More thoughts of the Jamaican interior come to mind from my trip last week, this time of those with disabilities. There is a Jamaican in the deaf village who has a dog which got into a fight with another dog one evening. It was so loud, our team meeting was interrupted; we all ran to the window to watch this man try to separate the dogs—at one point swinging the two dogs around in a circle to get the one to release the other's ear.
Later we were together, and he was laughing and recounting the full story (in sign language) to a few people standing around who could understand. Interestingly, the normal roles were reversed. Usually, those with hearing loss would be insecure and out of the loop. Here I was, watching this hilarious story being told in a way that was unintelligible to my eyes. It gave me a sense for how they feel when they are out of their element.
But what was most interesting about this guy was that he was really cool. He had a sense of humor, he was a hard worker, he had bright eyes and strong arms, and he was completely at peace and confident with those around him. Too often I put the disabled in a box and automatically have pity on them. This guy didn’t need a bit of pity. Maybe I was the one who needed pity for feeling insecure and not being able to relax and just enjoy the smile on his face as he told his story with his hands.
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