Hello Darkness, my old friend

See?

My last post may have implied that there is only good to be found in entities rich in color.  While I do love the chromatic joys of this world, it is only fair to consider what life would be like without this spectral benefit.  My investigation took me to an aptly named show in Pest entitled “The Invisible Exhibition” which seeks to simulate the life of the blind for a sighted population.  After depositing watches, phones, and any other light producing device in the designated drawers, my friends and I followed our tour guide, a blind woman, into the museum.  A heavy curtain swathed out any possible light sources from the lobby – inside was an overwhelming darkness.  To navigate, we needed to rely completely on the tactile information supplied by hands and feet.  Each room evoked a new scenario – a city street, a home kitchen, and a forest wilderness – complete with obstacles to make the experience even more real.  A real working café inside the exhibit forced us to try to negotiate a transaction sans sight, but it was made all the more difficult by the foreign currency.  I especially liked the statue park where the only way to enjoy the aesthetics was by getting in contact with the art – surely something forbidden in any other display.  The tour lets out in a room (lit!) containing tools to aid those with vision struggles.  In addition to Braille literature, we noticed the speaking computer, a grooved chess set, several tactile puzzles, and some specialized cooking utensils.  While our time in the exhibit was really only about an hour, the effects were lasting.  What is intended as a social experiment to initiate tolerance and consideration is also a case study for cognitive science.  Even in the space of that hour, my ability to locate my friends in the dark improved.  Such examples call into question how we allocate the resources of our brains and utilize our sensory input.  Without making any puns about opening my eyes or enlightenment, I would like to remark on how this outing was quite informative.  Several times, I found myself getting anxious, grasping at empty air or turned around.  All too often, my eyes played tricks on me and I saw shadows or flashes of light.  I learned something, sure, but I came to appreciate something I usually do not even think about.