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Sample translations submitted: 1
Spanish: English to Spanish assessed university translation General field: Art/Literary Detailed field: Tourism & Travel
Source text - Spanish In the Calcutta orphanage where I worked in the 1980s, the girls used an expression that challenged my worldview. When I would ask a simple question, such as, “Where’s Bhavani?” or “What time is Didi coming back?” they would usually answer with two Bengali words: Ki jani? Rather than a specific, “I don’t know,” ki jani is a more sweeping, “What do I know?” It’s a global confession, an existential declaration of the sheer inability of mere mortals to know.
In the Western world where I was raised, knowledge was the ultimate value. Textbook knowledge got you into a good college or grad school. Knowledge of current events and national politics won you the approbation, “well-informed.” Even knowledge of trivialities, such as what year Napoleon was defeated at Waterloo, became a passion, spawning a million-dollar trivia industry. During my twenties, I used to devour Newsweek and Time, lest someone at a party would ask me about some recondite political figure and I would have to publicly confess to the cardinal sin of not knowing. (Alas, in my life I was invited to only one party, and no one asked me anything, not even my name.) Not knowing was an embarrassment, a public pillory to be avoided at all costs. If I didn’t know, I would guess. If I couldn’t guess, I would fake it.
Translation - Spanish En el orfanato de Calcuta donde trabajé durante los años ochenta, las chiquilinas empleaban una expresión que cuestionó mi cosmovisión. Cuando les hacía una pregunta sencilla, tal como «¿Dónde está Bhavani?» o «¿A qué hora vuelve Didi?», solían contestar con dos palabras en bengalí, ¿Ki jani? En lugar de un específico «No sé’», ki jani es un «¿Qué sé yo?»’ más generalizado. Es una confesión global, una declaración existencial de la pura incapacidad de los meros mortales de saber.
En el mundo occidental donde crecí, la sabiduría era el valor supremo. Estudiar y memorizar meticulosamente los manuales escolares permitió a uno a ingresar en una buena universidad o en un master. Conocer los acontecimientos actuales y de la política nacional le ganaba la aprobación de estar «bien informado»’ Incluso el conocimiento de trivialidades, tales como en qué año Napoleón fue vencido en la batalla de Waterloo, se convirtió en una pasión que generó una industria de preguntas y respuestas de millones de dólares. Cuando tenía veintitantos, devoraba las revistas Newsweek y Time, para que nadie me preguntara sobre una figura política recóndita y que tuviera que confesar públicamente el pecado capital de no saberlo. (Ay, me invitaron a una sola fiesta, y nadie me preguntó nada, ni siquiera mi nombre) El acto de no saber era ponerse en la picota pública, algo que daba vergüenza y que había que evitar a toda costa. Si no sabía, adivinaba. Si no podía adivinar, improvisaba.
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I am currently in my final year studying French and Spanish at UCL, London. I am seeking translation opportunities in literary and audiovisual forms of media. I approach my duties with diligence, care and precision.
I have spent time in both France and Uruguay, and have knowledge in translation and interpretation of Uruguayan/Rioplatense Spanish.
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