Empowerment. Engagement. Authenticity.
Involving the Senses - Turning the Tables
A laugh bubbled in my throat as I envisioned what
we must look like - a trio of adults walking in single file, my hand on
Lazare's shoulder, Anne hanging on behind me for dear life.
"It's pitch dark in here!" she breathed, her panic threatening to make
me laugh even harder.
"Duh, it's called 'Dark Table'," I tossed back.
"Yeah, but I didn't think it would be this dark! How do blind people
deal with this every day?"
Here's the thing. Sighted people assume blind people see nothing, as in
total black. Truth is, that applies to only a small percentage of 'us.'
I myself see objects and people clearly if they are in my central field
of vision and rely heavily on lighting and contrast for orientation.
So it wasn't that the complete absence of light in the restaurant didn't
unnerve me. I just trusted that liability would keep the path clear and
the waiters well trained in escorting guests to their tables. And I knew
my white cane would compensate for any, well, oversights.
But poor Anne was in the deep end of a very unfamiliar pool.
"Take it easy," I said, aware that I didn't sound the least bit
sympathetic.
Rhythmic and deep as African drums, Lazare's voice urged us between what
I imagined were clusters of tables. "Careful, careful, careful." I
thought this chant was a bit much but it had Anne's death grip on my arm
relaxing. Lazare led us to a corner booth, or so I assumed by the
wood-paneled walls cocooning my back and left side, and proceeded to
describe our place settings.
"There're glasses of water on the table? Full glasses?" Anne's voice
took on the volume of a person talking into a cell phone on a busy
street. "Sorry, I guess I don't need to shout." I heard the jingle of
the bangles on her arm and knew she was tugging at one of her dangly
earrings. "It's just that...I can't see you. I can't see anything. It's
hard to concentrate."
I was tuned into the boisterous table somewhere in front of us. A couple
of guys had "accidentally" brushed their waitress' breast as she served
them.
"Sorry, sorry!" they spluttered in unrepentant unison. "It's just so
dark in here!"
I inhaled the sumptuous aroma of pasta in white wine cream sauce. "I'm
ready to concentrate on eating."
Involving the Senses
Sometimes, a character has an interesting
reaction to an unfamiliar setting.
