At the far end of the Salta library -- corner of Belgrano and Sarmiento, across the street from the Salta branch Museo de Bellas Artes -- you'll find a spacious room specially for the blind. That is cienaga in Spanish or the more appropriate term novidente.
Wind chimes tied to the door jingle as you walk in. Maria Elena, the woman who organizes the place, pops out from a back room when she hears me enter. It is a well lit and quiet room with three tables where people study, read and in our case learn to fold origami cranes.
That's Monica on the left and Maria Elena on the right. Maria Elena immediately asks to join when she learns what we're doing.
Monica taught me to make cranes by showing me step by step. First she'd make the fold while I watched, then I'd copy. I couldn't imagine how she'd teach Maria Elena without the ability to visually show the steps.
It took the same amount of time for Maria Elena to learn the crane folding steps as me. And it didn't take long for me to realize that seeing has many different meaning. It is not different for me to see with my hands as for Maria Elena to see with her eyes. They two are simply different expressions of perception, akin to different dialects of a language.
Another thing I noticed. Each of our cranes had their own personalities. Mine had a longer beak and larger body. Monica's had a longer tail and delicate beak, while the wings of Maria Elena's birds looked as if about to take flight.