We pay too little attention to the deaf. When we knowingly meet those who are, there's a tendency to raise our voice. If the person is wearing aids, that's a blast of sound made unbearable by the wearer. We are used to filtering out "background" noise when in conversation, but the hearing aid wearer can't make that distinction. All sounds wash over them at nearly equal strength. When they seem to fail to comprehend our meaning, we raise our voice again, compounding the problem. Little wonder they surreptitiously turn off the aid and withdraw. You have failed to understand the situation.
All this is the case in the developed world where technology is available to help the disadvantaged. Transfer the conditions to a small village in Zambia, Africa, where hearing aids, even electricity, are unknown. Josh Swiller, who was profoundly deaf by the age of four, made that transfer. He became a Peace Corps volunteer in Mununga, where a tiny village had burgeoned into a dispersed town of fifty thousand. Although sent to induce the villagers to dig wells for fresh water, local politicians blocked him. Turning to health care and teaching deaf children, he tried to immerse himself in the local society. The deaf, especially children, are ignored by the people as being essentially useless.
Settled in, he is given a housemaid, and a young boy attaches himself to Josh. But it's Jere, a health worker from another tribe who becomes his real contact. Working together in the local "clinic", they become fast friends. Josh struggles to learn the language and to become part of the local community. Advised by Peace Corps "Administration" that his best role is in "cultural exchange", a swimsuit copy of "Sports Illustrated" becomes the channel for communication. At least with the men. The surrounding forest is nearly denuded of wildlife, but there are bananas. Banana wine becomes a lubricant to communication when beer is unavailable or too dear. The locals, expecting much from a white man from the US are perplexed over his hearing disability. They are uncertain of how to deal with him, but they think he should perform significant deeds. Josh struggles to gain understanding and to assume a respected role in the village. After all, he represents the world's greatest power. His background and ambition to address the needs of the village bring confrontations with local leaders. That isn't their way, as he quickly discovers.
He's a caring person, in a place where caring is virtually unknown. An accidental death leads to a ferocious lynch mob, and Josh witnesses the retribution. Serious injuries are inflicted for what seem minor crimes. AIDS is present, but those afflicted are, like the deaf children, ignored and scorned. Able workers are off at the copper mines and civil unrest in neighbouring Zaire brings hordes of immigrant refugees looking for work. But Josh cannot pay, nor will the village. One man, Boniface, seeks local power and uses Josh as a foil to help gain it. A confrontation is inevitable, and the book's opening and closing depict it graphically.
Swiller's concern for his neighbours in this remote place is vividly conveyed. He has numerous issues to cope with, and few resources but his personal drive to help them. The first rainy season with its hordes of disease-bearing mosquitoes is a soul-searing shock. Children under five are particularly vulnerable and he's forced to witness funeral fires that "dotted the night like traffic signals for ghosts". With a sterling command of language, he imparts his feelings with unforgettable prose. "Cultural exchange" fails to lead him into some form of "Neo-colonialism". He realises the impractical nature of that ideal, and realises the villagers have more to teach him than he can ever understand. His homeland has little to offer Mununga's people, and he dreads leaving them and himself unfulfilled. Although he's angry over his failures, he dearly loves the land and the people. [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]