My dream came true

Lela and I are late, as usual.  We’re in a taxi on our way to the clinic when we realise, all of a sudden, that we are heading in the wrong direction.  A friendly argument with the driver—assuring him that, indeed, we know where we are going, and, yes, Tbilisi is a lovely city—and we are back on track after an illegal U-turn.  Crawling at a snail’s pace for the last bit, past street vendors on both sides selling wheels of home-made cheese the size of orchestra cymbals, cabbages piled up to look like pale green pyramids and plucked chickens hanging upside down from their feet like a row of socks on a clothesline, and we are here.  I reach over from the back seat and give the driver ten lari—which was not bad considering his mistake with the address although the sour puss in the rear-view mirror showed me he thought otherwise—and we fly out of the car and up the stairs where Beka and his father are waiting for us inside.

We are at the Japaridze-Kevanishvili Clinic for ear moulds.  I have brought the hearing aids, pages of print-outs ranging from what the experts at Solar Ear in Brazil have told us, directions for the audiologist and, by mistake, my electricity bill which reminds me that I need to stop at the bank on the way home.  The technicians—two grandmotherly types in white laboratory coats and half-glasses sitting behind a desk next to a tall shelf with some books and a bunch of fluffy stuffed toy animals—are stopped in their tracks as I start speaking in Georgian, rattling on about where to pay and how long before they will be ready and joking that the office was as hot as Tashkent in August and it was probably a good idea to open the window.  “Your Georgian is great!,” they said, in turns, as they put a quick setting gel into Beka’s outer ear cavity, one at a time, which will be used as a reverse mould to make a soft plastic plug to seal the ear and provide for better results with the hearing aid.  “You should hear me after a couple glasses of wine,” I replied, as I took the toy mouse from the shelf and put it in Lela’s lap which made her jump in her seat and Beka laugh out loud.

It is Wednesday.  The ear moulds are ready.  We have an appointment with the audiologist for Beka’s fitting and Lela and I are late again.  I have brought the same bagful as last time:  hearing aids, battery chargers, a packet of extra batteries which were tossed in as a donation by our friends in Brazil, translations of the instruction manuals, B vitamins—which help make for healthy ears, so I have learned—and a bunch of bananas for Lela because she has missed lunch helping me to get everything ready.  Beka is there already, wearing the coat and the sneakers we gave him for Christmas, and breaks into a full grin when he sees us.  Gamarjoba!  Rogor khart?  “Hello!  How are you?,” he says as we start climbing the six flights of stairs which are too narrow for my big feet and make me stumble a few times to the amusement of the rest.  “We are here to see Dr Kevanishvili,” Lela says to the receptionist in Georgian, as we get to the top floor and where we need to be.

Ivane Kevanishvili, or Iva for short, is the Managing Director of the Clinic—together with his colleague Shota Japaridze, they are Tbilisi’s best experts in the field of hearing loss and its treatment—and is helping us fit the hearing aids.  “It is going to be a long process,” explains Kevanishvili after learning Beka’s history of being without any sort of treatment for so long.  “He will need time to hear and recognise sounds again.  Some, like the noises of different things outside, like on a busy street, for example, he has never heard before.  Some of the particularly Georgian sounds, the sharp ones, will be difficult at first.  It is a process.  And it will be frustrating from the beginning.  But it is a process.  And in the end, it is all going to work out fine.”

 

Before long, Kevanishvili has the hearing aids on Beka’s ears and starts asking him questions about the sounds he is hearing for the first time in a long time.  The expression on his face says more than any words could as the silence turns into sounds with the flip of a switch and the proper adjustments and fine-tuning.  “How is it?  Too loud?  Too quiet?  Repeat after me,” he says as he starts counting in Georgian, erti, ori, sami… shvidi.  “Say the words I say as you hear them.”  Beka is speaking and answering the questions without hesitation.  Kevanishvili moves to stand behind him so that there is no lip reading to confuse actual hearing.  “Repeat after me,” he says again, as he starts counting.  Beka repeats but there are some small mistakes in pronunciation and some missed numbers.  “You see?,” says Kevanishvili.  “He’s relied on his eyes for so long to understand what people are saying.  He will have to train, now, to hear the sounds.  Not see them.”

It is later that night.  I am brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed when my mobile telephone beep-beeps with an incoming text message.  “Thank you for making my dream come true,” it reads in Georgian.  Of course, it is from Beka.  “Now, I can hear what people are saying.  On my own.  With no one having to help me.  Hope to see you soon.”

See you soon.  Indeed.

New Generation Georgia is committed to helping Beka continue to move forward in leaving the silence behind.  We are very grateful to everyone involved in meeting our first two targets of the round-one medical treatment and the purchase and fitting of the hearing aids.  Please join us in our project as you can.  All donations will be gratefully received and acknowledged.  As always, any alternative ideas or suggestions for meeting the next targeted interventions will be more than welcomed.  Follow us, too, on Facebook (New Generation Georgia) and Twitter (newgenerationge).

What we need:

Target 1:  USD 500 for speech therapy (three-month period and including travel of a specialist from Tbilisi)

Target 2:  USD 150 for medication (round-two of preventative treatment and rehabilitative therapy)

Target 3:  USD 20,000 for cochlear implant surgery (for one ear, based upon consultation with local surgeon)

*  *  *  *  *

“Hello!  Thank you, I am fine.”  It is a few words from Beka in reply to my daily text messages to check up on him since the hearing aids have been in place.  “I am doing what the doctor said.  Today, it is better.”  I write back immediately, although having to pull out the dictionary for a couple of words.  “Every day will get better,” I start, “and you have a whole team, in five countries, with you to help.”  I am reminded again that I have the best friends in the world.

BANK DONATIONS:

Bank of Georgia
Tbilisi, Georgia
Account Number:  176560200
SWIFT:  BAGAGE22
Beneficiary:  Jeffrey Morski
Notation:  New Generation Georgia, name, surname, home city

PayPal:

newgenerationgeorgia@europe.com
Notation:  New Generation Georgia, name, surname, home city

Something like this can only come from God

“He told his mother that something like this can only come from God.  He loves you all as if he has known you for his whole life.  He swept the floor and straightened the chairs ten times before you came and wanted everything to be perfect for the visit.  You’ve taken their pain as your own.  It’s already made such a difference.  A whole life is changed.” 

Liza—Kveshi’s school teacher, family friend and now our friend—is talking about Beka as we stand outside on the yard.  It is St Nicholas Day and we have come to the village to see him with Christmas gifts of a new winter coat and a pair of All Star sneakers wrapped in fancy red-and-green paper with drawings of snowmen, bottles of fizzy wine for Happy New Year toasts and a supply of the medicines he needs to keep the hearing loss from getting any worse.

“Come in, come in!  It’s cold outside,” says Beka’s grandmother in Georgian from the door as she smiles and waves her hands motioning us to move.  “What is everyone waiting for?!” 

Inside, the table is ready.  A plate of boiled pumpkin wedges set in a circle which looks like the rays of the sun, a pile of khachapuri cheese-filled bread right out of the oven and a jug of rose-coloured wine pressed from their own grapes make for the perfect lunch for this visit.  My friend Paula winks at me from across the table as she also notices that Beka takes the seat right next to me.  It seems that each of us has a new friend.  As the meal begins and the pile of khachapuri becomes smaller and then larger and then smaller again as new batches come hot from the kitchen and then disappear just as quickly, I catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye and try to imagine what it is like to sit in silence and not know what is being said or why everyone is laughing or be left out of everything all around you and for your whole life.  I am brought back to where I need to be with the clinking of glasses and the raising of the first toast.

“To Beka!”  It is Lamara—who has joined us for the party along with Liza and Rezo, from the newspaper—with a raised glass and she has taken the lead with what will be an afternoon full of best wishes, here and there, good thoughts, for everyone, and, by the time it is all over, too much wine, at least for me.  “To a new future!  To his new friends here at this table!  For a new life!”

A new life.

It is a couple of months later now.  We have been busy setting up the New Generation Georgia project, researching treatment options from Turkey to Brazil, looking for funds and asking a million questions in and outside of Tbilisi in order to make sure that Lamara’s toast comes true.  It has been the motivation and driving force behind each of us involved within a synergy of positive action which reminds me every day that I have the best friends in the world.   It is a team, as Paula always says and underlines through her actions, which can do together what one person alone is simply unable.  Recently, the team has gotten bigger.

Enter Howard Weinstein.

Howard is the co-founder of Solar Ear, a São Paulo based non-governmental organisation which works to provide affordable access and availability of hearing aids to the deaf and hearing impaired worldwide.  I have met him through my friend Marisha, in St Petersburg, whose research put us on the path to his door, and Mônica, my friend in Rio de Janeiro, who opened the lines and made the initial contact.  He is a Canadian national (Go Canucks!) whose list of activities and accomplishments in terms of helping others help themselves reads like a Who’s Who of people we all should aspire to be.  Before starting Solar Ear, he set up several sustainable small-businesses for people with disabilities in Africa as well as some equally sustainable social programmes for under-represented Brazilians.  His project Nem Luxo nem Lixo (Neither Wealth nor Poverty in Portuguese), which targets increasing opportunities for young people at high social risk in Brazil through providing education and training, won the Inter-American Development Bank’s award for the best business plan of 2008.

“We purchase the same materials as the big companies do so our quality is no less than theirs,” explains Weinstein as he tells me about making the hearing aids at Solar Ear.  “We did a test once between one of our 100 dollar models and one from Europe costing around 5,000 euros.  In the end, the user could not tell them apart.  The only difference is the price because our mark-up is deliberately minimal.  All of our products are assembled by young employees who are deaf.  By developing practical technologies for the region alongside creating employment, training and education programmes, the project grows into a sustainable professional enterprise which puts hearing aids where they need to be and changes societal perceptions or stereotypes about the skills of people with disabilities.”

Jump ahead to last week.

The first of Solar Ear’s hearing aids, special rechargeable batteries with a life-span of three years (unless the dog eats them, of course, as Weinstein jokes) and solar powered recharging stations, the size of a big bar of soap, to arrive in Georgia are here.  The experts in Brazil have read Beka’s audiograms and suggested two of their most powerful digital models.  We have not only received some free extra batteries but also a generous discount in the price which has come as a great and unexpected surprise.  “The hearing aid for his right ear will increase the sound he hears by 80 decibels,” says Weinstein in reply to my question about what degree of restoration Beka will have once the devices are fitted and in place.  “Every ten-decibel increase in a hearing aid is twice the volume.  So, an 80-decibel increase is quite substantial.”

New Generation Georgia is continuing in its work to help Beka regain a happy, healthy and productive life through targeted interventions addressing his hearing loss and treatment options.  We are extremely pleased and encouraged to have met our first two targets of the purchase of round-one medical treatment and the hearing aids and battery charging kits.  Please join us in our project as you can.  All donations will be gratefully received and acknowledged.  Any alternative ideas or suggestions for meeting the next targets will also be more than welcomed.  Follow us, too, on Facebook (New Generation Georgia) and Twitter (newgenereationge).

What we need:

Target 1: USD 500 for speech therapy (three-month period and including travel of specialist from Tbilisi)

Target 2:  USD 150 for medication (round-two of preventative treatment and rehabilitative therapy)

Target 3:  USD 20,000 for cochlear implant surgery (for one ear, based upon consultation with local surgeon)

*   *   *   *

Our arrival in the village is with the same bag of gifts, another pair of All Stars, this time in a different colour, more fizzy wine, more khachapuri and a smiling Beka who is waiting for us at the gate.  Even Paula’s dog has come along this time.  We have brought the hearing aids with us and will make plans for a visit to the audiologist for the fitting next week in Tbilisi.  “He’s already changed more than you can imagine,” says Liza who has known Beka for years and was his teacher in school.  “He sees hope.  Some hope.  Maybe for the first time.”

BANK DONATIONS:

Bank of Georgia
Tbilisi, Georgia
Account Number:  176560200
SWIFT:  BAGAGE22
Beneficiary:  Jeffrey Morski
Notation:  New Generation Georgia, name, surname, home city

PayPal:

newgenerationgeorgia@europe.com
Notation:  New Generation Georgia, name, surname, home city