The Day of Silence is over. And now I'm writing a post summing up my experience:
I had recalled it was the DoS a very little while before it started. I quickly logged on, told everyone I could to be quiet (Bow-Boy expressed regret at being told so shortly in advance, saying he could've notified many of his friends), and told my little brother that I would be quiet the following day. He said he'd like to see me being quiet for 24 hours...
My step-father, however, didn't get warned in advance, and was very offended when he came to the den and I didn't say a word, pointing at the screen with the Wikipedia DoS article on it. I got him very cross earlier that day, and that sure didn't help. So he told me I couldn't do any 'Silence Days' like that, and called my mother to tell her of my recent actions. He let me talk to her (I was forced to speak...), and she explained to me why he was offended (I honestly didn't understand he took it so personally). When he calmed down I explained to him everything, and he said he was afraid I'd decide to do these things with no prior warning, with drastic effects. Eventually, he gave his approval, wondering how other people would react to my decision. I gestured 'thank you', then went to sleep, having started observing the silence an hour late.
The following morning, I quickly recalled I should keep my mouth shut, an when my little brother told me he hadn't gone to school, I remembered to gesture 'why?' and not ask. He quickly recalled that I'm supposed to stay silent, but didn't remember why (mostly because he didn't understand himself).
For the time I was home, my little brother and step-father made several attempts at making me speak, all futile. My step-father talked to me about the undone dishes, and I gestured to him that he was to come only at 3:00 PM (it was 2:00). He told my little brother that I gestured '3' at him by waving my arms around (I just trie to grab his attention...), and they joked about it. I pointed at him, pretended to laugh, then pretended that something fell out of my mouth and broke, to my dismay, on the floor. My little brother translated: 'You ped your funny.' (My little brother said that our father was to come at 5:00, and eventually he came almost half an hour late...)
Later on I went to sweep the house. My mind was occupied with various philosophic thoughts about speech and its importance (ereyesternight I'd been certain I'd come to the conclusion words are rather redundant, but later came to understand how lost we'd all be without them. I was relieved; being a very verbal person, I thought that languages, the second love of my life, woud turn meaningless). I noticed that the order of gestures I used matched Hebrew syntax: I pointed at myself, then shook my right inde finger from side to side, then opened and shut my right-hand fingers to imitate speaking motions, like in Hebrew―ani (I) lo (no) medaber (speak). Yet, had I been in Sweden or Iceland, it would be point-speak-shake―Jag (I) pratar (speak) inte (not) (Swedish), Ég tala ekki (Icelandic). Had I been Irish, it would have been shake-speak (but with my hand on my mouth)―Ní (not) leabhraíom (I speak). And if I were left-handed...
However, after a while I said my first word (out of two) that day: I reflexively asked my little brother to move, and he rejoiced at my little trip. Jesus, I hate that kid. Then I spoke to Alex, who told me she tried being quiet, but her friend came over and ruined it. She was very impressed with my success.
My father was mildly amused when my brother informed him I was not to speak for the remainder of the day. He, his girlfriend, and her children, adjusted quickly to the idea, but she made some snide remark about being 'satisfied with my new means of communication'. (Oh, and I said my second word that day: I reflexively said 'No!' when she knocked on the toilet door. Should've knocked on it too...)
I wondered if I should stay silent for another hour, to fill up on that one hour I missed, and decided to do it. I explained it to all people present that it was a more matter of personal challenge (to be honest, the protest element faded away rather quickly). My father said I went way overboard with the whole silence thing, and didn't bother to read my last note. And my little brother said that I have to be silent for an extra second for having said 'move'. Ugh.
Anyway, one day of silence taught me a lot about the importance of words. But more importantly, it taught me to shut the fuck up. I liked shutting up for a while and not saying any dumb remark or joke I instantly regretted (and also let me see what it's like when I don't speak my random mind). I didn't feel like talking the next morning, and I did it a bit reluctantly. Maybe I'm gonna be a bit of a Silent Bob now...
Another important thing I discovered was why people think I'm a snob: because of my language. People think that when I distinguish between 'who' and 'whom', or use some fancy-schmancy vocabulary, it is a sign of pretense. Well, it isn't. I speak like that because I want to. This is my natural style of speech. And I correct people's grammar because I'm very sensitive to little grammatical mistakes (such as not distinguishing between masculine and feminine numbers in Hebrew). For fuck's sake, I use slang, and lots of it! (Oh, and calling people stupid to their faces isn't very helpful either... But it's only to people who really deserve it, like arsim. And the things I usually talk about: languages, literature, things like that. But that's for another post.)
Well, I've used quite a few words already. What about you? Were you silent? Share your experiences in the replies.
But more importantly: What will you do to end the silence?
Unum diem...
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