Charlie

Photographing Charlie the village parrot in a meditative moment @MaggieHongKong

This moment involved slow motion tip-toeing. This moment involved total silence.No “Hello, Hi”. This moment involved using what I got, my old phone with less great pixels. I thought he would not notice me. The moment I started to tip-toe back in order to grab my camera for a better photo, I have a feeling Charlie understood my intention. While he usually leaves a scene with a band and loads of sounds, he simply managed to vanish when I returned. It took only five seconds. There was nowhere to be found.

I have started to understand by now his messages, his code. There is a lot of noise if he needs attention and he sits on the tree right in front of my balcony. There are other types of bangs before a rain, is like a warning. “Watch out, watch out”. There is still the occasional “Hello, Hi” when he blesses us, the villagers leaving in the house, with his greetings. A message that he wants to play and he invites us to his scene. If he does not like my tone, he might just fly away. I do remember one day couple of years back, when all the neighbours got out on their porches and started calling him and “Hello-ing, Hi-ing” back. He literally listened for a while unperturbed and he would not budge. The entire chorus seemed perhaps like a circus to him.He flew away shortly. The trick is definitely not to get disappointed should you not speak his very language and fail at engagement more than you would imagine.

This encounter led me searching to the origin of the word “interpreter”. The brief description I have chosen for today is

It originates from the Latin word interpres, meaning an “ expounder,interpreter”. It is derived from inter(“between”) and pres(“before”), signifying someone who acts as a go-between to facilitate communication. The concept of interpretation, as a means of bridging language barriers,is ancient, with evidence found in Mesopotamia, Egypt, Persia, and the Indian subcontinent. (Info provided by Gemini.)

I have always loved foreign languages, I have always thought that languages serve as this profound connector between all cultures, with the words influencing and crossing borders, with mix families being born or adjusting to new villages, new neighbourhoods, cities and countries, making it to the indexed dictionary of the official language. I have always felt this thrill as a kid while watching foreign movies and noticing “they said “ciorba”! “. Same word with “ours” for “soup”, except the fact that the word might not have been “ours” to begin with. There was not something I would know. Of course, needless to say with all Romance languages, the more I listened the more I was in love. Buna ziua - Buon giorno - Bon jour. Same same and different. Different and same-same.

The more I understood and the more I understand in fact today, decades after all my studies, is that we never get to translate word for word. We interpret everything. We bring our emotions, we bring our preconceived ideas to the table, we bring our history when we are trying to “translate”something live. Even me translating something that my parents would say to a houseguest and a friend from another country than ours, I would twist sentence, I would add comments to justify, I would say “oh not , not this story” or other things. We simply cannot hold it and repeat word by word. I have sat with many translators at the table during some trade fairs and I would notice sometimes even the refusal to translate word by word as they would find our questions offensive.And it would be even possible. Yet, we did not know unless further explained.

I think for today I somehow wanted to bring to light some of my early memories in learning languages. Memories of utter failure or utter bliss. It is so easy to fail right and it scares you as well or it stops your motivation to continue. I think we have a common denominator right here and right now.

Snapshot number one:

• Riding a bus to visit a local school, with my colleagues to observe their teaching and student environment; we were foreign students in a foreign country; cold winter; crowded bus; we were packed like sardines.The ticketing system was very similar to our own, there was a punching sort of system and people would pass their tickets onwards and backwards to get that job done as the bus was so packed. One gentleman handed me a ticket suddenly too and said few words. I looked perplexed at him as I simply had no clue what he was saying. I was new to a lot of “spoken” language, I knew better the school manual that often had no connection to how to speak in a bus!. So, I said “No!” . I refused him. Next thing I knew is that he called me “Stupid!” He mumbled and fumbled until he found another person to punch hid ticket and he looked at me really bad (so I thought in my utter moment of failure). I did not consider him a gentleman anymore -that was the only conclusion I remember .And the word “stupid” which I knew from the movies. The entire day I have felt inadequate as I have felt in fact in many occasions as a student there. I have felt as a “Stupid student” for very long time and never enough in fact. I had since had many amazing experiences around the culture and the language and literature.Even if I do not master it any longer,I love my friends and I cherish all memories as a student or later as a visitor .

• Finding myself first time in a new foreign country, that I knew nothing about except a ton of preconceived ideas born from historical events in the Balkans. We seem to carry all these old memories sometimes that we did not even witness. I remember clearly sitting in front of the television and trying to make sense of their language, structure of the sentence.I was bought in instantly. There was not much that I knew about the language, and as it happens when we listen for the first time, we also believe that everyone talks way to fast. I just sat there for hours every day and I was mesmerised to break some secret code. I did find myself connected and I was eager to learn new words every day.

• I have learned languages in different ways, depending the circumstances. One of my colleague at work saw my interest in their language and luckily for me, she was also a big poetry lover and devouring books and literature. She has introduced me to authors whose language were not very complicated ,whose writing was smooth and flowing and yet their stories were very powerful. I got hooked into everything and I have started reading for the sake of learning the language.At times you can get caught up in a story. At times I would pull a dictionary and spend hours noting words. Sweet friends, we did not use the internet like now. It has been all paperwork books and materials. It was all material, you could smell the book ,you can see aging on the shelf and I was totally thrilled with each new author I have discovered. There are still some books that I did not understand in the original language. Especially when old idioms get mixed or they talk about different era in time. The fascination never ceased and it is the same. A part of me lives in that culture. Even if I am no longer there. Or visit.

• One last mini story. I love flying, getting on the plane and I love airports. This exchange, immersing in different cultures, this space connecting people, nations, cultures. I love going there earlier and just observing. I have this memory from Bangkok or Singapore airport where I have been waiting for my connecting flight to Europe. The seats were arranged like a little square, the “town square” ,a “piazetta” and everyone was chatting. I started to pick up words and understand them. I have started to watch the families getting ready for the flight, organising their last minute shopping, sorting our the kids’ toys and I just felt really an immense joy. I could relate to all these languages. I could still understand some Cantonese language. I did understand well of course Romanian (I assume we were all going same direction and this family became a reference point for me as we were on all connecting flights together). I did understand still Russian language even if I have not visited for ages, and yes, I could be still interested in all inflections in Turkish language as I still use it till the day. There were also Italian and French spoken but somehow, the “piazetta” in my area were more Balkan style. I felt at home. Before I have arrived home.

I hope you are enjoying a lovely Sunday and should you need an interpreter, remember we always have Charlie announcing the rains or blessing us with his famous “Hello,Hi”. That is undoubtedly in English. Well done Charlie. “Great student! “ .