StemCell Therapy

My casual skim along the handrail becomes a white-knuckle grip as the light slowly disappears behind me. Photograph: Megapress / Stockimo / Alamy Sto/Alamy Stock Photo

Heres a question for sighted readers: could you safely navigate a busy intersection one with cars, motorcycles and trams whooshing past from every direction without the use of your eyes?

Thats one of the questions the immersive exhibition Dialogue in the Dark poses its visitors and based on my rather enthusiastic charge into the path of an oncoming tram as soon as I heard a crossing signal somewhere in my general vicinity its safe to say my answer would be hell no.

That tram, mercifully, exists only in theory: as part of the impressive sound design of Dialogue in the Dark, which allows sighted attendees to experience a stroll around Melbourne accompanied by blind and low-vision guides, in total darkness. Blind, in other words.

Founded in Germany in 1988 by Dr Andreas Heinecke, the Dialogue in the Dark exhibits have toured 40 countries and serve a dual purpose: providing employment opportunities for blind and low-vision people (it has employed up to 10,000 blind guides and facilitators in its 25 years), and allowing sighted people the chance to better appreciate life without vision.

Guide Dogs Australia has brought Dialogue in the Dark to our shores, with the Melbourne experience opening in Docklands Harbour Town this month, where it employs 22 blind and low-vision people and where it hopes it will remain open for at least five years.

After a short introduction that warms up my ability to identify things based on smell (jars of samples, hidden inside tissue paper), sound (tubes filled with sound-making materials) and touch (boxes full of different objects), I am equipped with a cane and sent into the exhibit. My casual skim along the handrail becomes a white-knuckle grip as the light slowly disappears behind me.

One of the parlour games of privilege is to try to imagine what life would be like if, say, you woke up tomorrow and could no longer see. You might close your eyes and think, Hey, no big deal! Ive been in a darkroom at high school! That blustering confidence dissolves immediately upon entering the Dialogue in the Dark exhibition space: this is total, complete darkness.

My guide instructs me to move towards his voice and Im suddenly struck by my relative inability to orient myself based solely on sound: is he right in front of me? Somewhere nearby? A foot to my right? After my first and last experience of ploughing straight into his shoulder, we move off for a stroll around Birrarung Marr.

The particular masterstroke of this Dialogue in the Dark iteration is its grounding in familiar Melbourne spaces. The exhibit is designed in different zones, where tactile and sound design create a remarkably realistic experience; while I know intellectually that Im not actually riding a tram, everything my body experiences suggests otherwise.

The sounds (birds calling, distant traffic, the Yarra river) and feelings (grass, trees and a cool breeze) of Birrarung Marr are a comforting introduction to the experience. Comforting enough, it turns out, that I charge ahead only to find myself confused by the sensation of wobbling, seemingly in mid-air; it takes a moment to realise I am, in fact, on a suspension bridge.

These humbling moments continue throughout the hour-long experience, but Im soon delighted to find my other senses coming to the party. At an approximation of the Victoria Market, I feel a heavy, rough piece of produce and though my mind initially searches for the image of a pineapple since Ive seen one instead I try to remember what a pineapple feels like. Similarly, my instinct upon picking up what feels like a coconut is to say, Theres only one way to find out and shake it near my ear; there it is, the familiar slosh of coconut milk.

My guide explains that this is, of course, a heightened experience designed to encourage our senses to come to the fore; in real life, blind and low-vision people dont tend to go around manhandling the fruit and veg to tell the difference between an ear of corn and a coconut. Online shopping and smartphone apps have revolutionised the shopping experience.

If I quickly become adept at feeling my way through life, the bewildering cacophony of Melbournes central business district reduces my ability to orient myself to wandering meekly in circles and the prospect of a tram ride along the familiar Swanston Street corridor finds me praying for a low-floor tram and accessible stop to alight at. As a cobblestone street sends me tumbling into a wall, I realise Im using my cane as a last resort rather than as an extension of my arm. I can only imagine my expression when faced with what turned out to be an ATM, and the only Braille letter I can recognise is A.

Our journey ends in a typical apartment, where the real dialogue begins.

My guide and I chat about job prospects, the general publics level of empathy towards blind and low-vision issues, and whether Melbournes accessibility features make it, well, accessible (short answer: its OK). Having helped people on and off public transport, I make sure my understanding of how to provide guiding assistance is up to scratch (offer an elbow, dont grab hands, and dont be embarrassed to offer assistance; the worst youll get is a confident No thanks!). Too soon, its time to return to the overwhelming light of day.

The Dialogue in the Dark experience could be a game-changer for those attendees who see being blind as a tragedy, or who arent aware of the employment prospects for blind and low-vision people. The inclusion of entrance and exit surveys suggests the operators expect peoples feelings to change throughout their journey; ideally, they leave with a greater understanding that blindness is no barrier to a rich engagement with life. As the official word goes, a level of vision loss is not a disability, its just different.

But the true genius of Dialogue in the Dark is how it demonstrates that its not necessarily individual disability that makes life difficult for those who are differently abled, but the way our world is actively designed against them at every turn. If Dialogue in the Dark encourages just a handful of young people to enter town planning or study accessible or universal design, it will be a roaring success.

(Oh and while Ive got you, reader: dont pat that Guide Dog!)

Dialogue in the Dark takes place in Docklands, Melbourne. Book your session here

More here:
'A game-changer': The hour of blindness in Melbourne that could open your eyes - The Guardian

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