WAN CHIU-MING'S neighbours in a Wong Tai Sin public-housing estate knew him as a grumpy old man living on a tiny welfare cheque in an even tinier flat. They would never recognise the smiley gentleman who now plays chess and flies kites at a home for the elderly in Zhaoqing, a southwestern suburb of Guangzhou. Three months ago, while the 81-year-old was still living in Hong Kong, a pamphlet arrived under his door. It advertised a newly opened housing project for the elderly across the border. 'There was a telephone number on it,' Mr Wan said. 'I called, and someone asked me to give it a try.' On the morning of February 1, Mr Wan and four other elderly people travelled nearly five hours by hydrofoil and coach. When they finally reached their destination, they saw a home for the aged head and shoulders above anything they'd seen in Hong Kong. Financed by the Hong Kong Jockey Club and built by Helping Hand, an SAR-based welfare group specialising in services for the elderly, the $90 million Zhaoqing Home for the Elderly is the first of its kind - a mainland home backed by Hong Kong money, operated with Hong Kong expertise and taking in elderly Hong Kong people. The idea has great promise. After all, Hong Kong's population is greying; by 2015, one in six residents will be 65 or older. But the SAR has fewer than 50,000 bed spaces in homes for the aged, both public and private. Meanwhile, many private homes have a reputation for poor service and cramped quarters, and the government-subsidised ones have 28,000 people on their waiting lists, who face a wait of up to three years. But there are no such problems at the Zhaoqing home. Inside several two-storey buildings occupying 40,000 square metres, there are communal sitting rooms, exercise rooms, a clinic and a canteen - not to mention the 50 or so staff, including two resident doctors, a physiotherapist, eight nurses and eight trained care givers. Outside, there are gardens and ponds. Mr Wan, a former construction worker who has no children, stayed in the new home for a month. Then he came back to Hong Kong, but not for long. He had made up his mind to move to Zhaoqing for good. 'I love the tranquility there,' he said. 'Hong Kong is too noisy, and the air pollution is getting worse.' On April 10, the moment he stepped off the hydrofoil, a driver from the home was there to greet him. 'Hi, Uncle Wan,' the driver said. 'Long time, no see. I see you've put on a few pounds.' With a broad grin, Mr Wan jumped into the front seat and asked the driver to drive him to his 'new home' - fast. Leung Chi-keung, the home's superintendent, said he thought Mr Wan looked a different man in Zhaoqing than in Hong Kong. 'I think there is a huge difference in his behaviour,' he said. 'Here, he is such an outspoken man and loves to show off his knowledge and skills. But he is not willing to talk much about his life in Hong Kong, and that makes me think he did not have a very happy life there.' There are good reasons for the difference. Mr Wan supports himself on a monthly welfare cheque of about $2,500. 'How can you live a high-quality life on such a small sum in Hong Kong? It's just impossible,' Mr Leung said. 'But here in Zhaoqing, with that money, Uncle Wan can rent a double room and even keep $500 in pocket money - and that's plenty here.' The monthly fee for residents of the Zhaoqing home ranges from $1,800 to $5,200. A Helping Hand spokesman said this was a bargain compared with the $5,000 to $10,000 charged by private homes for the elderly in Hong Kong and the more than $10,000 monthly cost to taxpayers for beds in government-subsidised homes. The brand-new facility can house 308 people, but so far, only 11 elderly people are living there. Mr Wan is one, and Zhu Lipu is another. The 75-year-old Mr Zhu was a war correspondent in India during World War II. In the 1950s, he came to Hong Kong, where he was a bus driver and construction worker before working in the garment industry, which allowed him to travel to Africa, Vietnam and many mainland provinces. After years of travelling, Mr Zhu chose the Zhaoqing Home for the Elderly as his ultimate residence. 'Once I came here, I decided to live here until the final day of my life,' he said. 'I won't move out unless the place is closed.' Mr Zhu moved into the home with his two computers and library of books in March, after listening to a radio programme about the elderly-home project. He left his old flat on Cheung Chau, where he had lived alone. He has adapted quickly to his new residence. 'I don't have to do the cooking, the laundry,' Mr Zhu said, adding that this gave him time to finish compiling a collection of 100 traditional Chinese myths for children. 'But what I find troublesome is that the nurses keep telling me not to do this or that, and they're always making me eat fruit,' said Mr Zhu, hamming it up for the nurse sitting next to him. She smiled and said: 'All those things are for your own good.' Mr Zhu and some of the other residents carried on 'complaining' about their lifestyle in retirement. For example, every elderly person in the home is followed by a nurse when walking around, and a care giver looks after the residents when they play mahjong. Then it was time for lunch. The giant canteen can hold up to 400 diners, but on this day, only 11 elderly people and about 10 staff were having lunch. Colman Wong Ping-choi, the deputy director of Helping Hand, acknowledged the home's intake rate was well below expectations. 'We worry, but we don't panic,' he said. Many potential residents hesitated about moving to the home, he said, because of the relatively high health-care costs and relatively poor medical standards on the mainland. Mr Wong said Helping Hand was holding talks with the SAR's Health and Welfare Bureau about subsidising medical fees on the mainland for the home's residents. 'As a welfare recipient in Hong Kong, you don't have to pay for care by public doctors,' he said. 'So even though medical fees are generally cheaper on the mainland than in Hong Kong, they are still a burden for an elderly person receiving welfare.' Meanwhile, the home has forged links with a government hospital in Zhaoqing. The hospital, 30 minutes away, offers treatment for most diseases commonly found among elderly people, such as heart and lung conditions. But even with all these carefully laid plans, the Zhaoqing home and others that might be built across the border for Hong Kong people still face obstacles. For example, Fernando Cheung Chiu-hung, a lecturer in the Department of Applied Social Sciences at Hong Kong Polytechnic University, said most old people disliked relocating. 'There are even studies showing their lifespans decrease after a move,' he said. He agreed the Zhaoqing home was attractive but said other things were more important to elderly people. 'What they value most is their friends and relatives,' Dr Cheung said. 'Even an old person who moves to an elderly home in Hong Kong will feel isolated. 'The idea of sending our elderly to the mainland is a kind of segregation. If a society can afford to take care of its vulnerable members, including its old people, then there is no reason to send them away. We should integrate instead of segregate.' But he said that in the long term, building homes across the border for Hong Kong's elderly might become less segregationist as links grew closer. Ng Wai-tung, a social worker with the Society for Community Organisation, said some elderly people might be happier living over the border, particularly those who have family there. 'If they could live in a mainland elderly home close to their relatives and friends, it would be perfect,' he said. 'That would give them a sense of security they cannot enjoy in Hong Kong, and they wouldn't have to worry whether anyone will sweep their graves after they pass away.' Martin Wong is a writer for the Post's news desk
