The Storyteller
Our political stances are separated by class, but our lives are separated by generations. Our age is generally a main factor in whom we hang out with, what decisions we make and how our lives relate to one another. What touches me more so than anything is seeing our elders. Of course the typical and biased assumptions are old & grumpy, old & cute, old & whatever else you associate older people with. To me, they’re just cute (some grumpy) and filled with life.
Vietnam sheds no different light on the elder. What I find hardest to do is see an elderly beggar, it just breaks my heart. I often times try to avoid eye contact because once I get a glimpse of their facial expressions or glare in their eye, I can’t help but ponder. It’s as if their entire life flashes before me. What are their names? What have they gone through, imagine all the love & hate & trials after trials of life they’ve gone through to be where they are at now.
I remember this Vietnamese lady that came by to visit Hong Kong 4 (an asian shopping mall in Houston) and sat in front of my kiosk quite often. She’d squat on the ground or sat on the bench directly across from me. She was frail, about 4’11 and weighed maybe 80-90 pounds. Her hair was in a bun and she wore an Ao ba ba (traditional Vietnamese clothing typically worn by the elders today). She’d sit in place quietly for some time and then she starts to babble folklores and spoke aloud as if she had a vast audience amongst the open space ahead of her. As I drove home from work one day, I saw her walking along the sidewalk near the back of the mall. I slowed down a bit to glare at her inquisitively and went on about my day. Every one just told me that she was a bit mentally ill and somewhere down the line, someone even mentioned that her kids drop her off at the mall to exercise and amuse herself. They usually pick her back up before dusk, it was quite routine.
I wonder if the tales she told were of her actual life experiences and even if they weren’t, did she just want an audience. Aside from her mental disability, she could’ve possibly just wanted someone to listen to her. I am 23 years old and sometimes I don’t want to hear my own thoughts remotely, it’s nice to share and have some one to listen. What we fail to recognize is that whether or not these stories are believable, some people just want to be heard. Maybe a novel about love or a nonfictional documentary about a war they once lived through, an 80 year old person has 8 decades of experience and stories to be heard. Their knowledge could be of great treasure to us.
The most amazing thing to me is to watch & know that my niece and nephew interact with my parents. I think it is so important for kids to grow up with grandparents around. Although my parents don’t really tell much stories to my niece and nephew, but if they ever asked, my parents would have 6 decades each of stories to share. That’s a lot of life.
We all have a history, at the end of the day our lives are made up of moments. Some people could relive a moment in their mind for a lifetime. Allowing them to share their moments with you allows them to share their happiness as well.
+ Big Fish : A great movie to watch about the elders, storytelling, and a bond.
“Big Fish is about what’s real and what’s fantastic, what’s true and what’s not true, what’s partially true and how, in the end, it’s all true.” – Tim Burton.
Until next time. We bid you farewell! ^_^
Thanks for this post, Brittany.
I thought I was the only one who avoid to make eyes contact with the old lady or old man on the street because I couldn’t bear seeing them struggling, finding a way to make a living at that age. Even after giving them the money, I know that it will only help them for that day, but not a day later, or a week later. And then, they still have to do what they usually do to be able to survive.
I often wonder if they have children and if they do, why did their children leave them to wander around the street and beg strangers for money. Is it their children that poor? Or is it their children abandoned them? Abandoned their own parents….Why did they end up like this…I don’t know. The only thing I know is yes, each of them all have a story to tell…
Ange! I’m making it my mission to ask the elder, at their convenience of course, to share their stories to me. I did it today with the vendor lady I quite often visit. I wrote about it in my next entry, enjoy! Hopefully one day i’ll be able to visually document this all.