How to order dim sum when you’re deaf? A silent dining experience shows the challenges

“When you think about the yum cha experience, what comes to mind?” Joey Lee asks us. To me, it is the cacophony of diners and dishes, clamouring and clinking – the familiar din of a typical dim sum meal. You have the siren call of the aunties pushing the old-school carts around clashing with lively chatter, the constant tip-tapping of plastic chopsticks and the muted thud of a bamboo steamer landing on the table. When you want something, you might signal to the waiter and call out a request – extra cutlery, a serving of chilli sauce or a top-up of tea perhaps – all the while half-listening to the ongoing conversation happening between your dining companions. For most of us, this is ordinary – mundane, even. But for those who live without a sense of hearing, it can be a completely different experience. Lee is the head of corporate business development at Dialogue in the Dark (DITD), a charitable foundation supporting “people of differences” – those with disabilities, such as the blind or deaf – with programmes that highlight their abilities and talent. The NGO helping young Chinese disabled people shine in the workplace Lee and DITD’s chief executive officer, Louis Hou, emphasise that they use the power of educational “impactainment”, a portmanteau of impact and entertainment, to narrow the gap of understanding between these differently abled individuals and the general public. Partnering with Eaton HK hotel, the team is settling us into what will be one hour of complete silence, where we can only communicate with our bodies. The silent yum cha session is facilitated by two of the organisation’s staff, Keith Lee Kam-wah and Tracy Fung Hiu-man, who both lost their hearing as toddlers. The experience is immediately disorienting, as staff hand each of us a heavy set of noise-cancelling headphones and instruct us to put them on. It is not completely silent, of course – you can still hear the faint murmur of those still talking, and the high-pitched clink of cutlery. But being told to not speak or remove the earphones at any point during the session did add a slight element of anxiety. I noticed that our seats were absent of water or tea, and it occurred to me that perhaps one of the first things we would need to do is find a way to order drinks. After a short warm-up where we stretched our hands, wrists and fingers, Lee and Fung launched into a tutorial, showing us the ways to sign various types of tea. A tug on the ears represents puer, a reference to how the Chinese character for er resembles a long ear lobe, while jasmine, often translated as “fragrant leaf” in Chinese, involves creating a wafting motion in front of the nose, as though you are appreciating the aroma of the brew. Silent childbirth: midwife in China draws comics labour guide for deaf woman The tough part began soon after: we were hungry, but to receive our meal we would have to take turns expressing the names of dim sum items without speaking, essentially playing charades. First up was an appetiser of cloud ear mushrooms with smacked cucumber, confidently mimed by the first diner in the group through a series of deft movements. The second group member also made an impressive showing with her depiction of drunken chicken: a hand to the forehead to express wooziness, followed by a flap of the wing and fingers splayed to represent a rooster’s crown. When it came to my turn, I balked at the name of my dish – steamed scallop siu mai. My teammates had no issue with my haphazard representation of a scallop – cupped hands to represent an open shell, followed by forming a scallop-shaped circle with my thumb and forefinger – but were discombobulated by what followed next: how was I meant to express “steamed siu mai” with my hands? Flailing about, I desperately tried to demonstrate steamy water vapours, and barbecuing something over a fire – siu in Cantonese is the word for “roast” – but was stuck on mai. Because it sounds similar to “buy”, I mimed taking my wallet out and paying for something, but probably looked like someone passing out fliers or sowing seeds. Tragic. The Hong Kong running club where the deaf lead the blind Luckily, Lee is a far more experienced actor – he stepped in to more accurately showcase the word “roast” – forefinger and middle finger acting as prongs – and the team managed to piece two and two together after what felt like an excruciatingly long period of time. The frustration of not being understood, I imagined, is just a fraction of what people like Lee and Fung experience in their daily lives (though, as they indicated to us, smartphones have been a lifesaver), particularly while the city still had its mask mandate, which meant that lip reading was not even a possibility. Eventually, our table was successful in getting a full line-up of dim sum, from XO sauce stir-fried cheung fun (easy) to vegetable sprouts and conpoy dumplings (near impossible). As I snacked on salty-sweet smacked cucumbers, I wondered how different my enjoyment would be if I were unable to hear the telltale crunch of the vegetable – a theory that experimental psychologists Massimiliano Zampini and Charles Spence once tested using crisps as an example of how auditory cues affect the experience of food and perception of crispness. After one hour, we were allowed to take off the headsets – another disorienting experience after the muffled silence – to engage in a hybrid conversation with sign language interpreters as well. One important element that Hou and Lee wished for us to take away from the experience, was that apart from a different way of communicating, there is very little that divides “people of difference” and those of us who can hear, and that we should look at each individual’s abilities rather than their “disabilities”. Hong Kong Blind Orchestra could be ‘finished’ if it can’t find new space “Dialogue Experience hopes to improve participants’ interpersonal relationships,” the organisation says in a written statement, adding that people who yum cha now often look at their phones and communicate less with those in front of them. “‘Silent Yum Cha’ provides them an opportunity to stay away from electronic devices and focus on communicating with their friends or colleagues.” They also hope that participants in the experience will realise the privilege of being able to verbally communicate, and how putting themselves in another person’s shoes can be of value. After the experience, I can confidently say that my acting skills definitely need improvement.