post
May 26, 2009. Tuesday: An eighty year old lady
It had been an hour and half since the clock struck midnight. My ambition to land at least one job with midnight surcharge before going home was now in full retreat. I had been cruising nonstop around CBD, passing through all the major nightspots. No luck. Tuesdays are always the slowest of the week. I decided to call it a day.
On my way home, I stopped at a 7/11 store on McCallum St to get some cigarettes. Next to the store’s entrance, in the shadow of the sidewalk, I noticed an old woman lying on the ground under the shelter of the arcade. She was resting on some empty, partially flattened cardboard boxes, and looked sound asleep. Scattered around her were some more empty boxes in various sizes, along with a small, rundown flatbed trolley. I paused for a moment in my tracks, wondering if she was ill or in need of help. I was hesitant to disturb her, however.
After I came out of the store, I saw two young ladies standing in front of the old woman and talking to her, who was now awake and sitting up against a pile of boxes. One of the girls was holding a blanket in her hand. They were talking to the old woman gingerly, apparently trying to give her the blanket. The old lady, however, seemed too tired to respond with any movement, other than mumbling something in a weak voice.
I came closer and stood next to the girls, and heard the old woman saying in Chinese, “I was too tired. I fell asleep without knowing it. I will be going very soon.” She said it apologetically, as if she was confessing something she had done very wrong.
“Can you speak Chinese?” One of the girls turned to me and asked. I said yes. She then asked me to tell the woman that this blanket was for her. So I did. But she didn’t seem to have heard me. She responded, “I am tired and have to have a rest before I can get up and going again.”
I said to the girls that she appeared to have a hearing problem, and she had probably mistaken us for someone who wanted to chase her out of here. One of the girls stepped close to the woman and laid the blanket gently on her legs and said, “This is for you.” After that, they left.
Both girls were locals and looked to be in their mid twenties. The blanket they left to the old woman was brand new. They must have bought it just now and right here in the 7/11 store after they saw the lady sleeping on the ground. Their generosity and caring spirits made me feel a little guilty in comparison.
After the girls left, I decided to stay a while longer to see if I could convince the woman into letting me drive her home, as she said she was too tired to move just now.
She was in her seventies at least, wearing a grey shirt and a pair of pants in a darker color. Both were badly wrinkled and dusted with dirt. Though she looked slightly better than a few moments ago, and her voice was a bit louder and clearer, she obviously remained weak and fragile. Her hearing was seriously impaired and despite my repeated attempts to speak to her, she did not respond as if she had understood me.
She, however, was in a mood of doing one way talking. She first lifted up the blanket from her leg and said to me, “They are so kind. I don’t need this. It will get dirty here.” She placed it carefully on top of a carton box. Then she motioned me to sit down near her, and pulled up her pants to expose her lower part of the legs from ankle to knee. The appearance of her legs astonished me. They were like thin, dead tree trunks: rugged surface and in black color. While pressing her legs with a finger at random spots, she carried on nonchalantly, “My legs no good anymore. I get tired easily. My legs used to be red, you know, like chilly pepper. After the doctors did operations on me, they became totally black.
“I was in hospital three times. One time I stayed in bed for three weeks and never came down. My hands, too, you see. Three of the fingers in each hand are frozen. Can not use anymore. Only this two (thumb and index) can move. I can not comb my hair. Can not use chopsticks also.”
At this moment, a man emerged from a narrow alley next to the 7/11 store. He was between 35 and 40 years of age, and had a bicycle with him. He was obviously here for the lady. He shot me an inquisitive look, as he spoke something to the lady in a raised voice. The lady opened a styrofoam box next to her and took out a plastic bag containing a few bottles and some other containers, all appeared to be empty, and handed to him.
I was glad to see the man as I had not been able to communicate with the woman. I first put him at ease by saying that I was just a taxi driver and was trying to see if the lady needed any help. Then I told him that I wanted to give her a ride home but could not get her to understand me. He said she could not hear properly. And she wouldn’t be going home tonight, because she needed to go to some place nearby tomorrow morning to collect discarded boxes. I asked if he was related to her and he said he was not. But he added that he had been helping her for the last 15 years. “Does she have any children?” I asked.
“Yes. She has two sons and a daughter.” He answered. “I have met them.”
“Do they take care of their mother?”
He shook his head and said nothing. He then told me that every day in the past fifteen years, he comes to the lady twice a day. Once in the middle of night to check on her and collect the bag and comes again before 8 in the morning to bring her food and water, and help her cut the boxes, load them on the trolley and bring them to the recycling center to exchange for money. 50 kg for $2. She used to carry 50kg herself. But not anymore. She is over 80 years old and her legs have got some lymphatic vessel problems. “Now is almost 2, so I only sleep a few hours a day. I have my own job to do in Bt Merah during the day. I have to go now.” He put the plastic bag inside a basket mounted on his bicycle and said goodbye to me, and left.
After he was gone, the lady patted the styrofoam box at her side and said, “My ice are all gone now. I have to drink cold water. I get fire in my chest if I don’t. Burning hot. Drives me crazy. I have to drink ice cold water to stay alive. Every day he fills the bottles with water and brings to me with some ice. I keep them in this box. Now, no more.”
“You give me a minute.” I said. I went to 7/11 and came back with a bottle of ice cold fruit drink. The lady took it and held it to her chest, and thanked me. She then said, “Some people think I am too fussy, you know, having to drink cold water. They don’t know I have no choice. It’s burning inside here.”
I took out $10 and put it on her legs, and said, “Here is some more money. You can buy more cold drinks after you finish this one.” She didn’t hear what I said but she understood it. She took the money and said thank you again.
I left after that. It was passed two already. I made a mental note that I will come back here tomorrow to check on the woman again.
I went home by New Bridge Road. The street was empty, with only a few cars and taxis parked along the curb in front of a couple restaurants that open all night long. I picked up speed.
Suddenly, before the cantonment road junction, a man leaped out of the darkness of the roadside and ran into the middle of the road with his arm extended, and made me stop abruptly. It was a white man. He was in his forties and told me to go to Pandan Valley by Grange Road.
I gritted my teeth and drove silently towards Pandan Valley by the way he wanted. Privately, I was very annoyed with him for jumping on the road like that. I almost hit him! But then again, had he stayed off the road, I would have probably missed him.
When we reached his place, the meter fare was $8. With the midnight surcharge, the total was $12 exact.
Rather than feeling pleased that I had finally accomplished my goal, I felt somewhat eerie. This was exactly what I had given to the old lady just a moment ago!
Posted by Mingjie Cai at 10:13 AM 87 comments Links to this post
