Posts
I'm the kind of person who wants to get things right if I'm going to bother doing them. Sometimes, it drives hubby crazy, because he justs wants to get the job done.
When I'm overwhelmed with the size of the job I'm envisioning because I've added so much to it in my mind in order to get it right that I've immobilized myself, I call him in to get the momentum started and then I put the quality control in place that I prefer. We've learned over the years how to work together so we complement each other rather than grate on each other (most of the time...). Happy Anniversary this week, my man!
So, it's been awhile since I've written on this blog. Partly because I wanted to get it right, partly because we've been travelling overseas and overland, and partly because we're just enjoying our family time and being all together again this Summer.
But since this blog is my personal blog, oriented towards my hearing journey and the updates on my cochlear implant, I figured I'd better say something, even if not perfectly written and researched, about how I'm doing with the implants in a different climate and with people of different languages. Maybe my insights may answer a question or help someone else along in their journey.
Living in a third world country is a daily challenge that demands alertness and forethought in order to survive. For example, you can't just go to the store and buy chicken breasts or ground beef; you have to buy the chicken, butcher it, pluck it and clean it out, before cooking with it. Or you go to the fly-infested meat market first thing in the morning and pick your chunk of meat hanging on a hook, and ask the butcher to do an initial de-tendoning to make it easier to slice, grind, or cube. Here in Bamako at my local meat market, guys with on-site grinders take a lot of the work out of preparing ground beef. Also house-helpers can do some of that work and running around, if you make your lists and menus ahead of time.
We have to wash and bleach our fruits and vegetables before eating them, including and especially lettuce leaves. We have to sift the bugs out of the flour, pick rocks out of the rice, and hope our gas bomb doesn't quit in the middle of our cooking. Oh, don't forget to keep the water filter flowing, because running out of drinking water in a hot, dry climate is potentially life-threatening.
Now, I add in the concerns of sensitive bionic implants and speech processors, where I have to re-charge my batteries at night when power surges and outtages are a fact of life. I must say, though, that my surge protector is doing a great job, and as long as I keep all my back-up batteries topped off, I would expect to last through a 3-4 day outtage without worry. I keep my processors in my Dry Aid storage kits at night to minimize humidity issues with the T-Mic microphones, and so far I've not had any problems. The manufacturers of my equipment have done a great job of building in protection against water and dirt damage. Thanks, Advanced Bionics, for giving me my life back.
My main challenge now is the problem with listening environments. Most buildings are brick and cement, with no carpet to dampen accoustical bounce or echoing, so sound goes everywhere and back before I "catch" it. I have to be close to the person speaking and have them face me so the sound is directed at me and so I can see their faces. We're working on finding some wall tapestries and drapes, and maybe a plant of two to help break the sound bounce in this house. But as we keep the windows open for air flow, the metal workers who grind, pound, and unload trucks just on the other side of our wall, are very loud at times and there's not much we can do about that.
I have to ask for repeats often when I'm trying to listen in French, partly because there are many varieties of French out here (those from Paris, those from Quebec, those from Francophone Africa, Chinese people speaking French, Brazilians speaking French, etc...), and then attempting what I can in Bambara, the trade language here, is intimidating. Add to that the noise of fans or swamp coolers, traffic, t.v.s or radios, and normal conversations as background noise, and I'm constantly sorting through layers of sound to pull out what I want to hear. It is certainly a blessed peace to go "off air" for a rest after lunch and at night.
Yesterday, my daughter and I did a little shopping downtown. Trying to fend off pushy vendors in stores with blaring music and no air flow became more than we could handle. After the second such store and some forthright rudeness on our part to get rid of hangers-on who "just wanted to help us" (right! I've had my purse stolen twice before, thanks), we found our ice cream and pastry shop with air conditioning and peace, and sat for an hour chatting. Here again, I struggled to understand her, but I was glad for the coolness and calm anyway.
The other day, I went to a large conference where I was escorted to the front seats as a V.I.P. While I didn't ask for the special treatment, that's how it is out here and you must receive it graciously. I found that it was another blessing as I could hear better situated in front of the speakers and I could see the action better, except for the photographers who sometimes blocked my view of the stage. So that was a surprisingly good experience.
Another of my challenges is talking to taxi drivers when 1) the windows are down or broken out so the wind blows in and the street noise is loud, 2) he's facing the front and I'm in back, 3) his car is rattling and the brakes squeal and shut me down momentarily, 4) many taxi drivers are Bambara-only speakers (back to the language problem). I found that if I negotiate the price before I get in so we're in agreement about where I'm going and how much it costs, then I don't have to "socialize" during the trip. If he tries to talk to me and I can't hear well, I just say I can't hear well and enjoy the trip. That's that. I hope he isn't offended or think I'm aloof, but in this culture, strange men and women aren't really supposed to interact anyways, although for foreigners, that's a little different. I say "Merci, or I-ni-chay" and go on my way when I arrive.
Most people are gracious and understanding if I explain why I'm struggling to understand them. I do prefer, sometimes, to let other people do the communicating. It helps to have hubby or one of my kids around to re-state something or interpret for me when I'm really stuck. I'm used to their voices, so that usually solves the problem. Every once in awhile, though, I just say, "tell me later", or "oh, well, I hope it doesn't really matter", and move on.
When I'm overwhelmed with the size of the job I'm envisioning because I've added so much to it in my mind in order to get it right that I've immobilized myself, I call him in to get the momentum started and then I put the quality control in place that I prefer. We've learned over the years how to work together so we complement each other rather than grate on each other (most of the time...). Happy Anniversary this week, my man!
So, it's been awhile since I've written on this blog. Partly because I wanted to get it right, partly because we've been travelling overseas and overland, and partly because we're just enjoying our family time and being all together again this Summer.
But since this blog is my personal blog, oriented towards my hearing journey and the updates on my cochlear implant, I figured I'd better say something, even if not perfectly written and researched, about how I'm doing with the implants in a different climate and with people of different languages. Maybe my insights may answer a question or help someone else along in their journey.
Living in a third world country is a daily challenge that demands alertness and forethought in order to survive. For example, you can't just go to the store and buy chicken breasts or ground beef; you have to buy the chicken, butcher it, pluck it and clean it out, before cooking with it. Or you go to the fly-infested meat market first thing in the morning and pick your chunk of meat hanging on a hook, and ask the butcher to do an initial de-tendoning to make it easier to slice, grind, or cube. Here in Bamako at my local meat market, guys with on-site grinders take a lot of the work out of preparing ground beef. Also house-helpers can do some of that work and running around, if you make your lists and menus ahead of time.
We have to wash and bleach our fruits and vegetables before eating them, including and especially lettuce leaves. We have to sift the bugs out of the flour, pick rocks out of the rice, and hope our gas bomb doesn't quit in the middle of our cooking. Oh, don't forget to keep the water filter flowing, because running out of drinking water in a hot, dry climate is potentially life-threatening.
Now, I add in the concerns of sensitive bionic implants and speech processors, where I have to re-charge my batteries at night when power surges and outtages are a fact of life. I must say, though, that my surge protector is doing a great job, and as long as I keep all my back-up batteries topped off, I would expect to last through a 3-4 day outtage without worry. I keep my processors in my Dry Aid storage kits at night to minimize humidity issues with the T-Mic microphones, and so far I've not had any problems. The manufacturers of my equipment have done a great job of building in protection against water and dirt damage. Thanks, Advanced Bionics, for giving me my life back.
My main challenge now is the problem with listening environments. Most buildings are brick and cement, with no carpet to dampen accoustical bounce or echoing, so sound goes everywhere and back before I "catch" it. I have to be close to the person speaking and have them face me so the sound is directed at me and so I can see their faces. We're working on finding some wall tapestries and drapes, and maybe a plant of two to help break the sound bounce in this house. But as we keep the windows open for air flow, the metal workers who grind, pound, and unload trucks just on the other side of our wall, are very loud at times and there's not much we can do about that.
I have to ask for repeats often when I'm trying to listen in French, partly because there are many varieties of French out here (those from Paris, those from Quebec, those from Francophone Africa, Chinese people speaking French, Brazilians speaking French, etc...), and then attempting what I can in Bambara, the trade language here, is intimidating. Add to that the noise of fans or swamp coolers, traffic, t.v.s or radios, and normal conversations as background noise, and I'm constantly sorting through layers of sound to pull out what I want to hear. It is certainly a blessed peace to go "off air" for a rest after lunch and at night.
Yesterday, my daughter and I did a little shopping downtown. Trying to fend off pushy vendors in stores with blaring music and no air flow became more than we could handle. After the second such store and some forthright rudeness on our part to get rid of hangers-on who "just wanted to help us" (right! I've had my purse stolen twice before, thanks), we found our ice cream and pastry shop with air conditioning and peace, and sat for an hour chatting. Here again, I struggled to understand her, but I was glad for the coolness and calm anyway.
The other day, I went to a large conference where I was escorted to the front seats as a V.I.P. While I didn't ask for the special treatment, that's how it is out here and you must receive it graciously. I found that it was another blessing as I could hear better situated in front of the speakers and I could see the action better, except for the photographers who sometimes blocked my view of the stage. So that was a surprisingly good experience.
Another of my challenges is talking to taxi drivers when 1) the windows are down or broken out so the wind blows in and the street noise is loud, 2) he's facing the front and I'm in back, 3) his car is rattling and the brakes squeal and shut me down momentarily, 4) many taxi drivers are Bambara-only speakers (back to the language problem). I found that if I negotiate the price before I get in so we're in agreement about where I'm going and how much it costs, then I don't have to "socialize" during the trip. If he tries to talk to me and I can't hear well, I just say I can't hear well and enjoy the trip. That's that. I hope he isn't offended or think I'm aloof, but in this culture, strange men and women aren't really supposed to interact anyways, although for foreigners, that's a little different. I say "Merci, or I-ni-chay" and go on my way when I arrive.
Most people are gracious and understanding if I explain why I'm struggling to understand them. I do prefer, sometimes, to let other people do the communicating. It helps to have hubby or one of my kids around to re-state something or interpret for me when I'm really stuck. I'm used to their voices, so that usually solves the problem. Every once in awhile, though, I just say, "tell me later", or "oh, well, I hope it doesn't really matter", and move on.
So, that's where I'm at in this journey so far. Grateful that I can "hear" again, but struggling with the quality that comes in. I'm functioning and doing as much as I can, and then passing off the duties that I can't to others. Answering phone calls, especially when they might be in another language with someone with little phone skills is not a success, but dealing with matters by email or on Skype is fine.
Having successes day by day and grateful for all my supporters and resources,
Lisa
