Frankfurt

 Behind the deep furrows on Katharina’s face one can read the 83-year old story of a European beauty with (once) black hair. All of these wrinkles have not turned her into an old lady sitting alone within her own four walls. In her elegant apparel, a fur coat and pearl jewellery she appears like a statue in a museum. But her eyes are glowing. Katharina is one of 13.4 million Germans over 65 years old.

You encounter older people everywhere in Frankfurt. In every restaurant, park, department store, theatre, and cinema and on the street you find people over the age of 50. It’s different in Beirut. There, the streetscape is dominated by young people or people with jobs. German seniors needn’t worry about making a living or putting food on the table. By contrast, in Lebanon a teacher works in his profession for about 40 years and afterwards his pension is not enough to pay for food, drink and clothing.

Another difference is that older people in Germany prefer to stay in their own homes than to move to a nursing home or live with their children. “Why should I bother my daughter and her family and interfere in their private lives? They have their lives and I have mine and I don’t want to give up my flat,” says 90-year old Rudi. Forty percent of old people live alone. Wolfgang Jeschke, director of the August-Stunz-Zentrum nursing home on Röderbergweg, bases this on the fact that old people in Germany are ensured a basic income from the state.

Nationwide there are 10,900 homes for the age, in which approximately 670,000 people live. These homes, explains Jeschke, “offer their residents excellent service as if they were at home.” The August-Stunz-Zentrum is like a luxury hotel. The corridors are hung with paintings by artists and pictures painted by the residents in their own studio. The studio is managed by an artist. The home also offers its residents readings, poetry recitations, concerts, theatre performances and excursions. The programme is drawn up on a monthly basis and includes religious, cultural and athletic activities.

An elderly care nurse must complete vocational training to work with old people. Yet, Germans do not like to work in elderly nursing. Why not? “Policymakers cut funds provided for elderly nursing so that the vocation attracts fewer and fewer people,” explains home director Jeschke. Nurses from more than 20 countries, such as former Yugoslavia and Eastern Europe, work at the August-Stunz home.

Lydia is one of many Polish women who have left their homeland to care for old or disabled people in Germany. The 50-year old woman lives for six weeks in Preungesheim in the house of 90-year old Mrs Kriecher, who suffers from Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s disease and paralysis. She takes care of the household, nurses and cooks for Mrs Kriecher. After six weeks another Polish woman takes her place. “Nursing jobs are very strenuous both psychologically and physically,” Lydia tells me. Many Germans find the work too hard and not well paid. “So they leave it to us.”

A major problem for the people in the nursing homes is loneliness. Richard Witzer, a resident of the August-Stunz-Zentrum, reports: “When a wife dies, her husband dies emotionally, too.” Behind the lenses of his spectacles his small eyes appear absent while he gazes at the people around him. His words and his slightly quivering voice sound as if he has not spoken to anyone in a while. For ten minutes he tells me about his hatred of war and conflict. Now, the 94-year old is overwhelmed by loneliness.

The suicide rate among home residents peaks between 1 December and 10 January. The nursing homes attempt to countervail this with various activities.

In Lebanon old people are surrounded by their children, grandchildren, friends, neighbours and relatives. If only the Germans would recognize the benefits of these structures, they too could better counteract the problem of loneliness and suicide.