No City for Old Men

London is chaotic, fast-paced, full of cracks on the pavement. Not to mention the roller coaster-like experience of treading up and down its underground tunnels hurrying up towards the next train. Not the ideal environment, as you can see, for an elderly person. Last week, I beheld three sad episodes that proved my thinking right: London is no City for Old Men.

First one was an old man in the tube. Leaning on his staff, he was hobbling along struggling against the crowd of busy rushing people. Glued to the handrail he seemed a small boat tackling hundred-metre high waves in the eye of a seastorm. He seemed a bit lost, however relentless. He must have been a long-time citizen of this town, hence, used to the hustle and bustle of the underworld of its efficient public transport system. As my friend approached him to offer some help, he grumbled something indistinctly and climbed with difficulty the staircase. Slow-paced and stubborn, the old man showed his pride despite being in a situation that is at odds with the city's hectic lifestyle.

The second one was far less proud of being old in London. And again, it happened in the tube. The train came to a grinding halt and this old guy fell on his knees. He hung on the pole and swayed for a while like a washed out sock pegged on a line. A man standing close to the poor chap helped him out, but with so little energy that the old bloke stared beggingly at a young boy passing by, carelessly listening to some music on his i-pod, for some extra help. The extra help didn't come. In the end I jumped up and tried to help, since none of my tube-fellows seemed to be bothered by the scene. And the old man managed to get out of the hellish train towards unknown destination.

Finally, we get to the third and last episode: an old lady that fell on the pavement. I was walking to the cinema with a friend of mine, when we saw this elderly woman sitting down on the cold pavement. An old man stood close and a young guy was leaning over the lady offering some help. The woman was visibly shocked and so was her husband. She touched her head and her hands in pain. Like blinkered horses people passed by. Not even the most basic of first aid was put into force by those who saw the scene. The security man and the shop assistant of the store nearby seemed even more lost than the old couple. They had probably never heard of 999 or 112. At last, a woman arrived, leaned over the old lady and called an ambulance. We assisted the old woman for a while, until two policemen arrived. My friend and I served our elementary duty of helping a needy person when almost nobody else cared.

Frenzied, energetic and lively as it is, London sometimes lack the most warming of human needs: being helpful, being friendly, being unselfish.