MANILA, Philippines - One of my earliest, and fondest memories, were those of shopping with my grandmother.
My grandmother loved to shop. We used to joke about her being bilmoko, but I don’t think it was the thrill of spending money that made her want to shop. On the contrary, she was thrifty. She bought only what she needed and taught me the value of sensible shopping. It was the energy of the marketplace that she loved. How to find the items you needed, for the best price, within the least amount of time. “After all” she would say “What use is a bargain if you spend half a day just shopping, then the rest of it on travel.” So when SM North — one of the first true shopping malls in the country — opened, she was eager to take a look. And boy, did she love it.
Before SM, there were strip malls, department stores and the talipapas. If you wanted to buy something you couldn’t get from the palengke, you had to go to the department store. If it still wasn’t there, you were off to an adventure to the various strip malls that dominated the shopping district. It was simply too long a process. So SM North to her was just brilliant: you had a department store whose name you were already familiar with, but also other shops that sold their own brands. Not only that, but it had a grocery store, movie theaters and a foodcourt for fussy (and always hungry) four-year olds.
I was 17 when my grandmother started getting “fuzzy.” She started forgetting things: names, dates, even what she did half an hour ago. At first we thought it was just old age, but once she came home from the mall with five bags of oatmeal and ten cans of milk, but with no knowledge of ever purchasing them. A few days later, the doctor confirmed what we all suspected: Alzheimers.
All of a sudden, my smart and witty grandmother, who could add an arms length of groceries in her head, couldn’t remember if she’d been to the grocery store, five minutes after she’d left it. She’d wonder if she’d read the paper, even while it was still in her hand. It was life changing, because all of a sudden, my grandmother went from able to disabled.
She could still walk, and talk. Physically, she was as strong as a 40-year old; but mentally, she was a lot like a four-year old. There were days that she’d throw a tantrum, and the only thing that would calm her was to shop. So we did what she used to do for us grandchildren when we started getting fussy: we took her to the mall.
Going to the mall with someone mentally disabled is an adventure in itself. I should know, because a younger cousin was diagnosed with developmental problems right around the time my grandmother had Alzheimers. He was two then. He’s 16 now, but will forever be six years old.
Recently, I helped a friend with her shopping at SM Fairview. She had just sprained her ankle playing volleyball, and was hobbling around in crutches. We parked in handicapped parking, then rode the elevator up to the top level to see a movie, where the attendant made sure we found a seat. Later on, we went grocery shopping. Even when she obviously had someone there to help, a customer representative still helped us to the handicapped lane and later to load our bags in the car.
On the way home, she told me how she used the side-bars in the handicapped restroom. “You know, I never thought I’d go in there and actually need it.” But SM thought about it, and it was when she needed it. I think she felt guilty about all the times she used the handicapped stall because she didn’t want to stand in line.
When SM started putting wheelchair ramps and special access phone booths, I thought “Good for them!.” Them. Now I think of my grandmother, my cousin, and even my friend and I think “Good for us.”
Disability is no longer about them and us. No one ever thinks they’ll have a child born blind, or have an accident that leaves them disabled. But it happens. Likewise, no one ever thinks that one day, old age will saddle them with a disability. Our visions get blurry, memories fuzzy, and one day we might need to get around in a wheelchair.
But what I learned from SM is that disabilities may change our lives, but it doesn’t have to shape our lives and it takes all of us to make a difference.
SM has show the way and are teaching people how to make a difference in the lives of persons with disabilities.