My good friend, Rachel Knopf, gave me “the unheard: a memoir of deafness and africa” (words in the title uncapitalized in respect to how it was printed on the cover of the book) by Josh Swiller for a birthday present a few weeks ago. When I pulled the book out of the gift bag, I knew immediately what it was. The book was about a man, born deaf but raised orally, who went to Africa (Zambia) with the Peace Corps in the 1990′s. Rachel, who had visited me in Kenya when I was there for my Peace Corps service from 2002 to 2004, thought I would find it interesting. After all, we were both deaf and we both went to Africa as Peace Corps Volunteers! I had picked up the book precisely for this reason but didn’t buy it.
I don’t know why I resisted it at first. I had read Josh’s blogs and liked his style of writing. But to read his book… I held it off for a while, saying it’d be my treat for winter break, reading a non-school-related-book at last! But I think there was something else holding me back. The book’s gonna be about a guy who couldn’t accept he was deaf and through the Africans who are beset by poverty, disease, and everything-bad-you-can-ever-imagine found he was really lucky anyway to have received a good American education and blah blah blah. I wasn’t in the mood for a predictable tale where the complaining schmuck realizes how lucky he really is.
But, yesterday, Josh came to Gallaudet to give a presentation and meet all the bigwigs at Gallaudet. Watching him share stories with the audience, I found myself nodding spiritedly. I know it was quite spirited because Josh noticed me in the audience. “Were you in the Peace Corps?” “Yes,” I replied, feeling my face turn red. “Where?” he asks good-naturedly. “Kenya” I reply meekly. He nods and continues sharing his tales and includes me every now and then. “Julie, was this the same for you?” I’d nod and smile.
It wasn’t completely true. Josh was telling stories about a violent village where there was mob justice (they dragged a man for miles on Christmas day), where a third of the children under five died everyday during the rain season, where he lived in a mud hut with no running water or electricity. That wasn’t my Peace Corps experience. I lived on a school compound in a house with electricity and running water (although the electricity wasn’t very consistent and the water didn’t really run, it dripped), I didn’t see children dying (I only saw how deaf children were cruelly treated), I didn’t see the locals dragging bodies (I heard stories though about putting car tires on people and setting them on fire for theft).
But there was an element of familiarity in Josh’s words. That’s why I was such a spirited nodder. So last night, I went home and started to read his book. “Just one chapter!” I told myself, “Then you have to finish your Optimality Theory reading!” I agreed and turned the first page. I didn’t stop until page 265, the last page. I kept on reading despite the nagging voice in my head. “Read your Optimality Theory! Read your Optimality Theory!” Optimality Schmoptimality! It couldn’t compare to Josh’s book. To his story which pulled me in and forced me to walk aside him. To meet the people he met. To feel the anger, confusion, solitude, happiness, and peace (sometimes all in the course of a day and for me mere minutes) he felt. To see a world he saw.
When I finished the last page, I got that feeling you only get from reading really good books. A feeling of peace. A feeling of sadness at having finished it already. A feeling of understanding. It gave me words, metaphors, stories that helped me understand my own experiences. And showed me much more. “the unheard” wasn’t just about being deaf or being in Africa, it was about being human. That was what the familiarity was. Josh’s Peace Corps experience wasn’t exactly my experience. Josh’s experience with deafness wasn’t exactly my experience. But it didn’t matter. Josh knew how to beautifully capture what it’s like to be alive in this world. And that is why it’s a great book.
(NB: There is little mention of the plot of the book because (subtext) you should go out and get it for yourself!)