Monday, February 09, 2009

The blind leading ...


Some years ago I set a text in an exam for my business students about a rather unique example of entrepreneurship I had come across: a restaurant in Zurich where the majority of the staff were visually impaired.


Passing through Zurich on my way back from the Research in Engineer Education symposium in Davos, presented an opportunity to check it out at first hand.

So, after about half an hour of trudging around a residential suburb of the city I came upon the Blinde Kuh (Blind Cow – named after a German children's game similar to the Blindman's Buff I played as a child), an imposing two-story building in its own grounds.

Entering the brightly lit entrance hall the friendly and apparently sighted young receptionist told me that one usually needed to book in advance but as I was alone they should be able to fit me in and she then picked up the phone and confirmed this with staff inside. I was told that my waitress Andrea would come to collect me in a few minutes but first I should my food and drink from the menu on the wall and I should stow any light emitting objects lie cell phone or watch in the lockers in the hall.


A few minutes later I was introduced to Andrea, a young woman in what looked like an old-fashioned waitress uniform. She turned her back and in basic English explained I should put my hands on her shoulder and once I had rather hesitantly complied led me through thick curtains into a dark hall, through double doors down a sloping corridor in complete darkness. Finally through more curtains and we were obviously in a large room, full of rather noisy people and as I stumbled behind my guide the strong smell of food reminded me I had developed quite an appetite walking around looking for this place.


I was guided to a seat at the end of a table and soon after I had awkwardly seated myself a and fumbled around in front of me to see what was on the table, Andrea was back with my beer and starter. She told me that if I needed anything I could just say her name and she would come. She added laughing that I was sharing a table with 7 beautiful young women. “Yes we are 7 beautiful young women” confirmed a voice from just next to me to laughter from the rest of her companions.


It transpired they were work colleagues on a girls night out to celebrate the birthday of one of the group. We went on to have a really delightful dinner-table conversation and they even got me to sing a little of an old Irish ballad, Roisin Dubh which seemed to go down well with the nearby tables.


My initial feelings of almost infantile dependence on entering this large dark space were now replaced by a certain sense of liberation: I would not normally have joined a table of 7 young women in a restaurant, much less revelled in the company and begun singing after a single beer. Whats more, after repeated empty fork arriving at mouth incidents I was soon enthusiastically eating my main course (pasta and salad) with my hands, aided by some kind of baps it was served with. I noticed people at other tables seemed quite noisy and boistrous and got the distinct impression the total darkness encouraged us to behave in a slightly larger than life fashion.


My 7 companions departed in excellent spirits and I was left to finish the meal on my own. The food did seem particularly tasty, due perhaps to a heightened sense of taste, and I must say it was a very satisfying experience eating and drinking in this ambience. Andrea must have been in attendance somewhere nearby because whenever I said her name she was on hand to attend my request. When I had finished I was guided out again and found myself blinking in the brightly lit foyer paying my bill.


As I set off back to my hotel I reflected that I had often tried to imagine what it would be like to be blind but now realised it is one of those things you can only appreciate at first-hand and the memory of the evening is likely to stay with me a long time.