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.
part 1 - I open the door slightly to the world of translation woes
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.
And the river of absurdities flowed
In the central office of the DSK in Varna, the security guards us, because my Italian companion in a very wild and primal way presented his claims for justice. It is also because of him that we became famous at the Migration Service. There is not a bank in town where I am not recognized, called "the one with the Italians" and looked at with a mixture of sympathy and pity. Another client very persistently insisted that I explain to the officers of the Second District that he was in a psychiatric hospital and knew how to handle a weapon well, as well as a knife, because he was a surgeon.
part 3 - Balkan witches save the world from an alien invasion
Because of another client's son, I had a temporary permit to carry methadone. The man was a drug addict registered in a program in Italy and had to continue his treatment here. And because he was an unknown patient, for the first week I had to be in charge of transporting and storing the methadone. I won't go into detail about how responsible this was and how my husband almost buried me in the garden when he found out. But now I know where there are such programs, how they work, I talked to the psychiatrist about the topic because it was interesting to me - about prevention, symptoms... then I was a mother of teenagers and the topic excited me. Xia... my dear, the most beautiful, but still... to be prepared. I also work with children, with high school students (I teach them Italian). Again with the same person, I learned where and how HIV positive people are registered.
With another client, a Bulgarian, at the Romanian airport, security pounced on us, because he didn't want the zapardos in the nose of one of them. We flew to Bari. Just a misunderstanding, he had bent down after the inspection to fix his shoes and standing up, he waves his hand, the policeman behind him. Fras, oh and three twisted his arms. I'm after him, running, but two others are twisting my arms as well and yelling "Stand still"! I don't care, it's my boss" - I blurted out, not realizing what kind of trouble could open up for us. Thank God they understood and came out, in a word we got better, we apologized, we laughed at the end. On the way back, they dared to check me, except that they didn't strip me naked. I turned on my laptop, then my phone, they rummaged through my backpack... I got nervous and snapped: "That's enough, people! Do I look like a terrorist to you!?" And she grins at me and shouts - Yes. And rummaging through my luggage again. "For God's sake," I say, endlessly bored, "I'm a high school teacher (that's my other job - so I'm boring and safe). The only terrorism I use is on my students." They started laughing and let me pass.
part 5 - By ear, on paper or by ear - you translate according to the circumstances
© 2024 Iliana Dechkova