The room buzzed with excitement as guests streamed into a well-lit event space at the Oregon Commission For the Blind office in Southeast Portland at noon Friday. Some followed a partner’s lead and others used canes or mobility aids to find their way around four rows of long black tables.

The Kālua-themed luncheon was complete with matching decorations. Green leaf placemats adorned each setting, and colorful flowers and grass tassels hung from a fifth table lined with Kālua pork, macaroni salad, tropical coleslaw and rolls. About 60 people sat at the tables, and 15 others stood in and around the doorways, positioned to serve food.

Friday’s menu was prepared by visually impaired students who had just completed three months of meal preparation classes. Other students, family and staff at Portland’s Orientation and Career Center for the Blind gathered to celebrate the end of the students’ term.

The center offers free training programs for students ages 14 and up who qualify for vocational rehabilitation services. To qualify for the center’s services, clients must be considered legally blind or have a condition that will lead to legal blindness within two years, vocational rehabilitation director Angel Hale said.

The center is a program of the Oregon Commission for the Blind, a state agency established in 1937 that serves more than 600 clients annually through vocational rehabilitation services alone, she added.

Classes offered include orientation and mobility, Braille, adaptive technology, and a variety of home economics skills, including meal preparation. Each term lasts three months, and the center offers four terms yearly. Students work with an assigned counselor to pick a personalized curriculum of classes.

On Thursday afternoon, the center’s training kitchen bustled with activity in preparation for the luncheon.

“This is the heart of the center,” instructor Ella Browning said.

Browning, who is also visually impaired, was a former student at the training center. This term, she worked with instructor Char Cook to teach one-on-one classes to 10 students for two hours a week.

“We’re big on keeping people’s dignity by allowing them to look very confident in the kitchen,” she said.

A large rectangular counter cut the room in half, and four quadrant kitchens surrounded the island. Each quadrant contained a complete kitchen with cupboards, counters and appliances customized to students’ needs. One kitchen area had accessible shelving and wide pathways to accommodate people who used wheelchairs.

Many students either have a progressive condition – where they lose their eyesight little by little – or they have experienced a sudden loss of sight, Browning said.

That means that students come in with varying levels of confidence. Some have been cooking their entire lives and become blind, while others never learned to cook because their families worried for their safety.

Vision loss is not one size fits all, she said.

The kitchen was stocked with adaptive devices such as heat gloves that protect students from high temperatures while allowing complete dexterity. Browning used the gloves to demonstrate an oven safety technique that relies on tactile methods rather than visual cues.

Other adaptive devices relied on auditory feedback – thermometers and scales were programmed to speak out loud. A small white disk at the bottom of a pasta pot rattled to indicate when the water was boiling. The microwaves had braille buttons, the salt and pepper had different bump textures, and the measuring cups had notches along the handles.

“Meal prep combines techniques of daily living and home management. This is a package. You can’t just start cooking if you’re not organized, or if you’re not labeling things or cleaning things,” she said.

Cook, a co-instructor, has worked at the center for 18 years. She is retired but helps Browning part-time.

“There is isolation with vision loss, as you can imagine. You have a diagnosis that you never wanted, and then your phone stops ringing. People don’t know what to say. But cooking – then you can pick up the phone and say, come over to my house for dinner,” Cook said.

Cook does not have any usable vision, she said.

“We try to live the talk, walk the talk. I want to learn from somebody who gets it more than somebody who tells me what to do. And I think that’s a part of the success in this kitchen,” Cook said.

As Cook talked, students gathered around the island table to listen.

Shannon Parker, a 61-year-old from Gresham, was one of Cook’s students this term.

Her favorite dishes from the term were springtime fettuccine and a cheesecake with a homemade raspberry topping.

“I look forward to coming here. It really opened my heart,” she said.

Another student, Aiden Ronk, agreed from across the kitchen island. The 22-year-old stressed the importance of the community at the center. He and Parker plan to take classes together next term because they’ve become close friends. Ronk will return to Portland Community College this fall after taking a break for his health, he said.

Jim Portillo, center director since January, said an important part of the center’s training is for students to see each other at different stages of vision loss and skill development to navigate it.

Meal prep students Elias Lopez and Jesus Garcia come from vastly different backgrounds.

Garcia was born completely blind. When he signed up for a meal preparation class earlier this year, he had no experience in the kitchen. Now, two terms later, the 28-year-old lives independently and the skills he’s learned at the center have been crucial for his success, he said.

“It’s a testament to how much this has actually benefited us. This has really given me the skills not only in the kitchen but in every facet of my life,” Garcia said.

Elias Lopez, of Portland, has loved to cook his entire life. The 26-year-old was fairly comfortable in the kitchen but found he needed to adjust his skills once he started losing vision as a teenager. In sessions at the center, he’s learned methods that make cooking safer.

“It feels good to prepare food for other people because, you know, it’s not something everybody expects a blind person to be able to do, so it’s kind of nice to break some boundaries there,” Lopez said.

As family and friends of clients enjoyed the dishes Friday that Garcia and Lopez had helped prepare, Portillo passed a microphone around for students to share their takeaways from various classes this term. One learned to navigate the Beaverton Transit Station; another completed Braille curriculum; and one adapted her meal preparation skills after suffering a stroke that cost her the ability to walk, speak, and stand. Another client shared a heartfelt poem with the room.

Lopez talked about the importance of the community he has found at the center, as he hopes to seek long-term employment next term.

He remembered how it felt when he first started losing his vision.

“I had completely written off doing anything with my life,” he said.

Lopez was unaware of how many opportunities were available to him despite his visual impairment. He’s a Safeway cashier now, something he didn’t realize he could do. But his bigger goal is to work with the public – coming to the center has allowed him to realize the importance of impacting other people, he said.

“You’re just starting,” Portillo said.

— Riya Sharma covers Here is Oregon feature stories. Reach her at rsharma@oregonian.com or 503-294-5996.