Civil servants and others struggle with traps and pitfalls to gain an insight into the daily challenges faced by the disabled

Story by Anjira Assavanonda and Karnjariya Sukrung

Pictures by Somkid Chaijitvanit

If one wishes to understand other people, try stepping into their shoes.

That’s exactly what a group of international workshop participants did last week to gain insight into the experience of being disabled.

On the streets of Bangkok, some took to wheelchairs while others blindfolded themselves or simulated being elderly by wrapping their arms and legs in heavy bandaging that slowed them down.

For four hours, the group of “disabled” walked and wheeled themselves around a hotel and then into the bustling streets around Bo Bae Wholesale market.

The participants from 13 countries from the Asia-Pacific region were taking part in UNESCAP International Workshop on Raising Awareness of Public Administration Personnel.

“Doing this exercise allows people to see and feel things in such a way that in future, when they are involved in development plans or designing buildings, they’ll be more empathetic towards the needs of people with a disability.” said Kenneth Parker, a building services engineer from Robert Gordon University, Scotland, who has led exercised like this one before.

Ideally, he said, participants would stay “in the experience” for at least 24 hours.

“They should learn everything a person with disability has to deal with in a typical day, from eating breakfast to doing personal errands and travelling.”

In this short workshop, however, just a few hours had a to be enough. Participants were divided into three groups – six “blind” , six “elderly” and six “wheelchair users”. There were three helpers. Then they were dispatched into the world and asked to report back with their findings.

BEING ‘ELDERLY’
To feel like an elderly person, Muhammad Majid, the director of Special Education from Pakistan, had to wear heavy bandages and straps around his knees, shins and arms in order to make his movements more difficult and stiffer. To simulate poor vision, he wore goggles that allowed little light.

“I feel old. These straps are really weighing me down.” Said the tall, strong, middle-aged Majid. “I feel like parts of my body have died down. I can’t walk very fast. I think I am actually limping all the time.

“It’s also difficult for me to bend my knees and ankles and to use my fingers effectively. It makes climbing stairs quite an ordeal,” he said as he held tightly to a stair rail, eyes fixed on the step ahead.

“I realise now how helpful the rail is for the elderly. It’s really hard for them to negotiate steps, especially high steps, without good support.”

Majid wasn’t just slow, he was easily tired, he said. He and the other “elderly” constantly took short rests after a walk up a stairs or after walking on flat ground for a lengthy time. “Chairs are very helpful for the elderly., There should be more of them everywhere,” he said as he found himself a sofa.

Small signs and notices were also a problem. “I have to put my face right up to the writing in order to be able to read it. Even the numbers on elevator buttons are too small and hard to read. This all makes me a bit clumsy and slow to press the button for the floor I want to go to. The numbers should be bigger and brighter.”

Interestingly, there were times during the small exercise when he felt that as an elderly person he was being excluded.

“I felt left out of the group and ignored. People walked too fast, leaving me behind. I felt I wasn’t given much attention. I think this might be how many elderly may feel regularly.”

The glimpse into another world made Majid think of his parents.

“This is an eye-opener. It’s making me understand my aged parents more. I understand now why they do things slowly or have difficulty with things like putting a pair of socks on.

“I think I’ll hold a similar workshop for mobility trainers and others in my country so that they get the same experience.”

BEING ‘BLIND’
Riddley Jayasinghe, lecturer at the National Institute of Social Development in Sri Lanka, said life looked rather different when he was blindfolded for four short hours.

“It’s horrible not being able to see a thing. I feel insecure and scared, because I don’t know what’s ahead of me or if I’m about to bump into things and hurt myself,” he said.

Before making each step, Jayasinghe swung his walking stick about, looking for clues, even though he was clinging tight to the elbow of helper from the Philippines who was constantly describing the scene for him.

“Once I found myself in the dark, my ears started really picking up sounds. I think sound is like radar for the blind. Is this glass?” he asked, while tapping his stick against a glass window.

“We should think about adding sound to environment, to give the blind directions and make their lives easier.”

Without sound, brail, or textured signs, Jayasinghe found using elevators difficult. There were no brail letters to help him find the button for his floor. When he wanted to answer a call of nature, it was impossible to figure out which of the two available bathrooms was for males.

“Without assistance, it’s so difficult to go about,” he said. “I can’t imagine myself being blind and doing things by myself or long. It’s good if a blind person has a personal assistant to help him all the time – but that would be so expensive,” he said.

A HELPER’S EXPERIENCE
Dorji Phub’s experience as blind person’s helper will change the way he works, he said.

Phub, the national programme offficer at Health and Education Ministry in Bhutan, had to stay right beside his “blind person” and guide him on his way.

“I had to be his eyes and warm him of obstacles coming our way.”

To do the job well, he had to give it his entire attention – an excellent learning experience, he said.

“I used to sit in the office as a policy planner, thinking about what should be done for people with disabilities, without really knowing their reality. It’s been great to learn what their real problems are,” he said.

Things are more complicated than most policy planners realise, he said.

“When the disabled ask for help, the planners usually just give them sacks or wheelchairs. But it’s more complex than that.”

Phub felt he would put this workshop experience to good use when he returned to Bhutan. I’ll go back and look at what we have done in our policy paper, see if it needs to be adapted, then talk to all the stakeholders to get feedback. There’s much to review,” he said.

WHEELCHAIR LIFE
Hassan Mousavi Chelak, a social worker from the Social Security Office in Iran, was in a wheelchair once before, when he took part in a similar simulation exercise as a social work student at university.
Back then, he went so far as to play basketball on a wheelchair.

Still, in the Bangkok workshop he found it difficult to manoeuvre the wheelchair the wheelchair in many areas, including a heavily carpeted floor.

“Many places now provide ramps for wheelchairs but sometimes they’re too steep to get up by yourself. I’ve tried to do some ramps on my own but found it really tough. You could easily just roll back down them,” said Chelak.

Potholes and uneven surfaces made negotiating streets very tough.

“You could easily tumble over if you’re not very careful.”

But the most difficult thing was people staring at him. “Many people looked at me with pity. I could see it in their eyes, from hotel staff to vendors in the market. I didn’t like it.”

The wheelchair-bound Chelak tried hard to be independent, refusing help when it was offered. “Most people treat the disabled with pity, trying to help them, giving them everything, which is not what they need. The non-disabled must learn about the abilities disabled people have. They are independent-minded people who must be respected like everyone else.

“People should distinguish between pity and empathy. Empathy is good as it makes people more considerate and better understand the disabled, but pity is too much and sometimes it overlooks their rights as human beings.”

ON REFLECTION
After their short experiences, all the participants had complaints about the hotel’s facilities – which are similar to those of other establishments – and about Bangkok’s streets.

“Before we had the simulation exercise. I felt the hotel was okay. But once I became an elderly person, it was no longer so friendly, “said Majid. “There were many minor things that I hadn’t thought of .”
Toilet entrances, for example, were too narrow for wheelchairs. Floors ere dotted with steps and few ramps. Some of the ramps were too steep. The reception counter was too high for wheelchair users to reach.

Glitzy decorations like glass and mirrors that gave off a lot of reflections were a problem for those with impaired vision.

On the street, the pavement was scattered with potholes, uneven pavements and vendor stalls that prevented wheelchair progress. ATM machines and telephone booths were too high for wheelchair users.

“People are not handicapped. It’s the bad environment that’s the handicap,” said Parker. “All people should have access to places. This is a human rights issue. Don’t think this whole thing is about being disabled-friendly environments, environments that suit everyone.”

Building barrier-free environments doesn’t required a lot of money or extras, just a bit more thought and consideration, he said.

Floors should be level; there should be ramps instead of steps; stairs should be shallow; telephone booths and hotel counters should be lower, to make them more accessible.

“We’re not creating a barrier-free environment for anyone but ourselves. Any of us might have an accident which could temporarily cripple us some day. And most certainly, aren’t we all growing old?” said Parker.

Bangkok Post, Outlook section published on Thursday 10 April 2003