The trouble with having a handicap not shared by most people is that no one appreciates it when you have a major victory. If they care about you, they may try, but it's difficult to avoid a "well, duh!" inflection when faced with an accomplishment that is, to you, incomprehensibly easy.
Take Porter along an unknown pathway once, and chances are he will be able to reproduce it. Take me along the same route 10 times, and if I am talking, listening, thinking, or otherwise not paying deliberate, close attention to landmarks and directions—which I find very difficult to do—and I will still have no clue how to get from A to B. Basel is not a large city, but despite several visits I couldn't tell you how to get from Barfüsserplatz to Theaterplatz.
I am not, however, as incompetent as I appear, though it took the writings of John Holt to convince me. His How Children Fail and How Children Learn opened my eyes to both the negative effects of fear and pressure on learning, and to the importance of allowing learners sufficient time to "play around" with a puzzle, be it a Rubik's Cube or a mathematical concept or navigating a city. The need for that exploration, unhindered by expectation, pressure, or "help" varies from person to person and from problem to problem.
For my first solo walk through Basel I began slowly, marking my turns and frequently looking behind me for familiar landmarks. Much to my surprise and pleasure, I had no trouble finding the Basel Hilton, and from there was able to retrace part of a walk we had taken on a previous trip. I was inexpressibly delighted to find myself at Barfüsserplatz—though as yet I had no idea how close I was to Theaterplatz.
(The only time I felt lost in the least was in the train station Migros store, which was jammed with Sunday shoppers—most stores are closed on Sundays here—and from which there appeared to be no exit at all for one who had nothing at all to purchase and who did not want to wait in a very long check-out line for nothing. The trick, it turned out, was to screw up the courage to ask the security guard for help, for no sooner did I approach than he regally swung open the "no exit" gate and waved me through.)
I found my way home with no problem whatsoever, and was ridiculously proud of myself!
Emboldened by this success (and an emergency map and cell phone), on my next walk I abandonned the constant checking backward for a retreat path and decided to trust my feet. I wandered the city for nearly three hours, finding myself variously at the Musik-Akademie, the University, the Predigerkirche (considerably warmer than when I was there two Januaries ago), walking along the Rhine (which was flowing swiftly and glittering in the sun), buying fresh rhubarb from a farmer at at Marktplatz, and puzzling over diapers and baby clothes at Coop City.
There's a lovely park very close to home here, and I intend to investigate it soon. There are trails that will be much more beautiful and relaxing than a city walk. But I find myself continually drawn into Basel. I know that my navigational successes must be frequently reinforced or I will lose them; I'm still very much in the "playing" stage.
More than that, I treasure the thrill of victory. It more than makes up for the knowledge that few people will ever understand why it is an accomplishment at all.
