Member since Jun '08
Working languages:Spanish to English
English (monolingual)
|  thestylebar
New South Wales, / Native in: English  |  Contact:  
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| | Freelancer,  Verified member | | | Translation, Editing/proofreading, Transcription |  | | Specializes in: | | Textiles / Clothing / Fashion | Retail | | Business/Commerce (general) | Cosmetics, Beauty | | Marketing / Market Research | Other | | Journalism | Music |
| Also works in: | | Finance (general) | Advertising / Public Relations | | Religion | Science (general) | | Media / Multimedia | Internet, e-Commerce | | Law (general) | Tourism & Travel | | Poetry & Literature | Computers (general) | | Economics |
| | | Spanish to English - Rates: 0.08 - 0.15 USD per word / 16 - 30 USD per hour
English - Rates: 0.08 - 0.15 USD per word / 40 - 60 USD per hour
| | | Questions answered: 0, Questions asked: 0 Easy / 0 PRO | | | Sample translations submitted: 1| Spanish to English: Literature | Source text - Spanish
Bajé el sonido de la televisión con el mando antes de ponerla en funcionamiento, y, como yo quería, apareció la imagen sin voz y ella no se dio cuenta, aunque aumentó la luz de la habitación al instante. En la pantalla estaba Fred MacMurray con subtítulos, una película antigua por la noche tarde. Di un repaso a los canales y volví a MacMurray en blanco y negro, a su cara poco inteligente. Y fue entonces cuando ya no pude evitar pararme a pensar, aunque nadie piensa nunca demasiado ni en el orden en que los pensamientos luego se cuentan o quedan escritos: “Qué hago yo aquí”, pensé. “Estoy en una casa que no conozco, en el dormitorio de un individuo al que nunca he visto y del cual sé sólo el nombre de pila, que su mujer ha mencionado natural y intolerablemente varias veces a lo largo de la velada. También es el dormitorio de ella y por eso estoy aquí, velando su enfermedad tras haberle quitado alguna ropa y haberla tocado, a ella sí la conozco, aunque poco y desde hace sólo dos semanas, esta es la tercera vez que la veo en mi vida. Ese marido llamó hace un par de horas, cuando yo ya estaba en su casa cenando, llamó para decir que había llegado bien a Londres, que había cenado en la Bombay Brasserie estupendamente y que se disponía meterse en la cama de su habitación de hotel, a la mañana siguiente le esperaba trabajo, está en viaje breve de trabajo.” Y su mujer, Marta, no le dijo que yo estaba allí, aquí, cenando. Eso me hizo tener la casi seguridad de que aquella era una cena galante, aunque por entonces el niño aún estaba despierto. El marido había preguntado por ese niño sin duda, ella había contestado que estaba a punto de acostarlo; el marido probablemente había dicho: “Pásamelo que le dé las buenas noches”, porque Marta había dicho: “Es mejor que no, anda muy desvelado y si habla contigo se pondrá aún más nervioso y no va a haber quien lo duerma”. Todo aquello era absurdo desde mi punto de vista, porque el niño, de casi dos años según su madre, hablaba de manera rudimentaria y apenas inteligible y Marta tenía que tantearlo y traducirlo, las madres como primeras tanteadoras y traductoras del mundo, que interpretan y luego formulan lo que ni siquiera es lengua, también los gestos y aspavientos y los diferentes significados del llanto, cuando el llanto es inarticulado y no equivale a palabras, o las excluye, o las traba. Tal vez el padre también le entendía y por eso pedía que se pusiera al teléfono aquel niño que, para mayor dificultad, hablaba todo el rato con un chupete en la boca. Yo le había dicho una vez, mientras Marta se ausentaba unos minutos en la cocina y él y yo habíamos quedado solos en el salón que también era comedor, yo sentado a la mesa con la servilleta sobre mi regazo, él en el sofá con un conejo enano en la mano, los dos mirando la televisión encendida, él de frente, yo de reojo: “Con el chupete no te entiendo”. | Translation - English
I turned down the television with the remote before switching it on, and, as I had wanted, the picture appeared without voices and she wasn’t aware of it, even though it immediately increased the light in the room. On the screen was Fred MacMurray with subtitles, an old late-night movie. I flicked through the channels and came back to MacMurray in black and white, to his dumb face. It was then that I couldn’t help stopping myself to think, even though one never thinks too much, nor in the order in which the thoughts are later recounted or written down: “What am I doing here”, I thought. “I am in a house I don’t know, in the bedroom of an individual I have never laid eyes on and of whom I know only a first name, which his wife has naturally and intolerably mentioned several times throughout the evening. It is also her bedroom and that is why I am here, watching over her condition after having taken off some of her clothes and having touched her; yes, her I know, although not well and for only two weeks, this is the third time I have seen her in my life. The husband called a couple of hours ago, when I was already in his house having dinner, he called to say he had arrived safely in London, that he’d had a wonderful dinner at the Bombay Brasserie and would be getting ready to go to bed in his hotel room, the following morning work waited for him, he’s on a brief trip for business.” And his wife, Marta, didn’t tell him I was there, here, having dinner. That made me almost certain it was a romantic dinner, even though at the time the child was still awake. The husband had undoubtedly asked about the child, she had replied that she was about to put him to bed; the husband had probably said: “Put him on so that I can wish him good night”, because Marta had said: “It’s better not to, he’s wide-awake and if he speaks to you he will get even more restless and it will be impossible to get him to sleep”. All of that was absurd from my point of view because the child, almost two years old according to his mother, spoke in a rudimentary and scarcely intelligible manner and Marta would have to decipher what he said and translate it, mothers as the first interpreters and translators in the world, who interpret and then express that which is not even language, as well as facial expressions and gesticulations and the different meanings of crying, when crying is inarticulate and not equivalent to words, or it rules them out, or obstructs them. Perhaps the father also understood him and that is why he would ask to be put on the telephone with the child who, to make matters worse, spoke the whole time with a dummy in the mouth. I’d said to him once, while Marta was away for a few minutes in the kitchen and he and I were left alone in the lounge room that was also a dining room, me sitting at the table with a napkin on my lap, him on the sofa with a toy rabbit in the hand, both watching the flickering television, him in front, me from the corner: “With the dummy I can’t understand you”. |
| | | Registered at ProZ.com: Jun 2008. Became a member: Jun 2008. | | | N/A | | | N/A | | | Adobe Acrobat, Adobe Illustrator, Adobe Photoshop, Microsoft Excel, Microsoft Word, Powerpoint | | | CV/Resume: English | | About me
I am currently based in Sydney, Australia, but am returning to Spain in November 2008.
I hold a Commerce degree with a Marketing major from the University of NSW in Sydney, and have been employed in the fashion industry since 1994.
I have worked for international and Australian fashion houses (Louis Vuitton/LVMH, Esprit, Rockmans, Marcs, David Jones department store) and have retail industry experience across a wide range of head office roles in Buying and Product Development, Merchandise Planning and Production, as well as Store Management and Customer Service.
I have been working as a personal stylist and fashion consultant since 2006, and also work as a freelance writer and transcriber.
I completed my first course in translation in May 2008 through International House in Barcelona, and will commence another course at IH in Barcelona in April 2009 in order to sit for the Chartered Institute of Linguists (CIoL) Diploma in Translation in 2010.
I have studied classical ballet, piano and flute, and am currently studying flamenco dance.
I have lived in Greece and Japan, where during year-long stays I gained a conversational knowledge of both languages. I studied French for seven years, and have travelled extensively throughout Europe since 1978.
From 2003 to 2006 I travelled annually to Andalucia to study flamenco and Spanish (Castellano), and in 2006 spent three months living in Granada and Seville.
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Keywords: fashion, fashion trends reporting, fashion shows reporting, fashion writing, clothing, buying, business, literature, cooking, flamenco, performance, music, travel |
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