Through my work at the SGN agency, I have had an unique opportunity. Instead of providing interpreting services, I have participated in exchanges where an outside interpreter has been hired to ensure impartiality.

I never realized how difficult (yet necessary!) it is to remember to speak slowly and articulately, while also making sure to avoid grouping several sentences together.

I have learned am trying to learn to minimize my natural tendency to be verbose, as well as to avoid using jargon just so others can admire my knowledge. It is not a competition.

It is a rare opportunity to watch a colleague at work, and I am going to make sure I learn as much as I can from it.

Dear Universe:

Thank you for sending so much work my way a few months ago. Thank you also for the quiet time to get caught up in the business of daily life.

If you feel like throwing work in my direction again, it would be welcome. Nothing too fancy, but not too disgusting. I am not desperate yet.

Sincerely, Jo-Hanna

My parents’ visit came to an end too soon.

And I don’t say this just because on more than one occasion they picked up the tab for dinner or because my mother scrubbed out my refrigerator (Yes, I know I mentioned this before. Sue me). I miss their presence. Their witty conversation. The fact that they love me and encourage me to pursue my new career goal. s remain as usual.

Since my last posting, I had one interpreting gig, which went OK. I can’t remember if I wore the Pantsuit of Justice or if I managed to assemble some other Outfit of Justice that was more appropriate for the weather.

And in other news…it has been suggested that I acquire a webcam in order to do remote interpreting. I am going to look into that.

After much threatening to do so… my parents have finally come here for a visit.

Oh, the conversations! I should take notes for future “Conversations” posts. While my father is now retired, he remains brilliant, witty, and organized. As fas as my mother… I’ll announce it for my whole readership to know: the woman scrubbed out my refrigerator. And this was only one of the tasks she has undertaken.

Seriously. The woman came to my apartment with rubber gloves and scrubbing sponges in her purse. She asked me where my apron was. I stared at her blankly, because in my eight years in that apartment, there has been no apron in my apartment. If I was a better person, I would have said, “Mom, please, you are on vacation!” In fact, I think I said it. But the woman was adamant.

“There. Don’t you feel better with a clean fridge?”
“MAMI! Ok, I do.”

For Latino parents, raising autistic child has complex barriers

As a both Puerto Rican and the mother of an autistic child, I could relate. At least both my husband and I do not have to cope with a language barrier when looking up information, speaking to my daughter’s teachers and doctors, or signing her up for services. The article linked above describes the struggle of a Puerto Rican family residing in the US in finding services for their daughter, who is autistic.

Some of the comments, of course, made my blood boil.  One stated that the mother, who according to the article, doesn’t speak English, was just creating obstacles for her daughter. However, the father saw fit to respond Note: spelling and grammar are true to the original:

This article was directed mostly to people whom are at the  begining stages of finding there child has the condition. Latino parents just recently immagrating to the USA and have  children with autism should make it a priority to learn the English but inthe mean time there children should’nt have to go on with out help. We have our share of hard time much like any other families with autistic children. As a latino I and know how hard it could be at the begining I hope we can help latino families with there obsticles. This is why i agree to do this interview.

I couldn’t have put it more eloquently myself.

My Mami sent me a card for Mother’s Day (I mailed out hers today).  She included a clipping from El Nuevo Día about Luis Rivera Colón, a young student/autism activist who has been admitted to the University of Puerto Rico’s graduate studies program on translation. I would include a link to it, but their website requires you to log in. If you don’t mind logging in and are able to read Spanish, just do a search.

In other news, I have spent the last few days going to bed late, waking up at 4:00 a.m., forcing myself to stay in bed until 5:00, and trying to find something to do until I absolutely must start getting ready for bed. Yesterday, I did the dishes; today, I proofed documents that needed it. 5:00 a.m. is the magic hour. Maybe tomorrow I’ll split atoms.

I have been asked to provide the insights gained from the MICATA conference I attended two weeks ago. I am sure you expect something more coherent than “It was AWESOME!” Please keep in mind that I am working from memory and not a program.

I attended a conference on CAT software, which didn’t teach me much I didn’t already know, and another where I picked up some tips on TRADOS. Despite a few years using that sucker, there was one function I was completely unaware existed. I’ll spare myself some embarrassment and refrain from disclosing.

There were other sessions that were quite interesting, such as working with agencies and issues in medical/legal interpreting. After the lunch (quite good, actually, despite the presence of decaf coffee), I attended a session on technology. I was tempted to call it “All the Gadgets that Would Make Your Interpreting Career More Profitable (If You Could Afford Them!)” Apparently, in addition to the basic computer and cell phone, you need a GPS device. And your cell phone should be a SmartPhone. While the lecturer enumerated the advantage of a SmartPhone (you could, for instance, take a picture of a text, e-mail it to yourself, and start working right then and there!), electronic dictionaries, I could not help but think about two things:

• My cell phone at the time didn’t even work all that well. I had functioned for months without the camera function, but the display had gone blank.  It has been upgraded by now, thanks for asking.
• If I had been a little smarter, I would have brought that piece of primitive technology known as a legal pad so I could take notes.

Recently, I have had to deal with YET another occasion where I was all ready to wear the Pantsuit of Justice, even had a little ledger with a pad to take notes on and everything. And the gig, for reasons completely unrelated to me, gets canceled. So I was a bit cranky about that.

And then my partner in the Ongoing Major Group Project invites me to join her for the annual Symposium of the Mid-America Chapter of the American Translators Association (MICATA).

ROAD TRIP!

So many preparations. I need to finish folding laundry, start packing, leave instructions for the husband…

Like I said to my partner, I am excited and nauseous at the same time.

I haven’t done much translation work in the past month. The Pantsuit of Justice (c)  ALMOST made its appearance when I was offered an assignment that I was able to accept.  Unfortunately, a few days before it was to take place, it got canceled. I was also approached by a potential client, but so far, as of this date, nothing has materialized.

During this hiatus, I have taken the time to focus on some of my interests that are not related to translation (hint: Ravelry). I have also realized that apparently, perfectly sane people above the age of 21 are on Facebook. My dad! My brother! Former high school classmates! That kid who lived next door! I am sure it could be used for translation-related networking there, but I am not there yet.

However, my sabbatical is about to come to an end. I am currently working on a couple of projects. While it took me a while to get started, it feels like I never stopped.

The other day, I got a letter from my dad, featuring two newspaper clippings from the December 24, 2008 issue of El Nuevo Día (for the unfamiliar, a Puerto Rican newspaper). One featured an autistic teenager who had learned how to make jewelry from an artisan. As my daughter is autistic, he figured (correctly) that this would be of interest to me. The other one featured the following headline:

Ayuda francesa a defensa de Brasil (French aid to Brazil’s defense)
 

And of course, I was left to wonder as to why my dad felt the need to send me this particular news item. Until I flipped it over, and read the following headline:

Tribunales de EE.UU. necesitan más intérpretes (US tribunals need more interpreters).

The original article, a very good translation of the original article written by Jean Ortiz, not only features one of my fellow certified interpreters (I sent her a copy)  but it outlines a rather important point: how, in a place like my home state of Nebraska, which used to have a rather homogeneous population until recently, there is a growing need for interpreters.

Unfortunately, I cannot provide a link to the Spanish-language article from El Nuevo Día (their archive requires a subscription), but I can provide a link to the one that appeared in the Lincoln Journal-Star.