Dr. Khaled M. Batarfi
With a pleasant face and an eagerness to please, the cashier of the Indonesian restaurant was a Saudi gentleman in his late fifties or early sixties. It was unusual for a man of his age and charisma to be in such lowly position, so I assumed he was the owner. I was right. Still, why would he spend his days and nights on the cashier desk of a fast food restaurant when he could have hired a low-paid expat for the job, I wondered. He shined with his refreshing smile and asked me to sit and listen to his story.
Saleh was a high ranking security officer. During his heydays, he was always overwhelmed with work and people: colleagues, friends and visitors. He always longed for days of quiet and peace —retirement. The day his wish was granted, he was afraid the house would not be enough for visitors who would wish him luck and keep his company.
So he put over fifty chairs in the front yard of his villa that afternoon, and hired extra help to serve expected guests. Few showed up. The next day he put half the chairs, but no one came. The days after, the number of chairs went down till he only had a couple of chairs in the front of his house with a tea table.
“I realized I was going nut when one day I was criticizing my wife and daughters for changing the TV position to be in the corner of the room, when it should be in the middle where everyone can watch. They looked astonished, but not totally surprised, and politely reminded me it was I who put it there — many years ago. A that point, I decided to look for a job or a business — anything to keep me busy and sane.
"Now, I have this little restaurant, and I am the cashier at the entrance. That is the best position to have if you were to see or communicate with your customers. I have my little TV here, and I read my newspapers and drink my tea and coffee with some dates and oriental sweets. A few friends come by. When I go home at the end of my long working day, my family misses me — like in old days. It is a bit boring sometimes with the routine and lack of excitement, but tell me, what else a retiree in this country can do?”, he asked.
Sadly, when I went there the last time, the restaurant was sold, and Saleh was gone. I hope he is okay and surrounded with caring and interesting people.
When the receptionist, Abdullah Al-Zahrani, came closer to his retirement day, he pleaded with his superiors to let him stay. I remember him going from one office to another offering any compromise he thought of, including reducing his salary and benefits. I thought first he needed the job for financial reasons, but the Human Resources Manager explained to me that he would get the same salary he used to have, while staying home.
So I talked to him and he explained that he couldn’t possibly stop going to work every morning. He had been working most of his sixty years of life; his family would not appreciate his staying home day and night; and most of all: He couldn't accept being not useful. The other day, he was trying to fix the air-conditioner and failed. His teenager son came along and got it working in minutes. Actually, it wasn’t broken and he almost broke it. Then he failed again in fixing the door, and in helping with domestic work. Now, everyone was pleading with him to just call when he needed help.
Saleh and Abdullah never prepared themselves for the day after retirement, unlike my neighbors in Eugene, Oregon, during my graduate studies in USA. One bought a car-home and the other a river boat. Their calendars were so full to the extent that when they decided a farewell party for me and family, a date was found only many weeks later. I could see them everywhere: In school boards, neighborhood watch, charities, sport and social clubs, or just strolling in the parks. Now, this is a good life!
The question that bugs me is: What am I going to do when I retire? In the absence of most the above options, I may end up a cashier or a receptionist. It could be worse —a coach potato. I can’t stop wondering why can’t we have better options for retirees?
Is it us not being well organized? Is it the new age that celebrates the young, active and productive while discarding the used and weak seniors? Or is it the public and private institutions' lack of care and regard for retirees? What do you think, dear readers? Are we prepared for the day after?
