Further to my other blogs on the subject: the recent developments since those blogs are confirmation that I have indeed and definitely moved into the “old” category.
Bus drivers will lower the bus for me so that there isn’t such a big gap for me when stepping onto the bus.
People will leap up from their seats on the bus or Tube the moment I board, without my even making eye contact. (I actually try to avoid eye contact so that they don’t think I’m trying to guilt-trip them into offering me a seat.)
Another time, an old lady on the bus, who looked obviously older than I, asked me to take my time when I was about to get up to disembark.
Yesterday, I was waiting for a bus, minding my own business, looking out for any approaching buses, when a young woman (20s?) on the bus stop bench waved her hand in my line of vision to attract my attention to ask if I’d like to sit down — I thanked her and said no.
When I got on the bus that came a few minutes later, I moved all the way in, to the back of the bus, as it was quite crowded. Even with my back turned to her, another young lady could tell I was seat-offering material: she tapped me on the upper arm to get me to turn round to see the aisle seat she’d vacated for me (she moved into the window seat).
Westerners, especially the female contingent, seem to be quite sensitive about the issue of age, calling it “rude” to refer to age, refusing to let people (some even their own son[s]) know their age, etc.
I often tell my students, to whom I teach Chinese cultural practices as well as the language, that age in the Chinese culture is a positive thing: one gets the respect that comes with age.
My experience here since I got to 60 and beyond proves that, although a lot of children (and their parents) do not exercise the same consideration, this spirit is generally alive here in London.
(London, 2013 onwards)
See also:
https://piccola-chinita.blogspot.com/2021/02/you-know-youre-getting-old-when-03.html
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