Lost Art of Translation

A couple weeks ago I finished up the second issue of Terracotta Typewriter. This means that I'm now in the process of soliciting new submissions, which involves posting ads on writers' Web sites and the like. In response to one of these simple posts, I received the following e-mail:

Hi, are you looking for Chinese translator? I can help...

There are a few things that bother me about this short message. The first is that a translator that supposedly specializes in English to Chinese doesn't quite comprehend written English. The second is that their sales pitch is severely lacking--it certainly doesn't make me want to learn more about the company because they neglect to provide any information other than their Web address and e-mail. And third, they use a free Web-hosting service, weebly, for their "professional" company (and their site has plenty of mistakes on it to go with its boring design).

My guess is that this company just uses Google translation tools to get its work done.

Olympic Fighting Words

From the official Olympic Security English handbook comes a lesson on "Frighting." That is not a typo, they actually have two lessons for frighting. Oddly enough, the scenario appears to involve a fight and not a fright. In lesson 13 (pages 143-48), the scene is set up as an interrogation into the cause of a bar fight (there is no lesson on breaking up a fight or calming a situation that could lead to one). This is the lesson of "Frighting (1)" which I had to teach to the class of police. I had to alter it significantly so it would be useful for future reference.

Police: You've hit and injured another person, you know.
Foreigner: He's also hit and injured me.
Police: He's been injured very seriously and taken to the hospital.
Foreigner: It's unfair! Why are you only questioning me?
Police: We'll question him when he comes to.... How did you come to fight with him?
Foreigner: I couldn't bear his insult!
...
Police: Why did you fight with him this time?
Foreigner: Because he took too many liberties with my girl friend.
Police: Did you try to keep away from him?
Foreigner: Yes. At first, we kept away from him, but not very far.
Police: Why didn't you leave the bar?
Foreigner: Who could tell that he was so impudent? Not long afterwards, he came close to my girl friend and held her in his arms!
Police: Did your girl friend resist him?
Foreigner: Of course she did. She tried hard to push him away. But he was very rude to her. He even kissed her by force. What a rascal!
Police: Did you try to stop him?
Foreigner: Yes, I did. I tried to push him aside.
Police: Did you succeed?
Foreigner: No. On the contrary, he hit me in the face with his fist.
Police: Why didn't you call the police at once?
Foreigner: I was very angry. How could I stand such an insult? I hit him on the head with a bottle.
Police: As a result, you wounded his head.

The conversation continues with some boring details after this point. What I'd like to know is, who actually speaks like this? I told the class that no one would ever use the word rascal, but if they did find someone who said this they were to contact me immediately so I could meet this person.

Read part 1 and part 2 of this series.

Olympic Communication Part 2

Direct from the Olympic Security English textbook comes lesson 10: Interrogating People （pages 107-109). In this lesson, the police officer encounters a minor out at midnight. The youth is stereotypically rude to authority figures and rather unwilling to provide information when asked. They provide no reason to interrogate the juvenile other than it being so late. The beginning is quite dull, so we'll jump right into the middle of the conversation:

Police: You seem to have a bad temper. Is it because you quarreled with your parents and left home?
Minor: Leave me alone. I don't want to go home.
Police: Then come along with us to the police station.
Minor: No, I won't.
Police: We can't leave you alone here. Tell us your name, your home phone number.
Minor: How annoying! All right. My name is Helen. I live in Jian Guo Men Apartments for Aliens.
Police: Good! Now we'll take you home and leave you under your parents' care.

I really like the name of the apartment building. Apparently, the translator decided that 外交(wai jiao) is aliens rather than foreign affairs. I suppose this is what they think of the apartments that foreigners rent--they're really meant for extra-terrestrials. Or, it could just be another reason why so many people stare at the foreigners around here.

The other lessons on "How to Stop Illegal News Coverage" and "Frighting" are posted here and here.

Purple Monkey Dishwasher

Sometimes people don't listen, no matter how many times you repeat a very clear and simple request.

J. came back from his break back in the States. Of course, he doesn't have a place to live yet. But, he's working with another former co-worker near me, so I volunteered to help him hunt for an apartment (what a schmuck I am). I realized yesterday that Jia and I were extremely lucky when we found our home on the first day of searching. Apparently, getting what you want in this neighborhood is impossible. We had set limits of price and the request for a bathroom large enough for someone to take a shower while NOT having to sit on the toilet to do so.

We began our journey through the Dante's Inferno... er, Nanshan at around 11 am. We spent nearly four hours talking with various real estate agents (there are about 20 agencies within a 15-minute walk) with the help of my mother-in-law. The agents showed us two apartments in those four hours--both of them were terrible. The first one had a washing machine in the bathroom (and no other location for it) while the second one had a bathroom the size of my shower. Perhaps I should mention at this time that J. is not a small man. After the second viewing, the agent pointed to the building across the street from my home and said that it was very nice and in my friend's price range (Jia and I had seen an apartment in that building). I whipped out my Chinese at this point: "Tai xiao le! Waiguoren xi huan da ce suo." (It's too small. Foreigners like big bathrooms.) This point seemed lost forever.

In 11 hours of searching apartments, we saw a total of 5. Of those 5 apartments, only two were livable spaces and both were in the same building. The first of the two we were told was 2300/month. Unfortunately, it was unfurnished and the owner decided to raise the rent by 200/month because he saw foreigners. The second we were told was 2500 and furnished. It turned out to be 2800 and the owner refused to negotiate price with foreigners.

There was also the debacle of one agency making an appointment for us at 8 pm. This was the same one agency I told about how small the bathrooms were in that particular building. Guess where they took us--to an apartment that had a bathroom smaller than my shower, equipped with a child-sized toilet with a picture of Winnie the Pooh on it. At that point I was too tired to care and refused to talk further with those agents. Jia was with us at that time and started yelling at them in Chinese. I understood a bit of what she said (mostly things about bathroom size and them not listening to what J. wanted).

While having a few late beers, we spoke with J.'s future boss. Apparently, he has started looking for apartments near his school. He had a great idea--he typed up the demands for an apartment and passed it around to agencies with the note that they were to only contact him IF they found an exact match. Maybe we'll all have better luck today--I certainly don't want to walk around for another 11 hours in this heat.

On another topic: I must thank a couple friends for a lot of help with planning for the U.S. tourist visa application for Jia. I had lunch with them Thursday and got plenty of useful information--much better than what the consulate gave me last Monday.

Careful what you wish for

Yup, sure learned my lesson this week.
Two weeks ago I was reprimanded for a laundry list of complaints stemming from my dissatisfaction with administration and the ways in which they handle matters of education. I mentioned at the end of my probationary evaluation that I would be happier back teaching similar classes as last year. I was told this would probably not be possible. So, I went back to my teaching ways and was doing a bit better with my classes and avoiding administrative confrontations.
Friday rolled around and I had another meeting that was scheduled less than a day in advance. I was told that no, it was not possible to switch me back to my previous duties. But instead I would be placed in the oral English section for the rest of the term. "But I don't want that. I'd be happier where I am," was my response. Sorry, too late. Well, now I have fewer classes and I'm finished at noon everyday. As much as I don't want to teach oral English classes everyday, I think it may provide me with more time to write. And my lack of serious writing since September had been my sore spot and reason for lack of enthusiasm and happiness. I suppose if this new situation works out and write more, I may be persuaded into finishing my contract through July.
On another note to the situation, I was again the last to hear about this. My Chinese co-workers all knew about this at least five hours prior to my notice. Communication between Chinese employers and foreign staff is usually pretty bad all around (not just at my job). But for some reason I have always been the last to know, even out of the foreign teachers.