Around Day 5 of the walk, I lost a few things.

This beautiful crystal, that my friend Amanda gave me, decided it wanted it wanted to stay at Camp Butano. Okay, crystals have a way of doing that. Jumping ship, going on a walk about of their own, whatever you want to call it. I’ve experienced it before and expect to again. Crystal gone. Shoots. I liked it. But it wasn’t mine to keep. Just “mine” to enjoy for however long it chose me.

1. Crystal gone

Number two. My earring. Now these I had bought for $5 from my friend, Lani, when she had a garage sale; she’s moved to Oahu to be closer to her daughters. Okay. That too I liked. That it was only $5 helps. But still, I really liked it. But it too decided to stay at Camp Butano. Okay. I can live with that. It’s just an earring after all, and I still have one left.

2. Earring gone. One left.

Number three. My voice.

It became clear to me, that I needed to leave my voice behind. If I spoke in a restaurant or while waiting in line for the bathroom, all eyes turned towards me. They no longer saw my deaf friends. And that wasn’t good. So I realized it was time to leave my voice behind.

This meant even when in town at a restaurant alone, I “played” deaf. My new friends might show up; they often did. I had to stay in character. Play my role.

What was this like? Playing deaf? Interesting. And at times a challenge. How to place an order? How to show which ice cream I wanted? Like when traveling in a foreign country where I don’t know the language, simple pointing and miming usually works. And writing things down or typing into my iPhone. But that’s because I speak English. I still had that commonality with the almost always friendly and helpful waiters or waitresses, or baristas. : ) Or even the little Spanish I know came in helpful yesterday when I wrote banos for bathroom.

But for many deaf Americans, this can be a struggle. English isn’t their first language. ASL is. And believe me, it’s different. That’s been part of the discussion while I’ve been with the group. Vocalizing (as a deaf person) or not. Creating a new written language based on ASL (or not). Many, many things have been discussed. What can deaf people offer to make the world a better place? (You can read sign when far apart. Babies can learn ASL starting at 9-months. Very helpful when they’re hungry, thirsty, or need a diaper change. : ). The list goes on and on.)

As a lover of language, I think it’s important for deaf people to also learn how to read and write English (or German for deaf Germans, etc.) Why limit yourself to just one language? (and I say this to ALL Americans : )

3. My voice.

And with that often came my ears. I tuned out sounds and focused on communicating with my new friends. This turned out to be rather funny on two occasions while walking. Both times, my new friends were yelling out trying to get everyone to stop and counting on me to hear their frantic shouts. I’d so trained my ears to “turn off” that these two poor ladies had to call out for several minutes before I “got it” that it was me they were crying out too. : ) Sorry Gina and Joette.

4. My ears.

The walk is coming to and end, and it will be interesting to see how it feels to go back into the “hearing” world. I’ve enjoyed the quiet. And the laughter. They all laugh a lot. Really so beautiful to hear. And I’ve gotten to know their laughs. Like Bob’s; he’s chuckling right now outside my tent.

Bu you know what? You don’t have to be deaf to not hear. Think of some of your friends or family who don’t really listen. Or yourself. It takes more than ears to HEAR. It takes an open heart, I think. How open is yours? Mine? There’s always room for improvement. Our capacity for learning and listening is endless.

And with that, I close my thoughts for the day. I love you all (even those of you I haven’t met yet : ) I know your capacity for love; it’s part of who we are. Each and every one of us.

Aloha,

-Sj out