The Unheard: A Memoir of Deafness and Africa

Features

• Cover Type: Paperback with 288 pages
• Published by: Holt Paperbacks September 4, 2007
• Written in: English
• ISBN 10 Number: 0805082107
• ISBN 13 Number: 978-0805082104
• Book Dimensions: 7.9 x 5.2 x 0.9 inches
• Weighs: 8 ounces

From Publishers Weekly
Although doctors diagnosed Swiller's deafness early enough to fit him with hearing aids, the young man from Mantattan's Upper West Side still felt different. As a young adult he drifted from college to college, job to job, relationship to relationship, never quite finding what he was looking for: a place beyond deafness. He found that place in the mid-1990s, when the Peace Corps posted him to a remote corner of Zambia. During his two-year stint working in a run-down health clinic in a rural village, he fought for irrigation projects and better AIDS facilities. He befriended a young local who played chess and provided constant counsel in the ways the young white American could—and did—run afoul of local tribesmen (and women) and their age-old ways. Deafness would have provided a unique sensory filter for anyone, yet while Swiller may have his particular aural capabilities, he also has literary talents—an eye, a voice and a narrative talent—in abundance. A story in any other Peace Corps volunteer's hands might have been humdrum, but in Swiller's becomes intensified, like the rigors of day-to-day Zambian life, through deprivation. (Sept.)
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Product Review
“I thought I knew about the Peace Corps until I read Josh Swiller’s hilarious, troubling, and at times frightening recreation of his time in Zambia.  His wit spares no one—least of all himself—and his generosity of spirit encompasses nearly everyone.  His experiences in Africa transformed him, and this book will transform readers.”—Laurence Bergreen, author of Over the Edge of the World: Magellan's Terrifying Circumnavigation of the Globe
 
“I was riveted by this book from page one. Swiller shouldn't have lived to tell this tale, much less been sent to a village in deepest Africa that the locals called 'Gomorrah.' But he did, and he's returned with something priceless: a story suffused with humor and love about a place where corruption and death were regular visitors. Swiller hears the rhythms of language and life far better than most people with two normal ears.”—Michael Chorost, author of Rebuilt: How Becoming Part Computer Made Me More Human “As my mother used to say, ‘You got your listening ears on, bub?’ This is not gimp chic, nor misery memoir, but a book as deserving, funny and brave as a deaf man digging wells in hardest Africa. Hoo boy. And I thought being blind at the bus depot was harrowing. Yeesh.”—Ryan Knighton, author of Cockeyed: A Memoir
“Josh Swiller was 22 and profoundly deaf when he applied to the Peace Corps in search of adventure. And indeed, adventure he found. His experiences in Zambia are eloquently recounted in his hard-to-put-down memoir of deafness and Africa, “The Unheard””—The New York Times, Health section

"Several ingredients are crucial in a memoir like this: humor, the ability to see enough details to make the scene come alive and a dispassionate compassion. Swiller has them all."—Los Angeles Times

"[Swiller's] appealing, intelligent narrative serves both as a coming of age story and as a penetrating light into one corner of a tormented continent."—Washington Post

“Josh Swiller rewrites the familiar African narrative with a purity that makes the tragic beauty of that devastated continent a stunning novelty for readers. We experience the rich, tangible passions of love, honor and revenge in Africa, amplified a thousandfold in the quiet world of the deaf.”—New York Observer


Reader Reviews
Review originally published in the Hipster Book Club, April 2008. Josh Swiller's memoir, The Unheard, tells the story of his two years as a Peace Corps volunteer in Mununga, a dusty Zambian village home to tribal factions and a host of refugees from neighboring Zaire. Deaf since childhood, Josh was raised by devoted parents who trained him to speak and lip-read with the assistance of hearing aids. Raised to fit into the hearing world, he attended Yale but encountered feelings of isolation and frustration toward heavily-accented professors who spoke into chalkboards. In graduate school at Gallaudet University, he attempted to immerse himself in a new Deaf community but discovered that he was just as isolated in a world that spoke exclusively American Sign Language. So Josh went to Africa to find "a place past deafness." After a ten-week training course, Josh was off to inspire a sense of community ownership in Mununga, with a charter to organize the villagers to build their first community infrastructure: wells to provide fresh water to the disease-ridden community. The villagers, led by politicians whose primary concern was getting their rake of the banana wine production, were perplexed that the white man didn't have the money and power to give them a well. Politicians had deep-seated tribal affairs to sort out and were suspicious of Josh's motives in offering "help" to the community without bringing along cash and resources. Josh writes of the plight of the Africans with a voice of introspection and humor. His teaching experience required navigating "an educational system based, apparently, on the principles of unlimited recess." By keeping the tone light, Josh conveys profound insights with nary a trace of pity for himself or the economically ravaged country. For his part, Josh was able to speak Bemba, the tribal language, better than any of his fellow volunteers. Bemba was just another series of verbal sounds Josh had to perform without hearing. In the village and even the larger city centers of Africa, background noise was low, so Josh was able to distinguish sounds more easily. He also noted that people tended to speak to him slowly and directly, further aiding his comprehension. Josh formed warm friendships with his cook, houseboy, and fellow health clinic worker Jere. In many ways, The Unheard is the story of Josh's friendship with this steadfast and wise chess player. Jere was Josh's constant ally throughout his struggles fighting for resources, adhering to tribal customs, and maneuvering against a ferocious tribal leader out to destroy Josh for his own purposes. Josh learned to adapt his style to reach the Africans in any way possible. In one of his more successful moves, he fosters cultural exchange by passing out a Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition to his male students. The zenith of Josh's experience in Africa was the construction of a local clinic for which Josh put his own Peace Corps career on the line. He self-funded the effort via outside grants in quasi-violation of bureaucratic red tape. Throughout his time in Mununga, Josh wrestled with his inability to effect lasting change against a tidal wave of cultural differences. He finally acquiesced to the urgings of his friend Jere to make one small, practical contribution to the village by building a clinic. Josh's arch nemesis, the tribal leader Boniface, manipulated both the Peace Corps volunteer and the villagers throughout the process, misappropriating project supplies and resources, and finally sabotaging the project in a climactic lynch mob of violence. For Josh, the after effects were devastating. He was forced to suppress his personal outrage and again adhere to the advice of his friend Jere, who continually encouraged Josh to adapt to the local system. Josh learned that subtly outwitting Boniface at his own game was much more effective than pursing any official means of justice. Josh Swiller did indeed find a place past deafness in the lakeside village of Mununga, Zambia. He was a Peace Corps volunteer in a war-torn, disease-ravaged region in which being light-skinned and American was strange enough that no one bothered to alienate him based on deafness. In his memoir, he casts a critical eye at the Peace Corps process as well as his own conduct in Africa. Josh recognizes that he had naïve goals when he first arrived; learning how to work within the system was an arduous process. He balances his criticism of the local government corruption and his frustration at the lack of industrial progress with his genuine awe and appreciation for the beauty and friendship he found in Mununga. The Unheard is at once a comedy of errors, a coming-of-age story, and a touching tribute to a strange piece of paradise. Comments (3) | | (Report this)