Customer Reviews

The Unheard: A Memoir of Deafness and Africa

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Working as a Peace Corps volunteer in a remote African village is not an easy undertaking in any situation. For an inexperienced, idealistic and, in addition, deaf person, such an adventure makes for an extraordinary story. Josh Swiller spent close to two years in northern Zambia in the village of Mununga, one of the most deprived villages in a poor region. Referred to by locals as "Gomorrah", a place with no hope and rumoured to have the most "ndoshi", witchdoctors, many wondered why this young American had come amongst them. His experiences and encounters, his learning by trial and error, and, most of all, his falling in love with the village and Africa, is the content of this unusual and highly readable memoir.

Swiller was part of the first group of Volunteers to work in Zambia in 1994. Creating water and sanitation systems were the primary objective; educating and motivating the local people was the rationale. Getting villagers to dig wells turned out to be a bigger challenge than Swiller had anticipated. Local politics, tribal strife and natural distrust of outsiders undermined any initiative from the start. It did not help that the Peace Corps rules insisted on no money being brought into such a project. The local people who had never seen a white person, assumed "Ba Josh" to be wealthy but too mean spirited to share his money with them.

Life for the villagers was hard. Periods of hunger during the dry season alternated with an onslaught of flooding and disease during the rainy season. The small clinic was understaffed and completely inadequate in dealing even with the most basic services. Swiller's description of village life is vivid and his sensitive portrayal of the people he shares his time with is personal and realistic. Augustine Jere, the health worker, stands out as a friend who helps Josh adjust to local habits and conventions. With the well digging facing major roadblocks, Swiller assists Jere in the clinic. Jere's advice is not to address any problem head-on but to move towards it like a "snake in the grass". Unfortunately, Josh doesn't always adhere to the advice, with dramatic and even dangerous consequences. He is very honest about his mistakes and recognizes that part of his vulnerability is based on his own inadvertent or short sighted actions. He has become a pawn in the local power plays. He receives some reassurance when he finds out that other volunteers are facing comparable difficulties. The new main aim, they are advised by Peace Corps officials is "cultural exchange".

The author explains that his deafness was a condition he had always found hard to cope with. Thanks to intensive speech therapy as a child he spoke well and was able to lip read in optimal conditions. Yet, despite these and his hearing aid, he was not able to overcome his feeling of being always sidelined and marginalized in conversations and groups. Living in rural Zambia changed his experience and outlook completely. For the first time, he states, deafness was not an issue for him nor for those he was communicating with. Having learned the basics of the local language, he discovered that the local tradition of talking one at a time and facing the addressee made social contacts a lot easier than he'd ever known. He discovered a new freedom and happiness that could not be shattered by any, how ever disastrous, event that occurred in Mununga.

Despite many disappointments and even dangerous situations Swiller called Mununga home. His deeply felt emotions for this part of Africa shine through his writing. Publishing his memoir a decade later suggests that Africa has left a deep mark on his soul and mind. [Friederike Knabe]

I was also a member of that first group of PCV's to serve in Zambia and Josh and I were two of the eight who completed our commitments, although a couple of those who didn't complete their stint left for health reasons. I loved his book, and was unable to put it down once I started on it. I'm only mentioned in the book once, a bit out of character. Page 42: I'm the "middle-aged alcoholic from Michigan" (I object to the "middle-aged" part, as I was but a young lad of 39 at the time).

The story of Josh's departure from Munungu was never fully revealed to me until reading the book. Like all government-related organizations, Peace Corps is great at keeping secrets and rumors always abound. Josh and I were not close but we did bond a bit after he returned to Kabwe and was once again teaching the deaf students. It was only upon reading the book that I gained an appreciation for his intellect and the really horrible experiences he had in Munungu. At Peace Corps meetings or functions, he always seemed distracted, not interested, withdrawn. After reading the book, my eyes are opened to what the guy endured up there in Munungu and what being deaf is really all about.

I pre-ordered the book, with low expectations. Basically, I was concerned about what he may have said about me. What I did not expect was the clarity and smooth-flow of the narrative, the exceptional descriptors of characters ("voice like firecrackers" comes to mind), the entirely accurate desriptions of life in a bush village. A lot of what he wrote brought tears to my eyes, as I had experienced similar things in my own village of Lukwesa. Plus, I knew or had met a lot of the people he talks about in the book.

After reading it, I was ashamed at myself for not getting to know him better while in Zambia those two years, for underestimating his abilities, for not have taken more time while there to help him with his problems instead of selfishly concentrating on my own. The book opened my eyes to a lot of things that were happening right under my nose, but in my hearing ignorance I was blind (equally handicapped) to events as they occurred in regards to brother Josh. My apologies, Josh.

This is a great story written by a courageous young man who coped with a host of things (in Zambia as well as dealing with his own deafness) way better than those of us who are not so impaired. I vouch for its truthfulness and content and I know I will be reading it over and over again until the pages are frayed at the corners and the book will lie open voluntarily at whatever page number I'm on.

Greg Irish
Las Vegas, Nevada
Member of Peace Corps Zambia One

So what makes this better than your average 'let-me-tell-you-about-my-time-in-a-third-world-country' book?
1. A real story. Powerful material. No flowery travelogue here, no do-gooder cliches.
2. This guy can write. Pithy and unsentimental style; characters and scenes spring vividly to life.
3. And I can't emphasize this enough: Swiller is genuinely funny, with an spot-on sense of comic timing.
Highly recommended, an engaging and satisfying read.

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.

I read this book in a two-night binge, and when it was over, I felt regret, like I wished I paced myself better. I guess I was simply swept up in the vibrant prose and imagery. Josh Swiller may have heard only a distorted version of what was said, but no detail escaped his notice. Lucky for the reader. The Unheard is both hilarious and heart-breaking, and completely lacking in any kind of self-congratulation. At the hands of a less-skilled writer, this story could have easily veered into a cloying coming-of-age travelogue that oversimplifies Africa. Instead, this is a must-read book introducing a literary talent I hope we hear a lot more from in the future.

We pay too little attention to the deaf. When we knowingly meet those who are, there's a tendency to raise our voice. If the person is wearing aids, that's a blast of sound made unbearable by the wearer. We are used to filtering out "background" noise when in conversation, but the hearing aid wearer can't make that distinction. All sounds wash over them at nearly equal strength. When they seem to fail to comprehend our meaning, we raise our voice again, compounding the problem. Little wonder they surreptitiously turn off the aid and withdraw. You have failed to understand the situation.

All this is the case in the developed world where technology is available to help the disadvantaged. Transfer the conditions to a small village in Zambia, Africa, where hearing aids, even electricity, are unknown. Josh Swiller, who was profoundly deaf by the age of four, made that transfer. He became a Peace Corps volunteer in Mununga, where a tiny village had burgeoned into a dispersed town of fifty thousand. Although sent to induce the villagers to dig wells for fresh water, local politicians blocked him. Turning to health care and teaching deaf children, he tried to immerse himself in the local society. The deaf, especially children, are ignored by the people as being essentially useless.

Settled in, he is given a housemaid, and a young boy attaches himself to Josh. But it's Jere, a health worker from another tribe who becomes his real contact. Working together in the local "clinic", they become fast friends. Josh struggles to learn the language and to become part of the local community. Advised by Peace Corps "Administration" that his best role is in "cultural exchange", a swimsuit copy of "Sports Illustrated" becomes the channel for communication. At least with the men. The surrounding forest is nearly denuded of wildlife, but there are bananas. Banana wine becomes a lubricant to communication when beer is unavailable or too dear. The locals, expecting much from a white man from the US are perplexed over his hearing disability. They are uncertain of how to deal with him, but they think he should perform significant deeds. Josh struggles to gain understanding and to assume a respected role in the village. After all, he represents the world's greatest power. His background and ambition to address the needs of the village bring confrontations with local leaders. That isn't their way, as he quickly discovers.

He's a caring person, in a place where caring is virtually unknown. An accidental death leads to a ferocious lynch mob, and Josh witnesses the retribution. Serious injuries are inflicted for what seem minor crimes. AIDS is present, but those afflicted are, like the deaf children, ignored and scorned. Able workers are off at the copper mines and civil unrest in neighbouring Zaire brings hordes of immigrant refugees looking for work. But Josh cannot pay, nor will the village. One man, Boniface, seeks local power and uses Josh as a foil to help gain it. A confrontation is inevitable, and the book's opening and closing depict it graphically.

Swiller's concern for his neighbours in this remote place is vividly conveyed. He has numerous issues to cope with, and few resources but his personal drive to help them. The first rainy season with its hordes of disease-bearing mosquitoes is a soul-searing shock. Children under five are particularly vulnerable and he's forced to witness funeral fires that "dotted the night like traffic signals for ghosts". With a sterling command of language, he imparts his feelings with unforgettable prose. "Cultural exchange" fails to lead him into some form of "Neo-colonialism". He realises the impractical nature of that ideal, and realises the villagers have more to teach him than he can ever understand. His homeland has little to offer Mununga's people, and he dreads leaving them and himself unfulfilled. Although he's angry over his failures, he dearly loves the land and the people. [stephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada]

This is perhaps the best memoir I have ever read! Joshua is a gifted writer as well as a born story-teller with an amazing eye for the telling detail and just enough mordant wit to keep you from becoming overwhelmed by the pathos and cruelty he witnesses.

This is an incomparable page turner that will keep you thinking about it for days after you finish it. I'm really wary of books that seem to have a message because more often than not they use formulaic plot devices or end up preaching to the reader.
This book, however, stops with many loose ends and the sense that his story is ongoing.
Swiller writes with unaffected honesty that will make you wish that there were more that you could read of his writing (I checked, this is his first and only so far). It also makes you care about the people that he was close to (anyone else want to set up a campaign to help find Jere?).
It's been about 2 weeks since I finished this book and I have retained images and impressions from it which to me is a mark for an incredible read.

As a returned Peace Corps Volunteer who served in southern Africa at about the same time Swiller did, I was of course compelled to read this book. It's a beautifully written book about his experience for nearly two years in Mununga, a large village in northern Zambia, near the border of Zaire (he was in the first group of PCVs to come into Zambia after Chiluba was elected in 1991). He paints a riveting and vibrant picture of a village, and its people, many of them extraordinary human beings. In retrospect, PC never should have sent a volunteer to this village due to its political instability and accurate reputation as a violent place. His was not a typical PC experience.

The book is not easy to read, although darkly hilarious at times. It reveals the brutal truth of life (and death) in much of Africa, and is often painful and heart-breaking. He learned, as Peace Corps Volunteers, or anyone who lives for a time in an impoverished place, do, to be grateful for every moment of life.

It brought many personal memories back as many of his experiences were similar--the remote village, the insatiably curious children, the transportation issues, ndoshi/witch doctors, the too young mothers, the alcoholism, the sometimes maddeningly slow pace at which things get accomplished or don't; cultural differences that made communication and connection challenging. Some things I feel he didn't quite "get" as a man; didn't have a window into; but still it is a compassionate and an absolutely extraordinary piece of writing and experience.

Although he is deaf and this is somewhat central to his narrative, much of his experience transcends this.

Thank you, Mr. Swiller, for bringing your extraordinary experience to life in this beautifully written book.

Swiller's book performs the tricky task of introducing two alien worlds at the same time, that of Africa and a world without sound. This beautiful, lyrical story of a young deaf peace corps volunteer in one of the most dangerous towns in southern Africa, a place where no peace corps volunteer should have been (or has ever been since) is told with humor, warmth and keen insight.

Swiller is an extremely human character and leaves little off the page, from unfortunate encounters with the town's vamp, to the serene peace of turning off one's hearing aids in the middle of a crowd, to nearly being lynched by a drunken mob after too many arguments with the corrupt officials of Mununga. Beyond the anecdotes, Swiller's love and understanding of Africa and his unique ability to articulate the deaf experience are what make this book an essential read.

This is a beautifully written book and performs its essential purpose, it expands the world of the reader and allows us to greater understanding of the world we live in.