It terrifies me to look at how long it’s been since I last posted!
Not that I haven’t been trying but it seems to me that every time I try to write or express something that has nothing to do with the translation requests, my mind freezes and my fingers stiffen up.
That certainly wasn’t always my case. I, who long advocated written documentation of any thoughts, ideas, and emotions and told people to write it when they can’t say it, finally found myself crippled with speechlessness.
So I took the opposite turn and headed for “if you can’t write it, say it”. And so I went on a journey of endless talkativeness. And so I talked, conversed, and verbally communicated challenging my old quiet nature for a period of no less than 365 days.
Oh, what a year 2011 has been. It was a year of enormous challenges on all fronts.
A difficult journey that began with a tough decision to make in my personal life and ended with acceptance of a new reality. But the in-between part was a lot of fun my dear, mostly in a tragic comedic sort of way, swapping between the lows and the highs, between utmost clarity and absolute doubt, between “what have I done” and “what else could I do”?
And to top it off, I had to turn 30 in 2011! And no, age is not just a number. Age is age. Period. And turning 30 is as bad as it sounds!:)
Yes 2011 took me down a rough road but it hasn’t been without good things happening, too.
Indeed, indeed this year was very generous to me with pleasant and interesting acquaintances from different (and many times quite scarily opposite) backgrounds, cultures, and philosophies, causing in me insights that I wouldn’t have gained in the usual company environment, and I thank them for their fruitful discussions and for trying to incorporate their reasoning into my belief system.
2011 was also very rewarding in business partnerships. The connections that DITTO Translation Agency has made last year led to great opportunities and valuable business deals that kept us up and running, and thank you for this!
I’m also thankful for Christina Al Hayek who joined us in 2011 and who proved to be a highly skilled and very reliable translator with also a great personality to work with.
Finally, I would like to thank my family and friends for all their help, love, and support throughout the year.
My promise to you this year is: You can take our word for it, this year too!
Happy 2012 and please enjoy this feel-good song A Beautiful Day by India Arie.:)
So you are one of the unfortunate ones who lost something. You lost your job. You lost a friend. You lost your partner. You lost money. You lost happiness. You lost enthusiasm. You lost your faith. Or it might be that you lost hope – the worst of all evils.
You’re at a crossroad and you don’t know what to do and which way to choose. You wish the road code can drive your way beyond your control with every traffic light change. Stop, Go, now you’d better Slow Down, and Stop! But the road is too busy guiding those who know where they are heading.
You walk around like you’re carrying a huge burden on your chest and your calamity has finally outgrown your ability to think wisely or act effectively. Nothing seems to help. You read the self help books, you followed the healthy diet, you took those walks, and you had those long talks with your people, but your mind remains as fuzzy as a blurred windshield and you can only see isolated statements – statements that are far from your true misfortune.
So it’s official now. You need help!
And I’m very happy to break this news to you. Help is obtainable. Salvation is reachable!:)
The key is to talk it all out and get things in writing.
Write down your whole story, your fears, your state of mind, your very private details, the chronology of every path you’ve taken, your failures, your mis-shots, your plots, your intentions, and your conclusions. Finally share them with someone who has been “in your shoes” and it will make all the difference in the world. Better write to a complete stranger who “has been there too” because with strangers, you won’t twist your story, you won’t rephrase your thoughts, you won’t overlook important details that you don’t even dare to admit to yourself. With these people, you have nothing to hide and nothing to lose from saying it all. These people who walked a mile in your shoes will give you access to their own experiences, dilemmas, and maybe a different way of looking at things. No, sharing with an in-your-shoes-walker won’t fill up your bank account, resurrect your loss, or erase all your issues from the face of earth. But if anything, you will be helped by just reading your own story, by taking that burden off your chest, by facing your own words and thoughts, true words and true thoughts. Then, you will be relieved and feel better. And when you feel good, chances are your thinking will be improved.
Now, how to find a stranger person who has walked a mile in your shoes, that I don’t know.:) I guess you either have to look for them or they just come along to make your day a more reasonably bearable one.
Until then, enjoy Crossroads by my dearest friends Eric Clapton and John Mayer.:)
Teacher’s day is not only a holiday celebrated in honor of the great people who dedicate their lives to educating our young citizens, but it’s also a long waited once a year opportunity for parents to say “I really appreciate what you’re doing. Please don’t give up on my child.“
And to show your sincere gratitude and appreciation, sometimes you need to back up your verbal statements of sympathy with something tangibly valuable just in case words would be hard to remember in times of crisis.
I’m not talking here about bribing teachers to do favors for our children or to allow failing children to move up to the next level. That would be completely unethical and equivalent to stealing!
I’m talking about the feeling we have as parents as we’re walking around the mall trying to figure out what gift we can offer our children’s teachers on their special day.
Seriously.
Some would think a flower should be enough. “After all, I’m always being complimented for my children’s behaviors. They’re at the top of their class, they’re calm, obedient, and simply adorable. Even the teacher told me she wishes she had a class full of them.”
Right, I can’t see why a flower wouldn’t work in their case.
Other parents would stop at a Hallmark store and pick up a nice card with a warm message sealed with a kiss from the child. How cute!
“Well I know my child is not always easy in class, but it’s the teacher’s job to ensure that the child is well disciplined. If I recall, that’s the reason why I’m sending them to school!”
And there is this category of parents – with which I’m very familiar – who could spend the whole day walking the mall checking out all shops with a confused look on their faces because they have no idea what kind of gift would be commensurate with the constant agitation of their child and indisputable complaints of educators. These parents usually end up in a jewelry store, that if they don’t decide to include teachers in their will!
I would give a kidney to teachers if I have to.
We all know our children. Some children are more manageable than others. Some are more energetic. Some are easier to work with. But the truth is all children come with challenges and individual needs, and long live the hero who’s doing this difficult job on a full time basis!
Happy Day to all teachers and may you continue filling in the areas in which we are failing in our trial-and-error parenting process.
And as non-student anymore, I would also like to thank all those people in my life who have been teaching me great things and made me less ignorant today.
And thanks to life, the greatest teacher of all times.
Finally, this is Another Brick in the Wall by Pink Floyd. Enjoy:)
So today after a long battle with deadlines, headlines, frontlines, flu-lines, adrenaline, phone lines, worry lines and almost flat lines, I finally found myself free and unfettered for the first time I could remember in months. Today it’s me-time and I’m planning on abusing it!
Leave the office and enjoy my time out wasn’t really an option because me-time had to coincide with the angry forces time!
So I decided to go online and listen to some of my favorite classics and beloved musicians. YouTube is the place to be!
It’s funny how even if I have my music collection at all times in my library, on my iPod and in my car, looking up music on the internet seems way more exciting and fresh!
The buffering process thrills me like a happy fish trapped in the net of pleasant torture and impatience and creates in me the same about-to-open-a-present emotion.
YouTube is the place for me! Or so I thought.
Busy as I’ve been, I’ve actually forgotten that downloading videos is not as pleasant as it seems, for thou who thinks that music is for all shalt be very disappointed.
Of course! How did I forget to check my limits? How could it slip my mind that the World Wide Web is not really as wide and wordly as far as Lebanon is concerned!
Aaaaanyway:)
Let’s not ruin my zen state and move to a warmer environment.
Always stuck in the office chair, I put on my headset and smiled as I was trying to sign in to Skype and catch up with friends and family.
I’m in! I got through! It’s happening! What a small world with the internet at your hands! What distance? I’m not feeling the bitterness of distance now that I can see them, hear them and watch them in action. They look perfect and my smile seems to get bigger and bigger…
Oh wait…
Where have I gone? Where’s the rest of me? Is that even me??
Hello? HELLO?
Of course! I got disconnected.
And now I’m all by myself once again, still stuck to my office chair and still determinant to squeeze out every last drop of joy of my day online.
Aaaanyway:)
I can still call them directly! It’s about time I took the Google Voice experience I’ve been reading about it on blogs, Twitter, Facebook…
BUT
Suprise, surprise!
OK! That’s it! I’m really fed up of feeling marginalized and alienated from progress and facilities for geographical considerations!
I’m developing my own application. And by the way, in the meantime, please stop forwarding to us new applications for Blackberry and iPhone because these are just NOT working over here. Instead please start using this new application of mine, for free.:)
Welcome to the New Generation Communication Technology: iExist
What is iExist?
iExist allows all users who have full access to the newest technologies to make expensive calls wherever they are. They can even send you SMS and pay for it.
How can they make expensive calls from iExist?
Simple. They need to call you directly from their phone without using any web or phone application.
What is my iExist phone number?
Your iExist phone number starts with +961 followed with 7 digits.
How do I make sure that I am not charged for iExist calls?
Don’t dial. Just answer.
Wow! This is fantastic. However, what if I need to disable this application for some reason?
No need. You have cheaped out enough. Stick to this application.
Enjoy my dear Lebanese this beautiful application designed specifically for your conditions and to feel even more special than you already are, this is We Are The Champions song by Queen just for you. Enjoy.:)
Yes, of course, it is the season to be jolly bla bla bla bla bla bla but it also seems to be the only month of the year that shakes us out of our comfort zone – or our self-hypnosis sleeping bag – and slaps us into the other side of all that could be . Indeed, the only month of the year when it is quite acceptable to look back at how we have come so far, and if so, at what are the other alternatives.
Maybe it’s just December cold blowing air that is making our spine tingle and body shiver in complex, emotional passages or maybe it’s the noisy ticking sound of the year-end clock that is driving us crazy – or driving us well – into riding the wind of change, but I know one thing for sure whatever the causes: when December swings by, we want to pause and think, we want to reflect and resolve. December, the month of resolutions and revolutions as we all seem to wake up on the “wrong or right” side of the bed and rise as decision-makers, individually and collectively.
But honestly, isn’t it funny how we people spend 335 days (yes, I did use a calculator) of the year comfortably living a routine life of daily minor choices, minor decisions, minor actions, for better or for worse, or, how at worst alone we can spend away the same amount of days, comfortably surrendering to the prevailing circumstances that we have once created, and just at the mention of December, we all suddenly have the Big Resolutions list ready!
I want to lose weight!
I want to quit smoking!
I want to join the gym!
I want to limit my expenses!
I want to become a better person! I want to become a millionaire!
I want to chop my boyfriend in 12 spare parts for remodeling purpose!
(Seriously, someone actually reported this last resolution and I keep forgetting to report her!)
Oh well, if that’s the fashion, if New Year’s resolutions list is the trend nowadays, why not go with it and make a resolutions list? Why not set a new target, turn an old page, start a new chapter, quit old habits and negative ways and start doing new good things. Why not revolutionize in December when we are very sure that all our pre-year-end decisions will survive the New Year’s Eve booze and witness execution in the same vigorous tone that dominated their initial making.
Or else, why wait for the calendar to proclaim December and get a fresh start? Why not sign up for change the minute we become aware that something hasn’t been right for a while? Why muting our inner bells that have been annoying us with unbearable, deafening noise to continue to stick to what others say simply because it sounds comforting, less painful, and “within the norms”? What’s wrong with listening to our voices in February or September? Why not sigh and speak up any day of the last 335 days?
Be it a mere matter of a New Year fashion statement or a deeply thought-out resolution that has taken some time to cook up, we need to remember that no season, month or date matters when it comes to positive decisions for our own good. Our whole life is waiting on us. Your life is waiting on you. Move!
Whatever 2011 brings, may it bring you clarity, happiness, grace and above all new challenges, don’t sit back and do nothing. As Harold Wilson once said, “He who rejects change is the architect of decay. The only human institution which rejects progress is the cemetery.”
Or you can take a page out of this kid’s book and take the year off from making any changes!
Either way, good luck and Happy New Year!:)
You finally found the woman of your dreams and you want the rest of your life to start with her as soon as possible. She gives you a warm, happy home. She makes you coffee just the way you like and let you have full power over the remote control. She never asks for much. She’s the one.
Then one day one is not enough anymore, and she asks.
She wants to become two. She needs you to make her two in one. So you start thinking of names. You are tempted to suggest the names of your old folks but something in that “Dangerous Hormonal Zone” sticky note on her forehead tells you you’d better create a name poll and share it with your friends.
Suddenly the rest of your life you have imagined narrowed down to a fulltime name brainstorming exercise. That’s all you talk about now. Names. Names. Names. James or Jennifer? Daniel or Denise? Steve or Stephanie? Larry or Lisa? Oh well, you’re just too excited, you can’t wait to hear your baby say Daddy!
Finally, on D-Day, the two-in-one separates into one of each. Congratulations, you have a boy! And you gave him a name – a unique identifier it took you days and nights to pick. Happy to find you, your baby looks at you and begs you to say it. “Say my name, baba. What’s my name, baba? Are you my baba, baba?” You look at him, smile and say, “Yes, I’m your baba, baba.”:)
Then suddenly knowing his name becomes the least of his concerns. Since his father called him “baba” (Lebanese Arabic translation of “daddy”) and since he has to start calling him baba as well, and since they will both be sharing a lifetime father-and-son dialogue full of babas, the baby knew that he was born to a Lebanese father and now he has many more things to worry about.:)
To all Lebanese fathers, please call us by our names, we’re confused enough.:)
Thank you. It is pretty much the first thing parents teach their children.
Say “thank you” when people do good things to you. Say “thank you” when your grandmother gives you candies. Say “thank you” even when you receive a bad gift. Always thank people for helping you out. Thank people for their kindness and support. Be thankful and grateful for all experiences and opportunities no matter how joyful or painful they may be.
And so we go on thanking anyway because we learned the simple lesson of politeness. We go on using it every day, whether in a friendly manner when talking to friends over the phone, in appreciating a blogger’s post, as a signature in your professional emails, and casually in everyday’s conversations, and it always feels good to say and hear it.
Then one day, you receive something. But this time, it’s neither a candy from your kind grandmother nor an expected gift on your traditional birthday event, and it surely doesn’t affect your bank account. You dig deep in your bag of grateful expressions filled by your parents and educators looking for the most exact expression, statement, line, or whatever alphabetical arrangement that would translate the contextual specificity of your feeling, but all that is in there is loose nonsense leaving you empty handed, and obviously speechless.
In overwhelmed times like these, when you tried your best to show your gratitude and thorough thankfulness in all ways you know but you still have the urge to repeat it, confirm it, and shout it until your throat starts to get soar, here are my 33 ways to thank you:)
- 1. No one can handle a candle to you.
- 2. I’m thankful in every way imaginable!
- 3. I hope you know how much I appreciate you!
- 4. I applaud you.
- 5. You’re a winner!
- 6. I’m truly grateful!
- 7. Phenomenal!
- 8. Outstanding!
- 9. Remarkable!
- 10. Awesome!
- 11. Superbe!
- 12. A +
- 13. Hurray for you!
- 14. High five!
- 15. Kudos
- 16. Way to go!
- 17. You’re the best!
- 18. You’re incredible!
- 19. You’re unstoppable!
- 20. Right on!
- 21. A-ok!
- 22. Dynamite!!
- 23. Amazing!
- 24. Fantastic!
- 25. You’re a treasure!
- 26. You rock!
- 27. You’re on top of things!
- 28. Sensational!
- 29. You’re super!
- 30. Bingo!
- 31. You make things much easier!
- 32. You’re spectacular!
- 33. and finally, WOW!
And there’s always the 34th French way of saying it, “merci!”:)
Once upon our time there dwelt a people in a Middle East city called Beirut. (Also famous as the City of historical SKYBAR, in case you’re confused.)
Their name was the Lebanese, as a group.
At the individual level, some were named à la Française with the letter “r” pronounced à la Libanaise, some carried cool American names catastrophically pronounced by their grandparents, some filed lawsuits to have their Arab names changed into Phoenician names, and the rest are happily carrying their Arab names within the borders of Arab countries.
Rumor has it the Lebanese are born with a dictionary in their mouth.
Sort of a Godsend to a people who will be born in Beirut delivery rooms, where the identity crisis begins.
So the story goes that once upon our time a special baby was going to fall off the baby tree, a different kind of baby who could hear and see from the first cry.
Date: Day One
Time: 10 minutes to birth
Location: Delivery room in Beirut
“Push. Push. Push. Ok, relax now. Again, breathe down into your bottom and push,” the Lebanese obstetrician urged the aching mother.
Thrilled at the possibility that this language could be the first evidence of a western identity, the baby gets ready to slip out of the womb. “My life is going to easier than that of 2.8 billion people! “ The baby cheers up.” I will have fast internet connection. I will benefit from lower calling rates. I will not have to stand in line for hours to apply for a visa. What else would anyone want? I’m out to see the world! “
Date: Day One
Time: 0:03 hour
Location: Delivery room in Beirut
“Smallah, bijanin ya Madame, alf mabrouk!” (Elaborated Lebanese expression for “congratulations”)
There comes the Lebanese nurse and holds up the baby behind a glass partition for the family and grandparents to ogle over. And there the first seed of confusion was planted.
“Excuse me, what was that language she just spoke? But I thought….oh well…I can always turn to mommy for reassurance and truth.” Baby sighed.
But that baby’s mommy was no different than the other Lebanese moms who grew up speaking French and decided to pass that language onto their children because “once you know French, it is easy to pick up another language.”
“Viens te perdre dans mes bras mon amour !” Et voilà! There goes the Frenchy mommy!
Date: Day One
Time: Birth past 15 minutes
Location: Waiting Babel Room
To the joy of about 10 friends, 1,265,326 relatives, Teta and Jeddo (the grandparents) and 5 house servants, baby finally makes his first appearance with the look of confusion planted on the face still to an audience speaking Arabic, English, French, Filipino, and Sinhalese languages.
Date: Day Two
Time: The Hour of Awakening
Location: Beirut
After a long day of bewilderment about the self-identity (or its absence), the Lebanese baby started to realize that the use of languages in Beirut extends beyond a means for merely communicating and expressing ideas.
Mixing different languages in one sentence has indeed become a Lebanese lifestyle – the Lebanese identity.
This whole language mixture and the purpose of its use made me think the other day when I was in a nail shop in Beirut rife with sophisticated Lebanese women.
Some woman walks in and addresses one of the employees to check her appointment. She talked to her in the Arabic language with the pure Lebanese accent and dialect. Then she turns around and runs into another female acquaintance that was getting a manicure treatment. A long conversation takes place and, by the sound of it, (I didn’t need to eavesdrop to hear them, they were loud and liked it that way!) I got the impression I was in the center of the Champs-Elysées. Then that other woman stops the conversation to address the employee in the same Lebanese dialect that the first woman seemed to speak fluently. Then the two ladies resumed their conversation, and this when we fly back to Paris.
And it made me think. Did they have to speak Arabic to the employees out of an assumption that it is unlikely that this category of workers would have been brought up speaking foreign languages and consequently considered them outcast in the Lebanese system? Did they have to communicate friendly with one another in French because they do belong in the same social class? Are languages deemed a sign of class and snob?
This language system is sometimes laughed off as a sort of “artificiality” implying a sense of superiority. Other times, this same system induces admiration and respect in those who contemplate it seeking admission within its ranks.
Whether it comes naturally or artificially, whether it is inherited or simulated, I believe the language system in Beirut gives the city a charm like no other and distinctively sets it apart.
We mix and we don’t really need a fix, but if you can figure out what our problem is I’d be interested to know.:)
If you want to learn more about Lebanon and the Lebanese people, I think no better posts will give you a genuine illustration of the situation in Lebanon than those of Maya Zankoul. http://mayazankoul.com/
“A deadline is negative inspiration. Still, it’s better than no inspiration at all.” ~ Rita Mae Brown
The first time I met the deadline dates back to early 2003.
I was running late for work when I received a phone call from my first client (may all good things come to him) offering me a tempting amount of money to walk away with in return for spending two sleepless nights on some urgent translation.
I had to pull over to give it some thought.
Continue driving to work and honor those little translation duties that bored the heck out of me or call in sick and start heading to where the thrill and challenge might start to originate.
That day my conscience was on holiday, and the rest is details.
And I met the deadline, and then another one, and another one, and another one.
One thousand and one sleepless nights on words, they made me happy. And I kept coming back for more. More words, more translation, more challenges, more deadlines.
Then time would elapse and I would start to feel tired as my fighting system would start to fade. I should take a break and slow down.
I should decline a deadline and finally make that long-promised visit and spare my family that same old “Sorry she couldn’t make it, she has a deadline” justification in an attempt to ingrain in their community a sense of respect towards my constant absence.
Yes, I should slow things down and mingle around. After all if I’m working hard to afford luxury, I’d better be out and show it off!
Then time would elapse. And I start missing deadlines again. Probably it has become an addiction for me. The pressure, the stress, the bustle, the rush, and the push of life would make feel alive and break me out of my routine schedule. I’m on a constant deadline and I’m surviving happily.
What about you? You’re a translator too. I see you won’t be on a mission to the moon anytime soon. And most probably you won’t be working to see your designs finally materialized in beautiful sky-scrappers. Oh, and I’m sorry to break the news to you, but Frank Sinatra reaffirmed his intention not to be reincarnated in you.
So you’re doomed, buddy. You studied translation and all that is left for you is your laptop and dictionaries.
And yet there’s always a way to add variety and fun to your job. You want the thrill? Get on a deadline!:)
Deadlines will make you a better person, a happy worker. Through deadlines, you will learn how to think, analyze, and translate faster. Instead of embarking on a quiet, dreamy journey of wonder and hesitation contemplating the ceiling for hours looking for a muse to beat you over the head or a miracle to happen on your document, just wake up and get your mind trained on staying alert and focused. Why? Because you’re running out of time. Because miracles happen to those who pray, but we don’t have time for prayers now. Why? Because we have a deadline.:)
Deadlines user manual coming soon! Make sure you come back to check it out.:)
If it’s a crime to twist and misunderstand, you’ve got a life sentence!
And I don’t really care whether you ended up in the translation profession because your mama thought it would be prestigious to brag about your languages to your aunties on Sunday’s family lunch or because it took you eighteen years to realize that Isaac Newton was not another comic character in Asterix and Obelix.
Whatever the twist of fate that dictated your career path, you’ve become what you’ve become, and now that you’re aboard you’d better assume full responsibility for the title you got yourself or there’s always another ship to commandeer.
But if you wish to continue pleasing your mama and you’re willing to steer to the professional shore, you need to agree to live by the following 5 commandments:
1.Thou shalt understand the difference between a writer and a translator.
Writers are fully entitled to express themselves the way they feel regardless what their audience feels or thinks.
Translators are bound to understand what the writer meant.
“Oh but I thought the writer meant this or that” won’t give good results. You misunderstood the meaning; you’re guilty as charged! Don’t think so, know so!
2. Thou shalt get over your teachers at the translation schools.
With all due respect to the teachers who tried their best, you might have been taught wrong. School days are gone with your daddy’s pocket money. You’re a professional now, you might as well earn it. Do your own research and find your own proof!
3. Thou shalt revisit your long-inculcated understanding of some concepts.
What you once translated and passed without opposition does not necessarily mean that the translation was always the correct answer. Don’t just choose the easiest way relying on past information. Don’t apply the first thing that comes to your mind.
Be your own judge and repeat the trial.
4.Thou shalt not twist the meaning to camouflage your failure to understand.
You just couldn’t understand and then you gave up. But there are still blanks that need to be filled, so you blablabla using vague words hoping to get away with it. Nothing goes unnoticed. That vaguely translated word was paid for. How would you feel if you go home and find out that the designer shirt that cost you a fortune missed a button?
5. Thou shalt put your I-know-it-all attitude aside and ask for clarification when needed.
Don’t be ashamed to ask. You’re not supposed to have a PhD in law, medicine, IT, and finance. When you’re in a doubt, ask.
Rejoice! You have just completed the Pilgrimage of the Five Translation Commandments and your old misunderstanding sins are now washed away. Stay on track.
