The room had an ersatz hominess to it. No matter how hard hotels try, their rooms never feel comfortable to introverts like me. But it beat wandering the streets of Boulder, Colorado alone. I’d tagged along on someone else’s work trip and they were in training. So, there I sat doing a little bit of reading, a little bit of writing.
Until house keeping showed up and I fled my fortress of solitude.
Yes, I know I could have put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door. But that’s not the point I’m trying to convey. The point is I hid in my room in an English speaking country. Traveling to a non-English speaking country is nearly beyond the pale for me.
I would love to stand on the banks of a flame-specked river during Toro Nagashi, amongst the tumble-down pillars of the Parthenon, on the uneven “steps” that make up the Giant’s Causeway. That last place is in Northern Ireland and I know, technically, they speak English. But I fear the challenge of understanding even thickly accented English.
And so I’ve not travelled abroad.
I’ve wanted to travel abroad but a host of reasons have ganged up on me to prevent me. As I just mentioned, the struggle to hear is foremost among that host. Following close on its heels is my introversion. Not too far behind is, y’know, not being able to afford it. But let me set aside that last one and take up the tale of the first two.
Doing extraverted activities always taxes me. The more I’m taxed, the more I struggle to hear. And travelling is very much an extroverted activity. This is one of those times when I can’t tease apart where the introversion ends and the deafness begins. I’ve a tendency to overthink things. Travelling involves a lot of things; the ride to the airport, all the airport “fun”, the airplane, the ride to the hotel after landing, and all of the activities I’ll be doing whenever I get where I’m going.
Each one throws new voices in my path. There’s always a period of adjustment as I learn the person’s voice. But when travelling, plenty of voices come and go before I can adjust.
Each one throws new background sounds in my path. I don’t know which ones I should be listening for. Was that sound normal? What about that one?
Each one throws me into a crowd. Crowds overwhelm me very quickly. Simply being surrounded by people is demanding for me. And they’re loud. There’s such a thing as too loud for a hard of hearing dude.
I need to get over myself.
I’m more confident that I’ll speak up for my hearing needs than I’ve ever been. Not to mention all the wonderful technology that will help bridge the language gap. There’s a certain irony to my concerns. In a country where you don’t speak the language, it doesn’t matter how well you hear. Not really. Communication takes on a staccato rhythm as technology, or rudimentary language knowledge, slows things down. Logically, I know this. But my hesitancy isn’t based on logic.
My hesitancy is based on not knowing what I don’t know.
As Julie is wont to say: I don’t know what I’m not hearing. At least in my home state I know how things are supposed to go. But all bets are off if I were in a foreign country. My introversion makes me uneasy when I’m placed in an unknown situation. My uneasiness makes it harder to hear. And the harder it is to hear, the quicker my introverted ways make me exhausted.
All that said, I will one day sally forth to a foreign country.
I wanted to give people an idea of what it’s like to be an hard of hearing introvert. I know there are more like me out there. This post is for you. We shouldn’t be hemmed in by a normally hearing extroverted world. But we’d be remiss to not acknowledge the challenges we face.
A home body goes
abroad to hear poorly there.
My future. I hope.
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