Posted by: Lotus Light | May 29, 2010

Stories from a Strange Land

This time it is not my story, but one of many I have collected from this strange and wonderful land.

I met a man who could sign his name.

Of medium build, all muscle and whipcord covered with cafe au lait skin. 
A gentle face, dark eyes and hair.  He is a nomad, son of nomads, used to
working in the grasslands and mountains with the yaks, sheep and horses. 
He can ride the wildest horses and run up the steepest hills.

His daughter is ten, away in the nearest town at school, so he and his wife are
in the black yak tent alone.

When he was 5 a childhood illness caused him to go deaf.  He now speaks
with his hands, face and body, and utters words that at times have some
semblance to those he knew before he lost the ability to hear.

The village schools would not take him as a child, they could not teach a deaf
child.  His father wanted to send him to a special school for deaf
children in Lanzhou, but at 5,000Y per semester it was too expensive.  His
intelligence has therefore been turned towards living as a nomad, studying the
weather, the land, the animals.

In a country where disability is seen as bad, he has had a hard life. 
But, he is a proud man.  Where few nomads can read and write, he can stand
tall.  He can write his name.

I have it, scripted with a certain je ne sais quoi in my diary.

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