Her Smile

It wasn’t the world’s ideal of beauty that made her beautiful. Her skin was wrinkled, she wore no makeup, her old clothes were mismatched, and her hair clearly displayed that she’d been laying down in her bed all day. Though all of these “signs” of beauty from this woman were absent, it was her smile that caught my attention from across the room. She eagerly waved me over to her dinner table.
Her name is Shin-ae. She is a resident at the Dong-bu Nursing Home in Seoul, Korea. She is an 87 year old Korean woman who unlike many other elderly people, continues to shine. I met her on my first visit to the nursing home. She is one of 350 residents in the home.
Even before I walked in, I was impressed by the huge modern building I viewed from the street. When we walked in, we were asked to take off our shoes. We placed them in little lockers, to the left of the entryway. In return for our shoes, we were given slippers. This is a common custom, both in Korean homes and some restaurants.
After watching many of the Koreans I was with, I soon discovered in order to greet Shin-ae, I would need to bow deeply from my waist while saying the formal “hello” in Korean. In daily life, the bow to say hello is simply a dip of the neck. This was the first time I’d ever bowed from my waist. This bow shows deep respect, a respect of elders that is ingrained from an early age.
She opened her mouth to speak and even mouthed the words, but had not enough strength to make a sound. Knowing she could not speak, she decided smiling would suffice. For the three hours I was with her, I never once saw the smile fade from her wrinkly mouth. I tried to use my basic Korean to make small talk with her. She occasionally nodded or gestured. To her, presence was enough.
I was with a group of 20 other foreigners. We spread ourselves throughout the five floors of the home. At one point, when taking a stroll after dinner, we came upon a concert! The performers were a local bank’s volunteers, singing Korean hip hop music, karaoke style! Strange choice for a nursing home, but one of the old ladies enjoyed this strange karaoke so much that she refused to go to dinner until the concert was finished!
I was amazed at all of the visitors to this home. The number of volunteers that day (over 50) was impressive enough, but I was pleasantly surprised to see so many families visiting their parents/grandparents. The halls were sprinkled with moms, dads, brothers, sisters and babies. All seemed happy to spend a Saturday afternoon with their parent/grandparent. I have been to a few nursing homes in the USA, yet never has a nursing home seemed so joyful!
We were told by the staff, a little bit of the history of this nursing home. She said that years ago, only the elderly with no living family would be placed in the home. In Korea, there is a great sense of responsibility for the elderly. Traditionally, when the parent becomes too old to live alone, they move into the grown child’s house and are taken care of. These days because many families have two working parents, the grandparents are put in nursing homes.
As I sat there and smiled back at Shin-ae, her friend across the table offered me a bit of her dinner. Rice wrapped in seaweed did not sound the most appetizing, so I kindly declined. She would have none of it! She pushed the seaweed bundle into mouth, while commanding me to say “Ahhh.” I thought I had appeased her, but after unsuccessfully refusing seaweed bundle numbers two and three, she called me a crazy American, and chuckled to herself!
Shin-ae invited me to take a walk with her by motioning across the room. She lead me down a winding hallway, to a living room. There, I parked her wheelchair a few feet away from the couch where I sat. She wheeled herself closer to me and gently reached for my hand. There was nothing gentle about her grip on my increasingly numb hand! She had individual attention and she wasn’t going to let go! I don’t know how many visitors she gets regularly, but I can’t help but think how lonely she, and all the residents are.
After 20 minutes of watching Korean game shows with her, it was time for me to go. The same smile remained on her face, yet a hint of sadness glossed over her eyes. I bowed at the waist again and said goodbye. Though she probably had pain in her body, feelings of neglect and reason for grouchiness, she smiled instead.