Therapeutic Fun

The visit to Cheshire Ladies Old Age Home went far better than planned, in no small part due to enthusiastic participation of its residents. A trip that was supposed to last an hour or two was extended to almost six hours. Every single activity was received with a liveliness most children lack. Of course, we called it a participatory workshop, rather than therapy.

From ear to hand

After the preliminary introductions we dove straight into the first activity: listening to music and translating it into a painting. Once started the ladies were unstoppable, churning out several paintings in a matter of minutes. The glee derived from this simple task was alone sufficient to warrant the four hours of travel.

From ear to heart to tongue

Our next activity was the expression of emotion. We played short clips of music. The inmates then stated the emotion they associated with it and proceeded to portray the feeling through facial expression and sounds. Soon this evolved into a dramatic enactment of every imaginable sentiment; this soon evolved to a display of impersonations and funny faces.

The one, the all

The ladies of Cheshire spoke Kannada, Telugu, Tamil, English, Hindi or some combination thereof; a good portion of time was spent translating and most of it was a melee of words of varying origin. The outstanding exception to this trend was the group singing session. As the ladies sang in unison their backs noticeably straightened, their head an inch higher, their chins angled upward. Pride in community.

From ear to

The quiet listening session was the least appreciated part of the event, probably because sitting quietly and listening fills up far too much of the inmates’ days (speculation). The women of Cheshire seemed relieved when we were ready to move on to the next activity.

Dance, Baby, Dance

Not everyone joined us on the dance floor but everyone was involved. Clapping, hooting and cheering, I couldn’t believe these were the same old sheep I had spied from the front gate on my way in.

After hours of painting, singing and laughing and so much more, we finally had to leave. The grinning faces behind me broke my heart as I remembered the dull mugs I had first peered at. Promising to return, we left.