Los Viejos

My friend and blogging buddy Jan wrote last month about the fate of thirteen elderly men living in a nursing home named El Cobijo (The Shelter) that was destroyed in nearby San Jose by hurricane Jimena. She went on to contact a number of people back in the States asking for funds to help these gentlemen, who were taken into an elderly ladies' home in Guaymas where they'll be allowed to stay four months, but they have nothing, as all their clothing and belongings were lost. The ladies' home is supported by the Catholic Church, and their families contribute as well, but the men are admitted at no charge and there are apparently some government funds for certain expenses.


Jan's little fund has been growing over the past few weeks, and yesterday she and another friend Kris and I took some pesos to buy warm clothes for them, and meat at the carneceria.


Prices for winter garments were not bad at Woolworth's, so we collected armloads of sudaderas (sweatshirts), playeras (long-sleeved T-shirts), pantalones (sweatpants), chaquetas de vellón (fleece jackets), calcetas (socks), camisetas (undershirts) and guantes (gloves), and, in three trips, lugged them to the counter. I was able to explain to the salesgirls in Spanish what we were up to, and they gathered around in curiosity, helping us carry the beanbag chair-size bags out to the street where Jan could bring her Jeep around to pick us up. Then it was off to the butcher's to buy some chickens, carne para cocer (literally, beef to boil or bake—inexpensive cuts that need a lot of cooking, I think) and carne molido (ground beef). We finished off our expedition at Soriana, where we got turkey sausage, turkey lunchmeat and cookies.


Mother Superior at the ladies' home opened the gate for us when we arrived and swarms of assistants helped us carry our load to the patio where most of the viejos were sitting. For us, it was a warm afternoon, but they were feeling the autumn chill, so right away we began separating out the sizes and distributing jackets, hats and warm shirts to them, introducing ourselves to each of them as we went. It felt like Christmas, only better. As each old man would try on his new hat or jacket, he'd give us a big grin and "gracias" and there'd be a round of applause.


A few of the ladies wandered over, and one of them began to sing in a surprisingly strong voice, right on key. When she got to the chorus I realized she was singing "Cielito Lindo" so I chimed in. A couple of other people joined the song as well. Afterward, a tiny old lady with legs that looked like broomsticks, bent over double in her wheelchair staring at her lap, oblivious to what was going on around her, started the song up again.


The men of El Cobijo have another three months to stay where they are, and then they must move to their own place. The head caregiver, Luz, tells us they don't want to move back to San Jose, preferring to stay in Guaymas, closer to medical care and families. So the trustees who administer the government support are meeting now to work out where they'll go. Part of Jan's fund will go to help make whatever shelter they find more livable. With the rest, we'll make regular weekly contributions of food and occasional treats. And we've just begun thinking about a Christmas party for them. I'm hoping there'll be lots of singing.


Ay, ay, ay, ay
Canta y no llores

Sing, and don't cry
Porque cantando se alegran

Because singing makes happy,
Cielito lindo, los corazones
Pretty beloved, the hearts