The Constantly Changing Salad

Living alone, planning meals economically has become a bit more of a challenge. Although not being dependent on the likes and dislikes of others does help, there’s the risk of having to use relatively expensive small tins, jars, etc. After all, you can’t always buy every single ingredient fresh – and even if you can, you can’t always determine yourself how much you buy: the days of buying spinach by the leaf, single potatoes, etc., are mostly over.

So I often make my meals with bigger packages, and make enough for several days. It does sometimes mean that I’m eating the same thing for more than one day, but I really don’t mind that. Besides, I don’t cook anything I don’t like, so eating the same good meal for several days really isn’t a problem.

But if there is any risk of getting bored with the meals at all, my Constantly Changing Salad is the ideal solution. Do you want the recipe to see what I mean? You can’t, because it’s constantly changing! But I can give you an example.

The day before yesterday I started a salad with half a pack of wholemeal fusilli, sweetcorn, cherry tomatoes, ham, pineapple and tartare sauce. Simple, but nice. Far too much for one day, though, so I decided to make it last for several days. And in order to not eat exactly the same salad every day, I then add some additional ingredients on subsequent days. So yesterday I added hard-boiled eggs, peas and a little yoghurt mayo. Better, but it lacked crunch and punch. So today I added rocket, extra mature Gouda cheese and some kidney beans. I’m not sure if I’ll add anything tomorrow – after all, I do have to finish the salad one day soon, and by finish I don’t just mean considering the combination complete…

I rather like the idea that I’m having cheap meals all week this way, and that although they’re fundamentally the same, they’re also quite diverse!

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Confusing Networking

In this day and age we use cyberspace for so many purposes. The World Wide Web is not just the biggest source of information you can imagine. It offers much more than that. We order things online. We send and receive e-mail. We make webcam calls and participate in video conferences. We listen to internet radio stations.

And last year I added another aspect to my social and professional life by joining networking sites. Professional online networking hasn’t really been a necessity for me so far, so to be honest I haven’t really put that much effort into it yet. I’ve started doing it, but with restraint, so to say.

But social networking took off a lot faster for me. As soon as I discovered that it’s a good way to find and keep in touch with old friends and acquaintances, I was sold on the concept. The invitation to Facebook came from an old friend in another country, and I thought it was a good idea. One doesn’t easily drop by in person, living across the border somewhere, so online is THE place to do one’s socialising in such a case.

I soon found droves of hobby friends, relatives and old acquaintances. It’s funny how adding friends to your list on a social networking site can have a snowball effect. It’s nice to share bits of information with everyone. You can get all kinds of reactions, and quite often people make me laugh – something I really needed at the time, but who doesn’t need that now and then, right?

But social networking can be very confusing. Although it’s nice to be able to look at pieces of people’s lives, you can see things you don’t understand. Take long-lost aquaintances, for instance. You may have found them on the Internet, but that doesn’t mean that you’re automatically up-to-date with their lives. After all, what they post is usually from the current phase of their lives, and their profiles don’t give you a full personal history.

So when someone you haven’t seen for many years says: “The baby woke us up early today”, you may think: “Baby? What baby?” Other people on the person’s friends list respond to the post and you’re beginning to suspect that they know something you don’t.

Someone you added to your friend list because you share the same hobby, may say “I finished my woodworking project today”, and you think “Woodworking? You mean to say that there are other hobbies out there besides photography? And that you practice one?” Makes you think, doesn’t it.

Or a very old acquaintance you haven’t seen in almost thirty years says he wishes he was back in his own country so he could enjoy the kind of breakfast he was used to, and you think: ”Eh? What is he doing in another country? How did he get there? When? Why?” The info he gives on the Net gives you more questions than answers.

You get friend requests from people that make you wonder how they came to feel that you qualified as a friend. People you have never met, for instance. The other day I got a friend request from someone who has exactly the same name (first and last) as my son. Although the name does look familiar, as it would, obviously, I really don’t know him. Why would I want him on my friends list? It would only be confusing.

Even some of the relatives on my list make me wonder about their posts. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t really know much about the kind of life many of them currently lead. I see them discussing things that I don’t know anything about, and that in many cases make me wonder if I should have known about it.

The snippets of information people post about their lives can be rather confusing, sometimes.

Oh well, I suppose you can’t expect them to tell you their life story to get you up to speed first so that at least you will have some idea as to what they’re on about.

But confusing or not, I do like this social networking somehow. It’s not the most essential addition to my life, but definitely a nice one. I am interested in the people I know, so it’s good to see what they’re up to. And I have found that if you’re having a hard time with something in your life, there’s always someone around to make an encouraging remark. Often not more than a single sentence, but it can be helpful nevertheless. I like to use social networking to make me feel good, and it works. It does mean I have to block or remove the negative ones from my list to achieve that, but I suppose it’s not just farmers who have to separate the chaff from the wheat…

Bloody Geniuses!

Simultaneous interpreters are funny creatures. I always say that we must have some kind of strange twist in our brains, because how else would we be able to do our highly complicated and stressful job?

It’s an extremely intense activity, simultaneous interpreting. It has been calculated that you use more processes simultaneously in your brain than people in almost any other profession – although it has been said that air traffic controllers use nearly the same number of brain processes. (Ironic, then, that they make so much more money than interpreters, but I suppose that’s beside the point.)

When you’re interpreting simultaneously, you’re listening to the speaker, processing the meaning of what he says, converting it to another language, and speaking the translation while listening to the next thing the speaker says, and all of this in a continuous cycle.

It means that you’re doing so many things at the same time – constantly listening, translating, speaking, and making split-second decisions about language, sentence structure, meaning and more – that your brain is working at the very highest level of concentration, and you are using all of your physical and mental faculties to make the process work. Small wonder, then, that conference interpreters work in pairs, taking shifts of about thirty minutes. After half an hour their concentration is significantly diminished, their mental (and often physical) energy depleted, and they need a break from what they are doing. So then their colleague takes over for the next shift, and after another half hour they switch back again. This gives each interpreter enough time to re-charge the mental batteries and take his alertness back up to the highest level needed for his taxing job. And it is taxing indeed.

But ever since the very first time I was asked to interpret – which was long before I had my official training, got certified, etc. – I enjoyed the adrenalin that came with the job: the rush of doing something extremely intense with my language skills and brain capacity. Especially the more difficult assignments can be very satisfying.

Mind you, a little humility is needed when you’re an interpreter. As a translator, you can get a translation complete and perfect quite easily – if you’re good. But even the best interpreters don’t get their translations 100% complete and perfect – well, hardly ever. If you ever hear a conference interpreter claim that he worked all day and got everything 100% correct and complete, he’s either a big liar, or he just interpreted for the only series of speakers on earth who are not only relatively slow, but also perfectly understandable, don’t speak in any dialect, don’t swallow any words or syllables, don’t use any unexpected terminology, don’t slur, always articulate clearly, etc., etc. Or he had the complete text in advance and the speakers didn’t deviate from the text once.

Every single interpreter, even the very best, will slip up here and there – whether it’s mishearing something, not hearing something, forgetting something or simply not being able to come up with the right word at the right time, every working day of their lives there will be something that goes wrong. Even the best interpretations are about 99% right. But it’s not about the 1 percent they miss, it’s about getting that 99 percent right. It’s not a very exact science, interpreting: so much depends on so many circumstances and so many human factors on both sides.

There is something really special about matching the speed, voice intonation, emphasis, terminology and meaning of a speaker, especially if it is such a challenge that at times you don’t know where you’re getting the words from, possibly not just finding them in your brain, but pulling them up from your toes, in a manner of speaking. You feel the adrenalin rushing through your body, you’re almost in some kind of trance, and you feel as one with the speaker.

Imagine interpreting simultaneously for a highly educated speaker like a celebrated scholar who is trying to tell an audience about his life work in only ninety minutes, with a torrent of words coming out of his mouth at a speed that makes it clear that he’s determined to get all the information in, despite the limited time – and without ever having seen his speech or his powerpoint presentation you and your colleague manage to keep up with him, interpret his words with the right meaning, not missing anything significant, matching his intonation and emphasis. Believe me, there is nothing more satisfying than achieving that, switching off your microphone, and hearing your colleague – still completely hyped up – exclaiming:

We’re bloody geniuses!

You couldn’t have said it better yourself…

Pedantic or Professional?

As a language professional, I often find it difficult to separate my work from my private life. As a dedicated interpreter and translator who is constantly striving to perfect his own use of language, and who is often called upon to correct his colleagues’ translations (we all make mistakes, after all), I have difficulty not doing this in my private life.

I know that it’s usually better to bite my tongue when someone makes a linguistic mistake which I could correct with just a few words. But sometimes I come across situations where the mistakes other people make clearly lead to confusion. After all, a difference of only one or two letters, one poorly chosen word, or even a single comma or apostrophy too much or too little, can make a huge difference in meaning. And, helpful little person that I am, I like to try to help.

Trouble is that not everyone appreciates that help. Sometimes it’s not even recognised as such. It’s regarded as criticism. Or worse. I have been accused of being pedantic.

And it made me wonder. Is giving of my professional knowledge to help out in a confusing situation so sensitive since it’s all about language, and we all use language? Whereas this is not the case with many other professional fields, and we more readily accept other people’s input in those fields?

It reminded me of an incident from some time ago. A lady at the front of a line at a counter in a chemist’s was enquiring about cough sirups. She was about to choose one that the sales person recommended, when someone behind her recommended a different one. He added that he was a doctor (in other words, he knew what he was talking about). Both the sales person behind the counter and the customer were happy with the professional’s input and the lady heeded his advice.

It’s probably not a perfect comparison, but I wonder if it’s easier to more readily accept a doctor’s input because his is not a field that we feel we are too familiar with, whereas we have all used language all our lives and treat input in that field as criticism and take it personally.

To be honest, I’m not really sure what it is, but it’s becoming increasingly clear to me that not only should I bite my tongue in these situations, but when on the Internet I should also restrain my fingers and keep them from typing when I see confusing linguistic errors. Apparently people would rather make those mistakes uncorrected. Well, I’ll try to let them. Hopefully that’ll be seen to be more helpful.

Delightfully Still

The waiter carefully places the bottle on our table, omitting to ask if the vintage is acceptable. He doesn´t even bother to open the bottle, let the contents be sampled, or otherwise invite any expression of approval or disapproval. He doesn´t have to, for he knows he has made an excellent choice.

The setting is not a dinner table at a restaurant. The waiter is not a waiter. The bottle is not a wine bottle. And I am not taking anyone out today. I am an interpreter in an interpreters’ booth. The waiter is my fellow interpreter. And the bottle is a container for mineral water. It just so happens that my colleague´s suit and tie, the way he holds the bottle, and the posh label remind me of a restaurant setting. But other than that, there is hardly any comparison with a restaurant situation. In fact, the text on the bottle reminds me of something completely different than a dinner. The manufacturer (if you can use that word at all for a company that pumps water from springs and puts it in bottles), Hildon, used an interesting description for the kind of water they put in this particular bottle. In elegant lettering the label reads: DELIGHTFULLY STILL.

That struck me as unusual. You see all kinds of descriptions, usually in one word – still, sparkling, fizzy, carbonated. But delightfully still was new to me. It made me think. There is something about the word still that is attractive all by itself. It reminds one of peace and quiet, silence, softness. But the word delightfully adds a whole new dimension to it. Instead of still being just the opposite of carbonated, with the word delightfully in front of it, it suddenly becomes a suggestion that instead of leaving something out, you are getting something extra. Like the chance to enjoy, to take pleasure in the stillness of this spring water from England.

Apparently stillness really is something we can relish. Not just in water, but in many things. Still waters are safer than rough seas. Still tongues make wise heads. Stillness is soothing, calming, pacifying. I suppose we all need some stillness now and then. Some peace, some being away from the rat race of life. Some quiet pause amid the noise pollution of modern society.

And heaven knows we need things to be delightfully still. There is simply too much noise, too much hustle and bustle. Modern life asks ever more of us. We need to do more, be away more, travel more, be available more – yes, even day and night, it seems. Has anyone ever said to you: Why didn´t you have your mobile phone on? Sounds familiar, doesn´t it? You are expected to be available at all times, to jump to attention whenever or wherever horrible, simplified electronic renderings of familiar tunes and melodies rudely interrupt you in whatever activity it was you were engaged in. In my own country I´ve heard people complaining that you cannot really go anywhere without hearing traffic. But nowadays you can even hardly go anywhere anymore without hearing people making phonecalls. A whole new kind of noise pollution!

No, really, it may just be a bottle label, but “Delightfully Still” really appeals to me. I like it a lot. And, although I don´t think it motivates me to just drink Hildon spring water from now on, I do mean to find more things in life that are just as delightfully still.

Flying and Landing

I love flying. Not as a pilot. I’m just a passenger – an economy passenger – but I love to fly.

I’ve got quite addicted to take-offs, landings, and great views from on high. And it’s the most fun when someone else is paying for it, of course. That only adds to the feeling that I can count myself lucky whenever I fly. Doesn’t always work, though. I have to pay for my own holiday flights, obviously. But sometimes I can fly for my work, and I enjoy those trips even more. Flying and being paid to do so is great!

But there are disadvantages, too. There always are. Every advantage has a disadvantage, or so they say. (Who’s “they”? I haven’t a clue. But it’s what “they” say, so I just quote my source as being “they”.)

Take jet-lag, for instance. Not so bad when you’re going west and gaining time, but it can be very tiring to go east. It always robs me of my general feeling of well-being, and gives me that rare zombie-like quality that I only get when I’ve been deprived of a lot of sleep, or when I’ve been flying east for thousands of miles. Or both, which is worse. A lot worse.

Anyway, one time I took a long trip by air, I discovered a whole new way to fly. I’d already left the plane and the airport. (So it’s not what you may think.) I had checked into my hotel in Salt Lake City, and was having a walk in the pleasant evening air. Of course, I was jet-lagged and tired. But that didn’t stop me from having a brisk walk – a very brisk walk. In fact, I was going at quite a pace. And then my foot had a disagreement with an uneven section of the concrete pavement (“sidewalk”, if we’re going to get this geographically and culturally correct – after all, I was in the United States at the time). Since I was walking fast, this sent me … flying. I have no other word for it. But it wasn’t the flying that was the problem. It was the landing. Since, contrary to airplanes – which have landing gear and all that – I had nothing to roll along the pavement with (the sidewalk, sorry – I keep reverting back to the Queen’s English, old habits die hard), I landed on the concrete with a big thud, and then, due to my speed, slid on for a distance.

You will understand that this is not a very healthy thing to do. It didn’t really help the condition of my trousers (or pants, if you will), nor did it much good for my leg and knee. Big, deep wound – and very dirty. Now, I have relatives in that city. In-laws, to be precise. Not that this difference matters to me. Family is family … But, anyway, my brother-in-law had some kind of prickly fluid that cleaned out my wound quite nicely, and even removed dead skin cells in the process. But a day and an x-ray later I was walking with a walking-stick (okay, a cane – I was going to stay with the local lingo, right?). Not a nice way to see Salt Lake City, I can tell you that! I had had plans to rent a car and see the state on my weekends off (they can make me work over there, but they can’t take away my weekends off!), but my leg just wouldn’t cooperate. I spent more time in my hotel room than I had planned. But I saw a lot of Law & Order re-runs – I suppose one has to see the advantages to everything. And on my flight back I got a lot of consideration from the flight attendants (does anyone know what happened to that good old term “stewardesses”?) and other passengers – it does help when you walk in, looking like a cripple!

Anyway, what’s my point? Good question. Should there be a point to a blog?

Well, I suppose I could argue that there are different ways of flying and landing, and that one is more pleasant than the other. Yes. Sounds good. Let’s stick to that conclusion.

So if you’re flying – be careful how you land! And have a good flight…