Traveling Blind

The publisher of my books in Poland put me in touch with Hanna Pasterny, a young Polish Christian woman blind from birth, who is researching how to help people who are both blind and autistic.  I cannot imagine the sense of isolation someone with both disabilities must feel.

Hanna works as an assistant to the President of the European Parliament and has coauthored a book, Tandem on a Scottish Background, with a Scottish professor living with Asperger’s syndrome. The professor, Helen Halpern (pseudonym), is also a brilliant engineer/inventor of devices for the disabled and speaks 13 languages. The book recounts their journey through the Scottish countryside on a tandem bicycle and how they form a deep friendship despite differences in nationality, religion, temperament, and how they interpret the world through the lens of their disabilities. Unfortunately, the book is not yet available in English.

A grant from Joni Eareckson Tada’s organization helped make possible Hanna’s first trip to the U.S.  I had hoped to connect Hanna in Colorado with Temple Grandin—the remarkable autistic woman who was featured in the HBO movie Temple Grandin, earning actress Claire Danes both an Emmy and Golden Globe award—but they could not coordinate schedules.  (My wife says everyone should see that movie!)

On her trip to Hanna visited group homes, schools, disability programs, and family retreats.  Though not the focus of her trip, she later reflected on some of the barriers a visually impaired foreigner faces on visiting the US.  Her challenges began with the visa application, an online form which relies on mouse movements whereas blind people have to depend on the keyboard to move from one block to another.  The American embassy in Warsaw bans cell phones and electronic devices, though the blind use electronic notetakers and readers and need cell phones to contact their waiting guides.

If you’ve ever traveled overseas you know about the entry and customs forms handed out on airplanes just before landing.  Hanna got a flight attendant to help her with the form, only to learn on the ground that she had filled out the wrong form and needed a different one designated for foreigners.

“The multicultural nature of the USA is very positive,” she says before proceeding to describe what it’s like to be assigned an assistant for disabled travelers who has only a basic knowledge of English.  When I land in some U.S. airports, even I have a hard time understanding the heavily accented “Welcome to the United States” greeting and explanation of customs and passport procedures; to a non-native speaker the message must be unintelligible.  In addition, an autistic person may require a very quiet place to wait, preferably with no other people around—try to find one of those in a busy airport.

Transportation posed another problem for Hanna.  Many taxi drivers have poor English and limited knowledge of their city.  They can hardly rely on a blind, foreign passenger for directions.  When Hanna called to ask for a taxi driver who spoke English well she was told that such a request is discriminatory.  “I didn’t agree, explaining that I am a client, I pay, so I can have some expectations and special needs and I won’t pay for such an unsafe trip anymore.”  One taxi driver let her out in the middle of the street.  And how would a blind person know where and how to hail a cab with hand signals?

When it comes time to pay, U.S. currency is very confusing because, unlike most countries’ bills, they’re all the same size.  Unscrupulous taxi drivers routinely hit the “30% tip” option on the meter without even asking the sightless passenger.  And some taxi drivers won’t accept a blind person with her guide dog because in their religion a dog is considered unclean.

Hanna found some good things about the treatment of the disabled in the U.S.  Airports do, after all, provide companions for special-needs passengers, accompanying them to the door of the plane.  We have many group homes and support services for independent living.  American schools have a high ratio or staff in classes with disabled students.  And the U.S. offers many opportunities for the disabled to get a job or find meaningful volunteer work.

Like most foreign visitors, Hanna learned that the United States is not the Utopia she had anticipated, especially not for a disabled person.  Most of the barriers she faced, though, could be surmounted by a friendly person who saw her struggling and volunteered to help.

That, in the end, is the lesson I took away from Hanna’s report: to be more sensitive to the needs of the disabled and to foreign visitors.  Sometimes it takes a blind person to open our eyes.