Journey with the Blind
Have you ever wondered how the blind make their way from place to place? Do they fumble or is there confusion? Read on with CS KHAN and find out for yourself.
Invite you, the reader, to take a virtual trip with me to a shopping mall in Kuala Lumpur. This is the first time I am visiting this particular mall, however, this trip is similar to the many trips I took on my own, and so I am not too worried.
A sighted person uses visual landmarks to guide him, while a blind person like me has to travel in “darkness”. Therefore, even if my destination is within sight, it is still out of sight for me. I rely on other senses such as smell, hearing, touch and environmental as clues for landmarks.
We shall start the journey from my home. I always take my white cane with me on a trip. But since I know this area very well, I shall leave it inside my bag. The rough tarred road is easy to differentiate from the smooth driveways and soft grassy ground adjoining it.
A few houses down the road is a tree with fragrant flowers. When I smell the flowers, I put up one hand to shield my face and duck my head to avoid knocking into a low branch.
A strong, distinctive smell drifts my way. I stop abruptly.
It is one of the resident’s Alsatian dogs.
The dog growls menacingly near my ankle. I backtrack, cross the road to avoid it and continue my journey.
There is a house across the road that I like to pass by. The smell of delicious cooking pervades the air every morning. Today it was the aroma of freshly baked bread.
Suddenly, the sun is beaming at me. I realise I have left the shade provided by the houses. This tells me that the main road is about 100 meters ahead. This road joins the main road at right angles, forming a T-junction. I take out my cane to search for the kerb. Found it!
I stepped onto the tiled sidewalk and continued my journey. I will use the cane from now on to warn drivers I am blind. Sounds of traffic can be heard now. There is not much traffic on the main road. More vehicles come from the direction of the suburbs and less from the town.
I crossed the main road when vehicles stopped on my side of the road. Then, I stand on the road divider and listen carefully for the sound of any vehicle turning out of the side road. I grip my cane anxiously. This is the dangerous part of the crossing. I was nearly knocked down a few times along this stretch. There is no sound of any moving vehicles so I cross over to the opposite side.
After a 20- minute wait, a bus rumbles to a stop near me. I board the bus and tell the driver, “Putra LRT station. Can you please tell me when to get down?” He keeps quiet. The door shuts with a hiss. I sit next to a passenger and ask, “Can you please let me know when the LRT station is near?”
“Ya!” he answers and coughs. After a short ride, my companion says, “near station, lah!” He presses the buzzer for me. “Thank you,” I reply and unfold my white cane, ready to disembark.
Tough being outside
In the station, I buy a ticket and use my cane to search for the entrance. “Enter here!” said a voice. I follow the direction. There is a security guard here who always lets me know where to enter. When he is not on duty, his colleagues never offer such assistance.
After boarding the train, I settle down in my seat. The train rumbles and squeals its way to my destination. I prefer to travel by train because an announcement of each destination is made.
Upon reaching my destination, I followed the commuters out of the station. Having lived here as a teenager, I can still remember the main layout of the area. However, much has changed. All the houses along the main thoroughfare are gone and have been replaced by skyscrapers and multi- storey shops. An avenue of huge old trees has since disappeared and the street has been widened. With the old landmarks gone, doubts started creeping within me. “Can I find this new shopping mall?” I wondered.
I stop a passer-by for directions. She replies, “I am going there myself. Why don’t you follow me?”
The quiet, laid back town of my youth has transformed into a bustling, noisy business district. The roar of traffic is incessant- rumblings of buses, growls of trucks and the swooshing sound of cars passing by. There is throbbing music blaring from shops, sizzling and crackling sound of frying, clinking, clanking sound of glass, porcelain crockery and cooking utensils.
“We passed by a shop where the fragrance of coffee blew in our direction.
‘Mmmmm, lovely coffee!’ I remark. ‘That’s The Coffee Bean,’ my guide replies.”
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