Can you imagine your life without your computer and the internet? Or being without your phone that texts, makes calls, take pictures, gets you on-line, plays games, and generally does more for your than your mother? Life has changed by leaps and bounds with the advent of the personal computer and pocket-sized technology.
One group of people who have probably been most postively affected by the advent of personal gadgetry is the Deaf. The world has opened up because communication is so much easier. There are different video internet connections now, like “Skype”, that allow signers to communicate visually with one other. It’s not perfect though, and some day technology will be able to keep up with the flying fingers of the skilled signer, but until then, even a slow and halted communication is better than none. Social utilities such as Facebook, have tied Deaf communities together with easy access to daily connectedness. Being able to post photos of community and personal events where “everyone” can see them is a huge thing to a visual culture.
All manner of electronic devices are made that can shake you awake, turn lights on and off
image by nuttakit
to indicate a caller at the door or let you know your baby’s crying. Personal telephones with texting offer a connectedness that previously was extremely limited by TTY‘s and live telephone translators. Now there are cell phones that even have video and Deaf can use these to sign to each other at will, stepping over the old boundaries that kept them dependant on the hearing world. However, not all of these are available to Deaf people world-wide. And of course, cost plays into their accessibility for everyone.
In Hungary most of the population, hearing and Deaf, run with cell phones and I must tell you, the cell phone service and coverage ROCKS that of North America… but that’s a whole ‘nother blog! But, now that I have you thinking about communication through the Deaf experience, let’s return to the last installment of “BLACKER THAN LIGHT”. This is Part III, if you are new to the blog, just scroll down two stories and start at Part I!
image by jscreations
There I was on the stoop of the apartment block in a residential apartment area of the city of Prague, Czech Republic.
Alone. At night. Without keys. Without any way to contact my friends in the apartment on the 5th floor.
In the timid light of the front entry I reviewed my options. I had a phone. I had access to the apartment buzzer system. I had a voice. I had an ear-splitting stadium-style whistle.
Whistling was out, although I could make it loud enough to be heard six blocks away. My friends were Deaf. And even if they weren’t, who pays attention to a whistle except for my family, whom I have trained to come running at the sound?
My voice was useless. In more ways than not being audible to my friends. You would think that being able to speak a little German, Hungarian, English and two sign languages that I would have a shot. But I was in Czech Republic. In the middle of a residential section, not the tourist area. People speak Czech in Czech Republic. I didn’t even know how to say hello or thank you very much! And it was the middle of the night… Well, 10 o’clock seemed like the middle of the night judging from the gaping blackness that engulfed this neighborhood.
The buzzer could be useful. Not of course, to call the flat where I was staying … but MAYBE someone would take pity on me and buzz me in.
Right. Who was I kidding? It was after 10 at night! They’d be more likely to call the police!
The phone. Had I really understood correctly from my colleague who had passed along the apartment keys, that she’d been given only ONE key to the outside door? I had an auto-dial answer to this question and a friendly face who lived 20 minutes away. The borrowed phone in my purse was my lifeline, but it was also my wild card.
image by chanpipat
Why hadn’t I gotten my Deaf friends’ phone numbers? Being techno-illiterate has it’s drawbacks. I hadn’t bothered with it because I would’ve had to learn another phone system. And it would mean roaming charges for them. Not worth it I’d surmised.
I held that thought and went to the buzzer and checked out all the names for something that sounded a little German or North American. Waking up some stranger to rescue me was not a pleasant thought, but what choice did I have? I’d been there for 15 minutes already, with no one going in or out.
Rehearsing a mini-speech in German, I rang the buzzer. I got a tired sounding woman who asked me in Czech what I wanted. In my best German, I tried to explain. Stress got the best of me when she retorted in angry Czech. I slipped into English, desperate to communicate my plight. She hung up.
Not wanting to do that again I considered the phone, waiting another 20 minutes to see if someone would come home or leave the building… no dice. Then I realized my colleague might just go to bed and I’d better call now. Believe me, there are no words to describe the relief of hearing someone you know, speaking a language you understand when you find yourself in a tricky situation.
I was right. There was only one key. But I could come stay with her… just jump on the metro and find them. But I couldn’t do that. My colleague had a cat at her house and I’m deadly allergic… I could only be there ten minutes before I’d react with hay-fever-like symptoms and then asthma. Besides, my Deaf friends would panic if I didn’t “come home”. I had no way of letting them know a change of plans. I pictured them fast asleep now and waking in the morning with me having not slept in the bed; they’d think I’d been mugged or worse! Putting them into a state of anxiety wasn’t a great option.
I would have to wait longer and see if anyone came or went… and worse-case-scenario my colleague would find me a dorm room at the school where her husband worked, and my friends would just have to have a jolt in the morning. What else could we do? I had been here for 45 minutes now and it was getting creepy thinking about spending the night on the cement entry. I agreed to wait a bit longer and call her back.
I had wandered from the stoop as I’d talked to my friend, finding freedom to step into the inky blackness of the surroundings as I communicated with someone who could understand me. I looked up at the darkened building, wondering who would be leaving now that it was getting close to 11 pm. To my delight and horror, a group of five people exited the building, but I wasn’t close enough to grab the door as they left. It swung shut with a thud.
Five languages and the only one that came out was english. I’m sure as this middle age woman dashed out of the darkness, mumbling words foreign to their ears, they might have thought they were being accosted by a crazy person. German tumbled out, together with the English, now that I had their attention. Make up your mind woman… what language are you speaking?
Luckily for me, there was a young twenty-something guy among them . He said “Who are you?” in the tone you can just imagine. But it was English. Praise the Lord!
I said in one breath, “I’m living in apartment 511 and I’m locked out. Please can you open the door or call your friends to buzz me in because my friends are in the apartment with the keys and they are Deaf and can’t hear the buzzer and I have no other way to contact them… please!” It wasn’t a pretty sight to see a grown woman begging in the middle of the night. But I had no shame.
Perhaps because it sounded so ludicrous it had to be true, perhaps because he didn’t know what else to do, he let me in.
image by Salvatore Vuono
And as I was entering the tiny lobby that was barely big enough to hold the scratched metal mailboxes, two ancient, wobbly elevators, and the shadowy stairwell… down the stairs bounded one of my friends with a key! They had just realized that I had no way to get in the front door!! All my saviours had converged at the same point in time.
I thanked the young man, who no doubt was relieved to be rid of the lunatic american… hugged my friend as we entered the tiny two person elevator and went up to the apartment. I called my colleague and told her I was in!
My Deaf friends were all most definitely awake and in party mode… in a lighted room not visible from where I had stood. Hugs were given, fingers flying with questions, apologies, explanations and relief. We laughed and visited and had a glass of wine and everyone told the story from their perspective. We had another glass of wine, moved on to other subjects and several hours later, said our goodnights.
The next evening I was to go to a different theatre and we revised our plans to ensure that I wouldn’t be sitting in the dark, wondering if I would be sleeping in the bushes. I’d like to tell you that it was a fool-proof plan and we had all learned from our mistakes. But, new mistakes were made which resulted in me sitting on the stoop for another 45 minutes that night, until someone twigged on that I was missing.
Was I upset? Mildly. I thought we’d aced our second plan. But someone “tweaked” it and it left me out in the cold. Again.
However, for me, to share in the community of the Deaf means to experience ALL aspects of Deafness and this is their reality without the aids of technology. Blacker than light? A new age has dawned in the realm of communication. But the old issues still exist. I know. Prague proved that unequivocably.
Photo credit to: FreeDigitalPhotos.net Thanks!
glossedsentences 