The translation profession can be very interesting. Especially when interpreting. I have such ridiculous and absurd incidents that I lose track of the details. You meet new people, there is always something new to learn, travel and explore the world. You are improving language and psychological skills… well, sweet job. The events and characters are quite real. Names are initialed for national security reasons… Ha ha, bullshit! It's just that the names are not important here, but the events. I don't know how many there were, I can't count to that many.
I haven't been to an interpreter recently, not of the type like in the stories. Banal things like going with a client to a bank, to a notary or to a doctor do not count. Look, it's interesting in the aftermath of First district. And they already know me there. However, every time we see K. or M 1 we remember at the same time how side by side we "saved the world", but instead of honor and respect, we received censure. And shall we meet with M.K. or G.K. we greet each other with a "long, white onion" and fondly remember Doña Cecilia and the long journey home.
Balkan witches save the world from an alien invasion
It was the spring of 2013. I worked as a community center secretary. A delegation from our city was invited to Kerasco, Cuneo Municipality, Turin Region for an international conference of sister cities. There were also delegations from Spain, Germany and Portugal. The theme of the event was "Exchange of good practices for waste collection and disposal". I was a kind of assistant translator, if necessary, without a fee, only with a travel allowance. There was an officially appointed interpreter with the group, a woman I will call the Interpreter or She.
We traveled to Bucharest peacefully. At the airport, after the duty free shop, I lost the group. Even then, I was a bit "sneaky", but I didn't wear glasses all the time. I took to looking around like a rat and looking for the gate number on the board. I look - a policeman meets me. I politely ask him in English to give me information. And he grits his teeth and tells me:
– It says on the board above you.
- I know - I answer politely - but I don't see. At which he dressed as if I told him I had rabies. My English wasn't very good at the time and I must have left him with the impression that I was blind... But I got detailed information on where to go.
I found my people. At some point we lined up for a final check before boarding the plane. We will travel with Wizz Air. I'm with a bag that I know is suitable for hand luggage. I put it in the pink one where they check to make sure it's coming together... and a bespectacled, pouty employee explains to me that it came out 2 centimeters. I give her a bad look, I press the jacket, it wasn't full and it gathered. Yes, but no. It couldn't. At that time, the whole group passed, people were pushing from behind, and we were arguing about my bag, with which I have already flown with this company several times.
"Pull aside," the cog tells me sullenly. I explain that he has to let me go because I'm the group's translator and they can't leave without me. At that moment, I see the bus that takes the passengers to the plane is about to leave. I grab my jacket and slip through the door, jump and I'm in. The woman waves and foams at the mouth, and I smile and wave at her. The people around laughed, some even complained that she was giving them a similar problem.
The flight went relatively well. Except for one bawling baby and one puking child, though. They picked us up from the airport and we went to the hotel. At some point we all looked around and started rubbing our noses. The stench of cow dung wafted everywhere. The driver explains to us that in Piedmont it is a common practice to fertilize naturally. We arrived at the hotel. Literally in the middle of nowhere, something like our Rhodope villages, but flat and without mountains around. And with a wonderful infrastructure, unlike ours. We did not see any Martian craters on the way. A few scattered houses and fields. Frazione they call him. The hotel is nice, clean, sophisticated, with a beautiful garden and terrace (this terrace will be key in the subsequent events). We settle in... And we realize that the only place where it doesn't smell like manure is the toilet. We resign ourselves to spending the next week surrounded by fragrances.
The evening passes pleasantly. The next morning we had a meeting with the mayor of the city and the local government. I sat with the group in the guest section, and the Translator and two of our people - in front of the microphones. The meeting has begun. It struck me that the level of the translator's foreign language was very good, at times even better than mine, but she translated into Bulgarian so twisted and complicated that our people asked me to translate for them. At some point, the translator got up and said in Bulgarian something like "I can't translate anymore" and left. Us – with eyes like pancakes and mouths to our knees.
Translation troubles - part 2 - And the river of absurdities flowed
We waited a bit, Belkim would return, but... it wasn't written. I took over the rest of the meeting. After the official part, they took us for a walk around the city. The translator appeared at some point and... it was as if nothing had happened. On top of that, he categorically refused to help the group with translation in shops or when the hosts were telling us something about the city.
I stepped into a role. I found it interesting and useful. The evening passed "unremarkably" as the doctors write in the epicrisis. The next day we had another official meeting in the morning. The representative of the travel agency we were traveling with pulled the Interpreter during the afternoon walk and started scolding her. I was nearby and listened. She was outraged by her unprofessional attitude and made her give me a portion of her fee. She was nodding in agreement, apologizing...then she came to me and started talking about how we are colleagues and should help each other when needed, etc. It was funny to me and I let her know that I didn't want her money, but I also said that I don't think she is hired to translate only for the official part, but all the time. We have lunch at the hotel, a portion of pasta 15 euros. We decided not to have dinner at the expensive restaurant, but to buy something and hang out on the terrace. And she became what she became... The translator turned out to have some kind of mental illness, a form of schizophrenia I think, but successfully controlled with pills. Yes, but she hasn't taken her pills in a while.
In order not to disturb the other guests, because we are Balkans, a bit noisy, we asked the manager if we could use the terrace. A large part of our group settled there, we put what everyone bought - wine, appetizers, cheeses... and the party began. A bite, a drink, a laugh, everything was as it should be. From topic to topic, everyone's conversation turned in one direction: esotericism, occultism, aliens, religions - well, all interesting things. And still the Interpreter led the conversations. Until at one point She started babbling…I'll call them quirks. It turned out, according to her, that aliens are currently attacking the planet for the purpose of occupation and mental entrapment of humanity (trivial cliché). We started to laugh, to be original... and She screamed. She screamed, became aggressive, downright angry. He accused us of being careless, atheists, we will burn in Hell... well, he just pushed us into the ninth circle of Hell. One of the men, K. was openly mocking already and She cursed him. If he got ten boils on the four letter. Even today, I'm not sure what exactly we experienced then. Confusion seems to be the most accurate word. We just weren't sure exactly how to react. Little by little we started to get into a role and agree with her and she calmed down. She began to explain to us in detail what the attack would be, what types of aliens were attacking us, and how She would drive them away. I remember the attackers were 3000. No kidding! She was showing us the glowing points in the sky and no amount of power in the world could convince her that they were just… stars.
All the while the men were giggling secretly so as not to annoy her. We had two M in the group. M 1 was so shaken that he pulled himself to the balcony railing to collapse in the dark. At one point he began to sway with laughter and the aha took off. I don't know where it would go down, we were at the bottom of the Inferno simply.
The alien drama continued in full force. She was collecting forks for weapons (knives someone had prudently hidden). He explained that these were wands with magical powers. The company at the table gradually replaced the feeling of amusement with that of annoyance. I opened my laptop and started playing clips of my children (they play, sing, dance, go to competitions)... and She forgot about the war of the worlds. We chatted for half an hour, mainly about my children, it was also interesting, he wished them new successes, etc. and seemed to calm down completely. And then M2 snapped: "Enough, it's getting boring, put something else on that laptop." Big mistake, huge. And he realized it in the next seconds. She turned sharply to me and said in a hasty tone, “I'm sorry, dear, but we got distracted and way off track. And they are coming and we have to act. Come on, all together!” – her tone was strict and commanding, intolerant of objections. I looked at M2, trying to tell him with my eyes that if the aliens didn't abduct him, I would finish him off. I wanted to shout "Well, you're so stupid, Sasha" (I don't remember where that line came from, but it was exactly right in our situation).
Some of the colleagues were already looking with pure horror in their eyes, but there was no way they would lower themselves because She was watching us closely. Others were still being pranked and having fun. She was talking to me, explaining to me how to hold hands to strengthen the energy field, looking into my eyes... At one point, her gaze went blank, she moved her head slightly to the side and began to chatter, as if she was talking to another: "Hmmm , are you here, are you here? I can see you, but you won't scare me. What are you talking about, I can do it too. I'm not afraid of you' and bared his teeth ominously in the dark at nothingness. All of this spewed out in seconds and by the time we figured out what was going on, She regained her composure and continued talking to me normally as if nothing had happened. In ten seconds. Then she fell into this state again, but this time it was on M2's side, she began to wave her hand and mumble the same words viciously. And so several times…
At one point, our "savior" calmed down, apparently they stopped talking to her. Oh, and let us breathe a sigh of relief, but a scream followed: "Candles! We need a lot of candles! And more forks." It's a good thing he didn't think of knives... He just ordered me to go down to the kitchen and get as many as I could. I was already pissed off and even complained that I wanted to sleep and I didn't care about her walking alone. Yes, but it couldn't. She had to sit up there to fend off the invasion, and she trusted me to go. You see! I went down and asked the waiter without explaining what they were for. And I promised to return them in the morning. I couldn't keep my promise, though.
A ritual ensued that would have been the envy of a voodoo wizard. She sings softly with closed eyes, chants some spells, we hold hands, sit around the table and hold forks like wands with the tips up, the fire from the candles crackles, and all around is impenetrable darkness; only the lights of the hotel below suggested that we were still on Earth, in the human dimension. No one dared to move, lest the "savior of mankind" become angry again. I don't remember how long it all took. It felt like forever. Most of us started yawning, some of us quite rudely gaped with our mouths. Our hands were busy, no one dared to let go, and here and there white teeth flashed in the darkness.
The ritual is over. She breathed a sigh of relief and announced solemnly that the alien attack had been repulsed and we could sleep peacefully. I rushed to put away the forks and candles to return, but She said she would take care of it. We will not expose ourselves to people, to think of us as petty thieves. We represent our country after all. I agreed. I was too tired to foresee the next events.
We got up early in the morning. We had an informal meeting in town and planned a short excursion around the surrounding area. It struck me that no one commented on the incident of the night before. We got into a small bus and drove off. We chatted, looked at the landscape, the driver - an Italian - told us some things, I translated. We were crossing a bridge over some river when She shouted “Stop! Stop now"! The driver slammed on the brakes. While we were wondering what was going on, She opened the window (she was sitting in the front) and threw a huge plastic bag full of something into the river to the bewildered look of the Italian. Most of us quickly realized what was in the bag. And the colleagues who did not take part in the midnight shaking of aliens and demons were ... no speech, no picture. "Go, go," she said calmly to the driver, "Now I'll explain everything to you." And he began to explain. The Italian-Catholic first had to understand what an idiot he would be to throw garbage into the river and pollute so hideously. While he was trying to get used to this sacrilege against nature, he was informed in detail about our Balkan rituals, that objects that have collected negative energy are thrown into running water. The objects were naturally the forks and candles which I had promised to return. He also realized that the night before he had been saved along with all of humanity. At the latter his eyes flew out of their sockets, and his countenance looked as if a stake had been driven through his heart. The Bulgarian witchcraft lesson ended with “You don't need to thank me, it was my duty. But the colleagues here also helped a lot." Shower!
The poor man didn't say a word. The only thing that came out of his mouth was an emphatic NO several times when we asked him to stop for a cigarette or the toilet. What the heck did the snowstorm say - if they start throwing more bags... We, ashamed, clutch our fingers and shiver in anticipation of reaching Turin to relieve our natural needs. In the end, we couldn't stand it. I explained to him that the thing on the bridge was some misunderstanding and that we had no idea what the interpreter was thinking of doing and being so good as to stop for a toilet. The Italian reluctantly agreed, apparently the European in him had spoken, even though he was giving us a bad look the whole time. But before he stopped, he told me to talk to his boss, if he allowed. Shame and disgrace.
We explored Turin. Beautiful castles, good coffee, delicious food...we took pictures, went shopping. She naturally disappeared somewhere and I stepped into the role of translator. But not to the group, but to each one individually. What followed was a run from store to store, to the neighboring cafes… but I won't lie if I say that I enjoyed it. However, at one point I told them that I still had to buy something and they should stop whistling at me. In all the commotion, we forgot about the midnight absurdity and its morning continuation. Until She showed up. We were waiting to enter in front of a palace when She blossomed out of nowhere, as if teleporting. We exchanged two or three banal lines about the weather and who bought what, when suddenly the woman became numb, glazed eyes, full of terror and began to pull me and hide behind my back. "Quiet, quiet, he must not see me," she repeated like a mantra. "Who the hell?" I ask with annoyance and bewilderment... A monk with supernatural abilities was waiting for her in some cathedral to do I didn't understand what with the shroud of Jesus. But some demon was chasing her because she stopped the alien invasion and now she was in danger. But she definitely had to get to that cathedral "... because otherwise..." I didn't understand what evil would befall us if she didn't go there. Suddenly, as he was hiding, he let go of me and ran somewhere. I breathed a sigh of relief thinking 'just three more days'.
After the walk, we gathered at the agreed place. The translator suddenly appeared from somewhere, smiling, calm. He winked at me and whispered, "It's okay." Perhaps she expected me to question her because she sat with an expectant look and ready to speak, but I just nodded and pulled away.
We came home in the evening, bought something to eat again. The weather was quiet, warm, there was pleasant, light music, Italian of course. A shower, a short rest, and part of the group went to the terrace again. The others sat at the tables downstairs in the restaurant's garden. But the approach to the terrace was locked. The translator was not there this time. She informs us that unfortunately (only for her - to emphasize thickly) she was too exhausted from the recent events and was going to sleep. Yay! I went to talk to the manager to unlock our terrace. We met in the hallway on the first floor. When he saw me, a mixture of horror, anger, accusation could be read in his eyes... if we arrange all the negative feelings like Mendeleev's table, everything poured out on top of me. Still, the man made an effort to speak politely. He asked me what I wanted. I asked him to unlock the terrace, whereupon there was a definite answer, almost shouted:
- ABSOLUTELY NO! – so no chance, sister.
- Why, what's the problem'? - I wondered. If we were noisy last night, I'm very sorry, it won't happen again - I tried to appease him in a pleading tone.
And then such a waterfall poured out from above me, compared to which Niagara simply crackles.
- You, the manager began to shout madly, you are Balkan witches! what did you do last night I know, I know everything. You are crazy! I'll call the police, you know. Shame and disgrace. You have done magic! I had to get my wife and kids to safety early this morning! I will kick you out! I'll call the mayor! Witches! – the torrent of insane accusations did not stop.
- But what happened, I don't understand? – I managed to interrupt him at one point.
- Your colleague told me everything - he continued wheezing. I can convict you of stealing dishes, do you realize that!?
Hmmm. The candles and the forks. Which She threw into the river. And so that they wouldn't think we were thieves and expose ourselves, the morning before we left for Turin, our beauty explained everything to him. But exactly how it should be. About the invasion of demons, about our folklore rituals - in general, a sour stew of mysticism, folklore and occultism. Told to a traditional Catholic! I was embarrassed, angry and funny all at the same time. I started to explain that yes, there was something last night, but we were all playing a game. I told him that the woman had schizophrenic deviations and we didn't know until that moment that we were also shaken by last night's appearances, but we played in the movie because she became aggressive. I categorically stated that we are not random people, that we are Orthodox Christians and all these abra-kadabra are foreign to us. The manager calmed down a bit. At least he stopped looking at me like I was an alien. But he categorically refused to let us onto the terrace. He stated that he wanted us in his sight and would watch us. When I asked if we could eat our food so it wouldn't spoil instead of ordering from his restaurant, the answer was "Eat whatever you want, just stay and see you". This with the food was downright cheeky on our part, but after all the shame and exposure, so what...
I returned to the group, who had meanwhile moved in with the others who were going to be sitting down in the garden anyway. There were other guests in the hotel. As I walked towards ours, I looked at the other guests, listened to their conversations. I figured they rather didn't know about our midnight performances. No one looked at me, they didn't look at our group either, there were no sidelong glances and whispers behind the back. I breathed a sigh of relief. After the initial shock, he started to beat me to hysterical laughter. The boys with bags of food and wine were already tapping nervously. When I told them that we were not just denied, but actually forbidden by "presidential decree", they, initially not understanding what was going on, started to raise their voices. "Shhhhhh"! I shout to them, "Don't be stupid"! Everyone stared at me, waiting for me to explain the reason for the mysterious ban.
There was a dead silence. My companions were shocked. Outraged. Embarrassed. And worried. Naturally, these were mayors of villages, municipal councilors, people in power, representatives of their municipality and their country, whose authority was collapsing before their very eyes. Because of the aliens, who couldn't wait until we got home with their attack. We sat at the tables in the garden with hanging noses. The mood had gone to the cinema. At one point, those who didn't, or rather were lucky enough not to participate in the midnight ghost fight, snapped out of their trance and started asking questions. But how, what, who... All in all, all night long, each of us, the "vampire killers", told the story from our point of view, we complemented each other, corrected each other... we found the strength to laugh. And in typical human fashion, we finally started looking for the culprit. At first we all unanimously decided that it was She, the translator. But later we excused her because of her illness. Then came the question of who hired her and did they know she had mental issues. The culprit on all charges turned out to be our municipal mayor. We got together. After verbal teasing threats in the style of "Maleee, gle'y sya k'vo go go chaka", we unanimously decided that he should definitely be made aware of the shame and disgrace that we have plastered on the name of the municipality. This highest honor fell to the chairman of the municipal council - again a unanimous decision.
There was nothing interesting in the following days. Between work we visited several small towns, enjoying that typical cozy beauty of small, neat Italian streets, eating local chocolate and delicacies and we were ready to go home, slightly tired from all the emotions experienced. Still, it's tiring to shake aliens with improvised means. We never saw the manager of the hotel again. There was no need to blush and sweat again and again.
We got home. After about two weeks, someone from the group called me that we were going to have a gathering at a villa. The goal - analysis of recent events. We had a great time. Over and over we retold the story of saving the planet, recalling the reaction of our hotelier and bursting into laughter mixed with pity for our poor host. The man had isolated his family before sunrise out of fear! After all this madness, we heard that a few days after we got home, K., the one who was cursed with boils, had the roof of his house on fire. Probably a coincidence, but he's convinced the curse has caught up with him. Thank God with only material damage.
© 2024 Iliana Dechkova