Celia Hatton BBC News, Fujian province,
China
China has the fastest-ageing population in
human history but the state provides very little support for
elderly people. Ageing parents have traditionally been looked after
by their children - but in today's China that is not always the
case.
China has a lot of orphanages for children. But the
Ji Xiang temple has an entirely different purpose - it's an
orphanage for the elderly.
High in the mountains of China's southern Fujian
province, the temple has all of the things you might expect to see
in a Buddhist sanctuary. A giant Buddha statue dominates the
cavernous main building, filling it with a golden glow. Outside, a
beautifully sculpted garden is dotted with small stone
statues.
But look closely and other things reveal the
temple's main function: handrails along the steps and rows of
medication bottles in a cabinet in the hall.
Dozens of elderly people are living their final
years here. Some are too poor to go elsewhere. Others have no
children to care for them. But most have simply been abandoned by
their families. In extremely poor communities, once they can no
longer work, they're considered to be a burden.
"In this area, there's not much family loyalty,"
explains the temple's head nun, Neng Qing. "Old people are really
suffering. In a neighbouring village, there was one old person who
had eight children. Every morning, he went to each of the
children's families but no-one even invited him in for breakfast.
The village contacted us, but it was too late. He had already
committed suicide."
At 81, Neng Qing still runs the whole operation,
travelling into villages to rescue elderly people who are dying
from lack of care.
"It's heartbreaking when we go to pick up these
people from their homes because some of them have been sick for a
long time. Sometimes, daughters-in-law make their husbands abandon
their mothers because they've lost the ability to work. They're in
such bad health that we have to carry them out on a stretcher, but
then we nurse them back to health."
The temple runs on a strict schedule, starting at
4am every morning. All the residents are expected to rise in order
to study Buddhist texts. An hour-long chanting ceremony follows
before breakfast is served. The same pattern continues throughout
the day: reading, chanting, eating, resting, until everyone sleeps
shortly after dark.
"We all watch out for each other," Neng Qing says.
"I used to wake up twice a night to change the heating pads under
the bed covers for the residents, but now they help each other. The
80-year-olds help the 100-year-olds."
The entire place is so clean and orderly that it's
easy to forget that many of the residents have escaped from a
nightmare.
Two tiny sisters who share a room on the ground
floor are a perfect example. Shi YuPing is 92 and Shi Guazi is 86.
Both have white hair pinned neatly behind their ears. Guazi coddles
her older sister, combing her hair and fixing the pins.
"No-one cared for me at home. My four sons wouldn't
look after me there," she says. "My home isn't as good as this
place. If it was good, I would have stayed."
When Shi Guazi arrived at the temple, she was
painfully thin because her children had refused to feed her more
than a single bowl of rice a day.
A year later, her older sister followed her, and for
the last decade, they've lived together in the temple.
Many worry who will care for the rest of China's
elderly, currently numbering 220 million. China has the fastest
ageing population in human history, according to the World Bank. By
2050, more than 40% of the population will be over the age of
60.
Traditionally, every generation of a Chinese family
lived under the same roof. But that system is facing serious
challenges in modern, mobile China. Now, just 38% of people over
the age of 60 live with their adult children, according to a major
study by Chinese and American researchers released in 2013. Just
over half of those living alone received financial support from
their children.
Adult children often live close to their parents,
but modern apartment blocks don't have room for many generations of
a family to live together. In poorer families, children often
migrate to other parts of the country for work, leaving elderly
parents behind.
There is little support for elderly people when they
reach the end of their lives. In a recent "quality of death" survey
by the Economist Intelligence Unit assessing end-of-life care
offered in 80 countries around the world, China came in the bottom
10, due to its lack of hospice facilities, unaffordable hospital
care and lack of community support. In the same survey, the UK
ranked number one.
In China's cities, the government is rushing to deal
with the problem. In Fujian's Sanming City, a short drive from the
temple, the government is rushing to address the needs of its
booming elderly population. A new seniors' centre just opened its
doors, putting free basic medical care and community services under
one roof. Another 13 are slated to open nearby.
But even the local Communist Party Secretary admits
the centres are "experiments".
"Only relying on the government for elderly care
isn't enough," Su Yitai admits. "That's why we're trying out a new
model that combines government, community and family support to try
to build a new system that fits Chinese society."
And even greater challenges lie in the countryside,
Su says. Poverty is a serious problem in the Chinese countryside -
65% of elderly people living in rural areas live below the poverty
line, compared to just 11% in cities.
If a relatively wealthy city is struggling to
provide services to a dense neighbourhood, how much harder will it
be to extend care to elderly people dotted in tiny villages across
China?
The Ji Xiang temple is one of the few places in
China offering free end-of-life care. The residents appear to be
profoundly grateful for the things they have received - thick
cotton coats to keep them warm and heavy blankets for their
beds.
At four o'clock every afternoon, the residents
change into heavy brown robes for the last chanting ceremony of the
day. As they wait for the ritual to begin inside the main temple,
some of the women hug each other, admiring each other's
robes.
Here, there is some comfort and community. In this
small part of China, there is dignity in life and, eventually, in
death.