One of my long-standing
clients used to employ an International Director stationed here in the
U.S. That gentleman has since been
relocated back to France, but I remember distinctly his passionate first
reflections on his ex-pat experience. He
was so inspired that he sought me out, as the interpreter to his company, to
propose a potential co-authorship of a book on French – American cultural
differences.
I’m sure he was thinking
we were going to break new ground. I
quickly lent him a few of the books from my shelf: Paris
to the Moon, by Adam Gopnik; French or Foe? by Polly Platt. One of my favorites is Français & Américains, L’autre rive by Pascal Baudry. And then there is the long-time standard, that
has been around so long (1988) that it is now somewhat outdated [See Chapter
Six: The Telephone]: Cultural
Misunderstandings, The French-American Experience, by Raymonde
Carroll. I so love the title of this
work in its original French: Évidences invisibles. The obvious that is imperceptible.
My intention was not to
discourage my French friend, but operate instead on the idea that we had to
build on what was already published.
Unfortunately, our project never materialized.
However, I live that same
inspiration through my work, in tiny, perhaps insignificant moments of finding
the right word in an interpretation, and watching the light of comprehension
spark in the eyes of the two parties for whom I serve as a linguist bridge.
Any explanation of the joy
and adrenaline rush from finding the ideal
translation of an expression, in the blink of any eye during simultaneous
interpretation, is incomprehensible to anyone who hasn’t interpreted. The brain is firing away on all
synapses. The heart is beating
faster. But if the job is done right,
the audience doesn’t even know that small works of art are happening. Because, if the interpretation is elegant and
correct, the interpreter appropriately fades into the background of the ideas
being exchanged.
This afternoon, I took a
break from my computer to watch the press conference with Donald Trump and
Justin Trudeau. I watched as the press
and government officials filed in to the room and I saw the familiar
interpretation equipment on each chair:
a receiver and a head set. My
heart immediately went out to the professional in the interpretation
booth. This was a big meeting. Two heads of government sharing a common
border yet politically opposed on so many fronts.
Mr. Trudeau gave his
speech and answered questions from the press in both French and English.
Mr. Trump only attempted
to listen to the interpretation through his earpiece. He raised it to his ear, lowered it, and
eventually gave up.
Some interpreters were
denied entry to the U.S. following the Trump administration’s executive order
on travel from several countries. It was
interesting to me that the press chose to focus on some of them as notable victims
of the order. I’m sure there were
doctors or other professionals who were blocked from entry into the U.S., but I
watched a report on an Afghan interpreter whose life was in danger in the
homeland he was fleeing, for having assisted our military. In a time when cultural differences are
tearing nations apart, it is encouraging to see interpreters recognized.
Interpreting is a difficult
profession. I haven’t had my life
endangered by my job, but I do want to make a plea for the respect of the invaluable
services my colleagues provide.
Here it is: LISTEN
to the interpreter! The person across
from you has a message. If you are not
bilingual, put on the headset or the earpiece.
Respect for the person’s
message begins with respect for the interpreter. You might just learn something.
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