Life minus the Sound

I discovered that the volunteers from the Pampanga Deaf Association were not easily distinguishable as deaf individuals. They looked just like any average person you might encounter on the street. I had somehow expected them to have some noticeable sign or indication of their deafness, like a large sign floating above their heads. It was only when they communicated with each other using sign language that one could recognize their deafness. Interestingly, it seemed that many deaf individuals are also unable to speak, which makes sense since hearing is necessary for learning to talk, right?

I started pondering how I would communicate with them. Should I carry around a notepad and have them read my written messages? Or should we resort to charades every time we wanted to converse? The answer became clear when I attempted to ask a question to one of the deaf volunteers. I was making all these exaggerated gestures like a fool until the deaf person stopped me and began typing on his cell phone. He showed me the message, "I know how to lip-read. Your sign language sucks." That meant I could curse them out all I wanted, and they wouldn't have a clue unless they saw my lips move. A deaf person and a ventriloquist could make quite an intriguing duo.

One remarkable fact about deaf individuals is that even though they can't hear, they can sense the beats of a song through vibrations. I tried to imagine experiencing the reverberations of a beat without actually hearing the song itself, and it just felt underwhelming to me. However, I realized they were quite fortunate that night. Local bands took the stage, and being close to the speakers, let's just say their music engulfed my head. Then, a customer from the booth next to ours didn't think the vocalist was doing a great job. They began singing "Laklak" on the karaoke machine. A battle of off-key singers erupted on the spot, and we found ourselves caught in the middle. My hearing faculties started to protest. I had to ask people to repeat themselves four times before I could comprehend their words. The deaf volunteers had it easier. They moved to and fro without being tormented by the voice of the frustrated opera singer beside us. Allow me to summarize it in this equation: dreadful voice + alcohol = hell on earth.