Tyron Woolfe: Reflecting on the young Deaf barista in a Deaf cafe in Morelia (BSL)

Tyron is sharing a number of reflective blogs on Limping Chicken about the people he met and what he learned in Latin America. Tyron has been travelling Latin America and returns from seven months away in March.

To watch Tyron sign his article, click play below, or scroll down to read on in English!

The clouds kept building up and I just knew after walking about 20 mins that I should have brought my umbrella with me, or a jacket.

My Whatsapp “Morelia group” with a few deaf friends of deaf friends in Mexico had been filling up with messages in Spanish for the past hour and it became somewhat clear, despite my limited understanding as well as Google Translate not being effective, in addition to my temporary old phone screen being so difficult to read in daylight, that I was not going to be meeting a few deaf people after all.

One of the excuses was admirable; having to finish a set of false teeth for an important American client (!) Nevertheless a couple of them recommended going to this Deaf Cat Café called Gatosordo.

I remember hesitating for a while but then deciding to just go and see what this café was about and to see what would come my way.

As I arrived at the café after getting lost a few times, it was clear I had found a café that ticked all the boxes for me.

A good range of books, board games, dark red and wooden coloured furniture presented wonderful deco, and further, there was a strong aura of good Mexican coffee.

Even further, it was a Deaf café, with sign language featured visually in different art forms, including images of LSM (Legueje de Senas Mexican) alphabet across the room.

I located the main counter and there you stood, a young-ish lad of maybe 24/25 years old, clearly deaf and rather thin.

You were wearing glasses and you had quite a nice haircut. You looked at me in a knowingly way, as if I was the 20th deaf person to have visited this café in the two years since it opened, and you appeared courteous, behaving as a professional member of the staff.

I introduced myself and told you I was English (cue the international sign for policeman-helmet, please don’t ask!).

You introduced yourself as Manu, and you told me that you were working here as well as studying at college. You occasionally glance at this lady who is sat on a table speaking away with her boyfriend, or at least I thought he was.

It then became clear she was your boss, a friendly one too. I remember trying to explain to her about being from England and how there is a “Deaf Cat” café in Rochester, Kent.

She hadn’t a clue as to what I was on about. I tried to open up a map on my phone, I searched google for images, but somehow it still didn’t register with her.

But Manu, you totally got it. You looked impressed in a way. You brought my attention to a picture – a friend of mine had been to this café a few years ago and left an autographed picture of his wrestling alter-ego image on the wall. I was quite delighted to see this, although it meant I was definitely not the first deaf person from the UK to have visited this cafe, drat!

You then almost immediately returned behind the counter and started clearing some dishes. I remember how you continually appeared to be a kind of a “take one step forward and two steps back” guy.

I was rather unsure if we were allowed to have a chat, you seemed nervous and it was almost as if you have been told to not bother me too much. Or maybe it was me, being an older deaf guy with bleached blonde hair at the time, and the overall positive friendliness I seem to channel outwards, perhaps too forward?

I ordered a strong black Americano and a crepe with ham and cheese. As you set about cooking and making my coffee, I recall asking you questions about deaf people in Morelia and whether this café belongs to the Deaf community.

It was rather hard to ask you these questions, it was almost like you wanted to tell me more but you felt you had to remain behind the counter.

I remember sitting, drinking my coffee and wondering about you. I wondered if you were being exploited or whether this job was a great god-send for you? Was this owner someone who was trying to genuinely empower deaf people like you by giving you work, and were you being paid peanuts?

I wondered if you even liked this work and if it was helping you develop wider skills? You seemed so nervous about wanting to make sure everything was clean and every task set for you finished.

Later on, I showed you my (Spanish) phone messages from the busy whatapp group, and asked if you knew any of these deaf people. You confirmed you did.

The weather suddenly turned incredibly black and rainfall was almost going to break out. I asked you to kindly text in Spanish to explain to Cruz (another deaf person) that I would be going to my accommodation as it was getting late and very wet, and that he was clearly not going to get here in time. I remember how you were keen to type away and how grateful I was.

The owner kindly offered me a lift back in her car to my place given the awful rain and my lacking anything to cover myself with. It was really sweet, we set out to her car whilst you concentrated on securing the cafe windows etc.

Suddenly the lady was on her phone for a while and told me somewhat emotively that the deaf group members of the whatapp group had just texted her directly, begging her to keep the café open a little longer and for me to wait for them to arrive.

I smiled to myself, fate was happening my way again. I have had so many nice experiences of fate during my travels, it was really fortunate. At her insistence, I remember re-entering the café with her. We quickly explained to you what was happening. You stayed with us and then the deaf people of Morelia arrived.

I could see you coming out of your shell-like behaviour almost as soon as they arrived, as if the increase in deaf people bolstered your confidence. You started asking me questions whilst they arrived and greeted me.

You appeared disappointed to realise I was leaving Morelia in the morning. You gave the sense that we hadn’t finished conversing. The friends offered to take me out for dinner and I agreed, but you declined from joining, putting your studies ahead of your evening.

I have such beautiful memories of Morelia, it was such a beautiful place with lots of historical architecture and so much to admire. There are hidden streets everywhere. There are churches and a big cathedral. Brilliant green trees and plants stand in contrast with the strong colours of each building.

I wished I could sit down with an easel and paintbrush and just paint different parts of this amazing town. However to include being deaf and living in Morelia, I would have loved to have featured you in this painting. I remember wondering whether I would use some abstract image to demonstrate this consistent ambiguity about you, or would I paint something more definite?

As you headed off to your studies with some reluctance in your shoulders, you turned to me and waved again, and I wished you well in your studies.

I believe that meeting Manu was important, a positive sign that there are some deaf young people who are studying, training and wanting to overcome issues for deaf people.

Of course it was not the same for many people I met later in other countries of Latin America, especially where poverty is such an overriding challenge.

Tyron is travelling the Americas until his money runs out. Part of the opportunity whilst travelling includes developing some of his writing skills and his blog has been recently shared with his friends and wider.

Tyron is in his early 40s and loves a good laugh and cuddle with friends and family. He has worked for over 20 years with deaf children and young people. He is keeping an eye out for his next career move whilst travelling. His travel writing focuses on the people he has met whilst travelling rather than about the places he has seen.