Alex Reiner
Entry 6 - 2/23
While skiing today in Pennsylvania I came to the bottom of a
slope and went to ski over to the lift when I noticed three older men all
wearing orange vests. When I looked back
to take a second look at them I noticed one man, older than the other two, was
holding on to the shoulder of one of the other men. I looked at the front of the vest of the man
clutching the other man's shoulder and his vest stated "BLIND
SKIER." It took me a second to
process what that meant - to be blind and to ski. Not being an expert skier I rely almost
entirely on my sense of sight to ensure I don't go careening off into the trees
or try to descend a slope above my expertise level. The idea of even blinking too long while trying
to ski down a slope was mind-boggling, but to queue in a line for the lift,
know when to board the lift, sit down and stand up in time with the lift's
rhythm, be aware of those around you, pick the right trail, and be able to make
it down the mountain in one piece is beyond my comprehension.
I let the three men go in front of me and through
observation, I slowly began to understand how they functioned as his eyes - one
as a physical guide, the other as an oral guide calling 'left' or 'right' while
the older blind man descended the slope.
While I didn't stop them to ask how he could ski without eye sight, it
became very apparent to me that the man's relationship to the world was defined
differently than mine. I relied entirely
on my sight to ski - observing visually the changes in the surface of the snow,
the turns of the path, trees that I'm nearing too quickly, even my awareness of
the people around me is dictated by my sight.
The blind man perceived his world different- relying on the feeling of
the snow, the sound of his companion's voice calling directional orders and,
when in doubt, the touch of his other companion. Skiing
must have provided the blind man some enjoyment, otherwise why subject himself
to the danger and challenge. Many
questions popped into my mind as I was riding the lift up the mountain, looking
around me and ahead of me, where the man and his two helpers sat in front of
me. Does he feel a sense of fear when
he descends the slopes? If not, how does
he avoid that fear (because I'm terrified and I have perfectly clear vision)?
If he does have fear, why does he continue to ski without his eyesight? Does his fear even come from not being able
to see? Maybe sight doesn't involve a
physical image being placed in your reality... maybe he can construct images in
his mind based on the cues around him, like touch and sound. If that is the case, is his reality anything
like those of people who are not blind?
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