Arts

It's dark — pitch black, darker than anything I've ever experienced — and I'm in an unfamiliar room with nine other women, most of whom are strangers to me. Although it feels like the beginning of a B-rated horror flick, I don't expect any axe-wielding maniacs to burst through the door. My eyes strain to see something, anything, but there is no light. I'm blind.

I'm sitting in the waiting room of "Dialog in the Dark," a new exhibition now open at Atlantic Station Exhibition Center in Atlanta. "Dialog" is more of a journey than an exhibition, designed to challenge visitors to learn to "see" without sight. Armed with a cane, visitors make an hour-long trek through normal life experiences — except it's none too normal in complete darkness.

"Dialog" was developed in 1988 by German Andreas Heinecke, who got ideas for the exhibition while working for the Foundation for the Blind in Frankfurt. He created "Dialog" to bring people together to increase tolerance and respect for the blind through more open communication.

Before we start the journey, our guide, Ava Carruth, who lost her sight 17 years ago, tells us to reach to our right, open a box and investigate its contents. She challenges us to use our remaining senses to identify the items … a bag of potpourri, swatches of fabric, coffee beans. It's all preparation for what lies ahead.

It's time to start walking. Following Carruth's voice, I lead the way into the first room, taking baby steps, sweeping the floor with my cane. The ground is soft, like grass is underfoot. I hear birds chirping and the trickle of water. It's a park.

We're loud, but polite — "excuse me" and "sorry" are the most-used phrases as we bump each other in the dark. I feel crowded and alone at the same time — although I hear their voices, I don't know where my fellow visitors are until I run into them.

My cane bumps into wood. I take a step up, and feel a rail on my right. The sound of water comes from beneath. I'm on a bridge. Carruth challenges us to find the park bench. We explore, canes bumping into trash cans, stones and trees on our relentless search to find what we can't see.

"I found it!" one woman exclaims. Carruth encourages her to keep talking to help the rest of us find our way to her. As we gather around the bench, I'm jostled into a corner, trapped between a tree and metal fence. Every way I turn, I bump into someone new. I'm beginning to get uncomfortable, but luckily, it's time to move on.

As I enter the room, last in line this time, my right hand reaches out, grabs a shelf and feels something soft and squishy wrapped in plastic … toilet paper. Next to that is a heavy plastic jar with a screw-off top. Peanut butter, perhaps?

"Customer needs assistance in aisle five," a monotone voice says from above.

We're in a grocery store. Carruth asks us to find different items by feeling and smelling. I wander around until I bump into a bin. I experience a sensory overload as I explore the different fruits and vegetables. Cantaloupe has never smelled so sweet, garlic so pungent.

We baby-step into the next room. Although we've been blind for about 20 minutes, none of us are confident enough to make a full stride. I hear seagulls call and our canes thump on wooden planks.

"I think it's a buoy," a woman in front of me says. Another woman finds flippers. My fingers trail across netting on the wall to our right and find a fishing rod. We're at the ocean, on some sort of pier or dock, about to board a ship.

We carefully board, and the captain tells us we're going to Jamaica. He cranks the motor, and the gentle rocking of the ship, which is usually calming, now gives me a slight case of vertigo. I feel a breeze, and ocean mist sprays my face.

We reach shore, and as we depart the ship, the soothing sounds of the ocean are replaced by something much more menacing — traffic. Carruth tells us we're about to go into Brooklyn, N.Y. As we crowd onto the sidewalk, horns blare and vehicles zoom by.

"Oh, no … I don't like it here," one woman says.

Although I know there isn't really any traffic, I'm apprehensive. We cross the street, discovering a car and bicycle on the way. Carruth decides to get us off the street, so we enter one of the stores.

The quiet is a relief after the busy street. We're not alone in this new room, two women greet us and ask us what we'd like to drink — we're at a bar. After ordering, we make our way across the room and settle into a circular booth. Although I know my fellow visitor's names — they've been called out for the last hour — I can't associate them with a face. But they are no longer strangers; we've all groped, jostled and bumped each other too much for that.

We discuss our journey and are surprised to learn we had a shadow throughout the entire thing — Peter, a fellow guide, had followed us since the park, lingering quietly in the back.

Carruth tells us about herself. She came to Atlanta two years ago after finishing school in Michigan – she has one master's degree in rehabilitation counseling and another in rehabilitation teaching.

"When I lost (my sight), I had to make a decision, because I was not gonna sit still," she said. "And I've just been up and going ever since." Carruth works part time at the exhibition and full time as vision rehabilitation therapist. She travels, goes cruises by herself, has tried downhill skiing and is very excited about her next adventure – parasailing. She refuses to have a guide dog — "I ain't pooper-scoopin' nothing" — and doesn't seem to have a fear of anything.

"I cannot walk with fear, because if I look fearful, I am a target," she said. "But if I walk out strong and confident, even though I'm fearful inside, I reduce my chances of being a target. I get fearful when I do something new, but I try and make sure I keep that to a minimum because I don't want to talk myself out of it, because I love new experiences, and I love exploring new things."

We walk down a corridor, gradually introduced by into the light. I walk out of the dark, my eyes squinted, but open to a whole new world.

"Dialog in the Dark" runs Monday-Sunday, 9 a.m.-8 p.m., now through Feb. 15 at Atlantic Station Exhibition Center in midtown Atlanta.

'Dialog in the Dark'

What: Exhibition that simulates blindness
When: Monday-Sunday, 9 a.m-8 p.m.
Where: Atlantic Station Exhibition Center, midtown Atlanta
How much: $24 adults, $20 seniors and military, $16 children under 12. Not recommended for children under 8.
Contact: www.dialogtickets.com