While Lim could communicate via sign language, I, regrettably, do not understand it. I expected my limitations to greatly hinder our rapport. 

But to her credit, it didn’t quite matter once I entered her world.

THE “SILENT STUDIO” EXPERIENCE 

From the get-go, Lim seemed to share my cardinal rule of interviewing: Model the behaviour you want to draw out in others.

Easing into a high chair, I instinctively turned to my right. She appeared to register my preference for my left profile – and my nerves.

The proverbial “deafening silence” was causing a racket in my head: Where do I put my arm? Does my neck always sit like this? What’s up with my wonky eyes? And since when did breathing suddenly feel like advanced choreography?

Lim seemed to hear it all. Relax, she told me, by pressing her palms gently downward in the universal sign to loosen up. I dropped my shoulders, and she smiled. 

I was a good student already, I thought, confident of my journalist’s ability to read body language. I got this.

Then she crossed her right arm over her left. I mimicked her, but she shook her head. The other way then? Left over right? Was she doing a mirror image? A riddle? A test? 

Either way, we finally got the shot.

Come, hop off the chair, she beckoned next. She stepped behind it and placed her arms on the backrest. 

Can you do that? Her expression read. 

Maybe? After my previous communication hiccup, I wasn’t entirely convinced my brain could get my body to behave accordingly. 

Lim valiantly, and very patiently, came to my rescue with a detailed demonstration. Stand just behind the chair, your stance open and steady. Rest your arms on the backrest, supporting your head. Tilt your head to the right, toward the studio lighting.

Next shot: Get back on the chair and cross your legs. Rest your arms across them. Wait – not like that, the other way. 

Finally grasping my chronic left-right confusion, she gave me the kind of look that needs no words: I’m just going to touch your arm and move it myself. She gently reached for my arm, quelling my internal panic. 

Honestly, thank goodness. There. Much better.