How many sounds do you hear in a day? Slamming doors, ringing telephone, cries from an unhappy baby. The cheerful chatter of your children. Questions from an employee or instructions from a boss. Tender words from someone who loves you. Music that lifts your spirits on a dreary day.
Their world is silent. They do not hear the loving words of a mother, the strong voice of a father, the joyful shouts of their friends. The cacophony of the market, the rumble of traffic, the bulla (boo-ya) of a large, loud family are only silence.
They climb eagerly into the van, faces shining from their morning scrubbing. Eager chatter is replaced by eye contact and motions made with their hands. We sign “good morning” to each other, then they settle in the van for the quiet ride to school. As more of their friends are picked up, I catch glimpses of them in the mirror, hands flying, as they chat.
When we arrive, they pile out of the van, eager to greet their teachers. The usual chatter of a group of children right before school is exchanged for smiles, eye contact and signs. They are eager to learn, eager to help, eager to contribute.
In El Salvador, deafness is often considered synonymous with low-intelligence. As a result, deaf children are a shame to their parents, expected to contribute little. Their silent world imprisons them, and as a result, they can seem “simple” not because they have a low IQ but because they have never learned the things that hearing children learn.
As for our students, it doesn’t take long to see that their handicap is in their ears, not their brains. When I forget to pick up his friend, Jairo (Hy-do) emphatically reminds me. And when we pull up to his house and no one is there, he tells me to go knock on the door. Sadly, 12 year old Joel (Ho-el) does not come, his mother tells us he has a job at a car wash and would rather work then come to school. When we stop at the car wash and attempt to talk to him, he shrugs his shoulders and points to his boss as if to say, “I’m his now”.
When I am about to make a wrong turn onto a busy street, Paula is paying attention and shakes her head and points the other direction. When I bring Amy along a few times to take the students home, Paula brings a book with lots of pictures and patiently teaches Amy some signs.
Anna, a former student, shows up at church on Sunday. We invite her home for lunch and she readily accepts. Her and Mel talk the whole way home, their hands flying. Anna tells us that she was curious about the new directors at CICS,(us) so she bussed from her home in Apopa to attend church this morning. Her weeks are busy, she works at a sewing factory from 7 – 7 during the week and cares for her ailing mother on the weekends.
After only 2 weeks of school, the question of what are we doing here in El Salvador has become clear. We are here to break down that prison of silence that surrounds each deaf child and make it possible for them to communicate. With signs, they can have meaningful conversations with other deaf people or anyone who knows sign language. If they learn to write, they can communicate accurately if slowly with almost anyone. As they learn to read, an entire world opens up through books and stories.
How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher?
Romans 10:14
And in the case of the deaf, perhaps we could add, And how shall they hear unless they are taught?
Learning From Adventures 