Fare in 2011

Some thoughts better not left for 2011

On a recent assignment, during a short break at the beginning of a session around a meeting table, the gentleman on my left side, turned to me and started to engage into non-interactive socialization by asking right away, without any warning or warming : “How do you say “Lady first” in French?” I was taken aback, by the whole dynamics of the setting, the weirdness of the question, the demonstration that this honorable Japanese gentleman who would later on start an incredibly long and slightly pretentious speech in excellent English (meaning I could listen idle) didn't see me as a fellow human, but as an interpreter, that is, a connecting bone in the machinery of communication management as if reduced to a mere linguistic exercise. A piece of lego in a moving construction out of a Christmas box.

I was taken aback for a long 2 or 3 never ending seconds, gasping for a proper answer when light struck and I came up with the most potent answer I could think : “You don't say “Lady first”, you do it!”

That was the end of our conversation besides a short final and conventional exchange of balls where he threw a :

“So you speak Japanese, French English?”

and I threw back the equally conventional :

“Yes, only”, with a dash of faked regrets and humility.

It drew the standard and expected laughs.

Ah! That emptiness of conventional non-conversation with so many Japanese! A matter of degree that is.

But there was a confirmation of something I have been growing keener to perceive in 2010, the fact that if the interpreter is expected, or commended in books, to be an expert in languages and matters of cultures (read “difference of cultures and what awareness of difference means”), there is no warning about that client speaking perfect corporate English as a result of many, many years spent not on a plushy assignment abroad, but having spent most of his career inside the glass and steel walls of a subsidiary in Tokyo of a major blue chip company. Perks and recurrent short trips to the US, and a daily life of conversing in English had made him a “locally internationalized businessman of high rank”. That is, culturally still and deeply a village dweller, and not one of the pervasively called “global village”.

At least, he didn't need an interpreter, but off-time, a coach in “understanding differences in cultural matters” may have brought some change. But I doubt the effectiveness of it.

I am writing this in Venice, not California but the European crumbling splendor of a town, fatty ice creams the mere look at it fills up the stomach. Yet another global village unless you veer away in a sunny or shady backstreet. During the many queuings in airports to miss canceled planes and try but in vain to retrieve our luggage now gone and almost forgotten, I met a somewhat similar kind of person, the highly satisfied linguist who dearly thinks of him as a supernatural genius of communication because of his mastery of many language.

I have already forgotten what we were queuing for, but having heard our mix of Japanese and French family conversation, he amiably called me, propping the day edition of Le Monde, to show me a sentence in the middle of an article, asking me in very good French the reasons why of a verbal structure. Only parrots being asked on the spot, because being and recognized as parrots, to voice over like a skeezy human, do not get surprised and pissed of by an other fellow for whom conversation starts and ends with matters of linguistic, and grammar this time. He just wanted to show off that he new his grammar better than I. I later asked him if he were a tourist guide as he was like chaperoning a bunch of Japanese ladies, but he told me no. He then went into bragging mode, listing the many languages he knew, suggesting he could not exactly tell in which university he was teaching (maybe the Japanese CIA?) as if on a secret mission. He had learned French at the very same school where I distill interpretation for business. I curled back after a few exchange, especially when he started playing the mysterious chap. There was something similar in both situations, where conversation was mystified by this never pleased need to show off. And therefore, conversation never happens.

So, what's up with Venice? Just the fact that in Italian – and that's about the only understanding I can brag about that language - you “aren't” an interpreter, you “do” (fare) the interpreter. That's another reason to long for another life where I could speak Italian, not only cook pasta. “fare” hits right on the nail's head. You “do” it, like a sportswear maker slogan. Which leaves room for other professional activities, with the attached many business cards.

As for the very advanced speakers of the kind I described, clients should try and be aware that fluency may hide profound cultural inconsistencies and blind spots. And these may play diffuse and negative bad tricks in your interpretation of how much “globalized” your counterpart really is. 

A new meaningless lip service expression

There must be some new business expression in Japanese I am not aware of. Agencies have a knack to come up with urgent needs at a time when business is virtually closed. The one request I received - Happy Christmas! - starts with a polite expression thanking me to have accepted the assignment request. That the verb, in accomplished form, smashes into the following sentence asking me about my being available for the task - in effected never heard about and therefore not accepted - seems to be an expression of new hights into vapor language.

Are you worth something

"As a long-time freelance interpreter, I feel like I am worth nothing if I keep my experience for my own sake. Therefore, I think all experienced interpreters have the responsibility to share their experience with their juniors to encourage them to enter the world of interpreting as a new promising career."

I picked this in a thorough and rare article about the profession at large published in 2005 in the online Translation Journal, authored by Mr. Izak Morin in Indonesia.

If worthiness is a consequence and sharing professional experience, I am afraid the profession is massively lagging behind.

Among the rare reasons cited, some by non-practitioners, I remember the fact that interpreters are dealing with confidential stuff, therefore being mute as a clam is de rigueur. How come then this doesn't apply to translation where community interaction is thriving? The usual stance is that interpreters are busy. Just like translators. 

Anyway, my take is that there is a need for many more Mr. Morin.

Strategic disengagement

"Contractors are never full participants. As experts practioners in their respective fields, they may function like employees and may well be full contributors to the larger goals of the client. Their marginal status, however, demands strategic disengagement, evident in their interactions, which keeps them apart."


This is a snippet from "Freelancing Expertise: Contract Professionals in the New Economy", a book I have yet to read but already sailed through the many pages available in the Amazon preview. This is already one of these rare book you flip through, stop at some pages, and get the sudden awareness and thrill that "gee!, this is talking about me!" There are no "Interpreters on the job - Getting better at it" book I am aware of. And when it comes to the broader category of independent contractor, you are seemingly left with the kind of "How to make 6 figures as freelancer", "Working at home in pajamas", and in Japan where self-deprecation and the corporate mantra are the massive norm, "How to work on thrift for your own and relish precarity".

I seems that there are no interpreters listed among the contractors the author Debra Osnowitz interviewed but this doesn't matter. Broadly speaking, we are all in the boat. That's where similarity may end as there are many boats with many shapes, but they do share common specs and are distinguished by inner and at large factors.

I love this expression, strategic disengagement. It made a tild sound that resonates even now when reading it.

You prop on the scene, deliver the goods, pack up and say goodbye, as last Friday. There is no reason to match the steps of the pack of people belonging to one side of the interaction now closed until there is ,maybe a next time. The sidelines, the snippets of conversation they have, planning for their dinner, their night, their concerns, the giggles, the puns they exchange, the elation that it is Friday evening and the work and the week is being wrapped soon to be stored until Monday, all this is none of your business. Your unique point now is to leave in
style, not surreptitiously as often seen. Someone, even more than one, wrote about how Japanese are bad, from a Western point of view that is, at leaving the showroom. I don't exactly agree on this. They are bad doing it alone, they need assistance, then everything get classy. But you are alone and seeking assistance is not the main point. Exchanging reckoning cues is what matters. Here, training at formal Japanese interaction theatrics comes handy. Strategic disengagement is also at play when leaving the room. You don't belong and that is a fact that can't be negotiated. That is why interpretation, like any contracting service, pipe cleaner, electrician and the likes, is a matter of performing alone. Now, where is the serious and valuable book about Strategic disengagement?

Mentoring and consecutive

The world of booths being a mystery, may I assume that mentoring (or is it shadowing?) is part of the process of learning from veterans? I want to assume it is a duo or team work, the human configuration of which allows for mentoring in action. But what about consecutive?

Some agencies suggest that two consecutive interpreters are required when some amount of hours is crossed over. But being alone in the arena has always been standard. No direct customer I know of would ever think about paying for two interpreters.

How and why mentoring could happen in this domain of professional lone wolves? I leave the why for another time, but I have approached a student of mine with a possible invitation to trail me for a day or half a day sometimes next year, and granted the client will agree, to see business interpretation in action, with all its splendors and, at times, mishaps. 

Moving in the meeting room

The position of the consecutive interpreter in a meeting room is supposed to be fixed. Isn't it?

I can precisely remember the situation when I decided on the spot to raise from the chair and walk closer to the presenter gesturing on the side of the projection screen, pointing with finer and arm at specific information spread onto the slide.

I moved closer because voice interpretation was  simply inefficient, loosing all the gesturing, the implicit logical chain of facts, comments and attached information that had been delivered by the speaker. The gesturing was part of the explanation, and also part of the keys to understand the argumentative flow, and offer better rendering.

I have been doing this "moving to the blackboard" many times since then. It's a good exercise in assuming or faking self-control, and also, if successfully managed, raise the importance and value of the interpreter. Does this stepping onto the stage goes against the discreet, neutral mantra of the interpreter as a compulsory device that should be kept as transparent as possible? The answer is a resounding yes. I only see one accommodation to this, that the interpreter be given a laser pointer, which has never happened. And incidentally, laser pointers have not been a common appliance available in the meeting rooms I have stepped in. In one occasion, the presenter propped out his own device, Star Wars like.

Detailled description of a PowerPoint slide puts challenges in the post-delivery laps of time. The interpreter can't seriously bury her nose and head in the printed document she may have on hand. By doing this, all the gesturing and information that is pegged to this dancing would be lost, and proper rendering put into jeopardy. Intently watching the scene, that is, the screen, is mandatory. And also the presenter. As a result, note taking gets even more challenging. I always carry my notepad (advert starts here - long live the Tops Docket 63858 - advert end here) even standing or whatever. Note taking is challenging, but most of the notes are already there, on the slide, so that the note taking activity is mostly mental, grabbing the logical flow, the intended logical descriptors so that rendering gets very close, gestures included, to the voice and physical performance of the presenter.

There is no situation I know in business interpretation where the activity get so physical, and the rewards, when good delivery is achieved, so much satisfying. Which also suggest that presentation skill be part of the business interpreter's set of skills.

Protocol and etiquette

”a translator that is very good at both English and Japanese and that can advise on protocol and etiquette.” This is part of an inquiry received almost 4 days ago. I answered back that at the required date I was already booked. I passed the offer to a colleague who was available at that date. Unfortunately, the date moved and my colleague was no longer available. What happened later is a mystery for about two days, until the same request popped up now in the bulletin board service of the Japan Association of Translators. I am unsure whether there is a telling here, about the requesting side not clever or lucky enough to still look for an interpreter after a good 72 hours, or the possible reflexion that when looking from scratch for an interpreter in Tokyo, unless you go paying a commission to an agency, odds are low you can find one. That is, in the capital city of the third economy in the world. One should be taking this at least as a good news for interpreters shunning at and being shunned by agencies.


The other thing I found unique is the request for someone that "can advise on protocol and etiquette". The subject of protocol and etiquette is often raised, before meetings start. The visitor read before coming that Japan and formalism make one. That there are manners of business card exchange, and as in martial arts, there are only single proper ways to perform the "kata". There is the implicit that formalism, protocol and codified attitudes are markers of the Japanese side, whereas on the opposite, manicheanly speaking, there is spontaneity, rudeness, brawl, big laughters and lots of air being moved around at full speed. The iron clad businessman is preemptively ashamed and ill at ease with the risk of being and looking awkward, and messing things up. But a prospect explicitly looking for an interpreter cum majordomo and consultant in matters of manners is unique, until next time. 


One of the recurrent questions I am asked is about gifts and the timing for gift delivery. Usually, the gift comes at a first time business meeting. I don't know where this impression that a gift is needed at a first business meeting comes from. In my experience, Japanese businessmen meeting for the first time never exchange gifts. They meet for business. Why should this be different when Foreigners meet Japanese? Of course, there is no rule that forbid giving gifts but it may create a forced dynamic of reciprocity on the Japanese side if there is a next time. I have seen many exchanges of gifts among friendly partners though, and the question of timing is not properly answered by these examples. 


I asked the other day my students about gift offering timing. Most were puzzled but there was no general opinion. Some thought that at the beginning of the meeting was appropriate. Others felt that before parting was better. 


So much things get into the timing of delivery, things related to the mood and situation at stake, that I don't see a unique answer. But I usually suggest my clients to deliver during that window following the conclusion of the meeting and the departure, while everyone is still sitting but soon will call it quit.


Forms, protocol and manners are ways to behave in social interaction without fretting too much about how to behave. The Western side is under the feeling that protocol and manners are old smelly stuffs of an unnatural, stiffed upper lip world lagging behind even though so charming, when ladies clad in kimono perform. In schools here, the learning by doing about how to behave starts from day one. It doesn't guaranty off awkwardness, but at least, the rail tracks are visible. The wayward trackless Western side suddenly aware of its unruliness is put under pressure by itself when sensing that usual cowboy cordiality may not fit. 


Most of the time, awkwardness is a shared feeling, although the extent of it varies. Being a courteous self, often meaning containing voice and gestures excess, is easier than what the average Westerner may assume. The majority of clients naturally fit and my rule is to defuse the tension before the meeting by telling them there is no reasons to much fret about protocol. Being a gentle, listening self is usually enough to fit. 

The Tao of tau

Donald Richie wrote way back ago in his Journals some essential remarks about interaction with Japanese using the Japanese language as a medium of communication. Reading the Journals was an eye opener a few years ago, despite having logged already 20 years living here. It was all there, but without much the dragging gloom or shrieks of so many bloggers about Japan. His was a cool amateur ethnologist observing. Sometimes, one need to be reminded that as a general rule, not much leeway is allowed in Japanese usage, otherwise you risk to be genuinely misunderstood, or not understood at all. There is, on the opposite side of the table a well shared lack of competence at inference or delivering explanation. I will not put this liability to the language, but to formalism and what it means in terms of flexibility and the lack of it. Richie wondered when somewhere in the countryside, with still to progress language competence, why gesturing seemed less efficient here than in the middle of the Italian countryside. Or more precisely, Ritchie didn't wonder. He just enunciated the acute difficulty of interaction when not relying on exact language.

It was not about gesturing the other day, but about "taurine", that popped up in the discussion and I was culprit not to take the bull by the horns. On the Japanese side, they could not fathom what was that "taurine" we were talking about because of my wrong pronunciation. I was hooked to the French horns, and pronouncing "tau" like "to" made understanding impossible. The correct pronounciation is "ta-o-rin". Things went back to normal when I noticed later on on the package the word in printed form, showed it to the puzzled listeners who sighed in relief "ta! o-rin!". That's when Richie came back to my mind. Recalling Richie before it happens is the next goal.

Unheard of request

In another location on the Internet, someone relayed the request from some French tour agency for an interpreter between Japanese and French, not the coming week, but in one year time. The agency is looking for an interpreter with competences in the art of traditional Japanese gardens, local shrubs and ecosystem. Chances are low that such interpreter be found in Kyoto, but with one year to get ready, and for a two weeks assignment that could turn a yearly request, any interpreter with some aplomb and curiosity has plenty of time to turn knowledgeable and more on these subjects.

It is also unheard to me at least to read about a service request to take place so far into the future. So many things could happen until then, on both sides, including during the coming next five minutes.

But let's imagine a situation where a client requests an interpreter to get knowledgeable and  work on a specific subject for delivering service in the coming X months, with pointers to what to read, listen to and watch. Wouldn't it be simply incredible?

Is shadowing a course subject?

I am asking the question to readers who might have gone through an interpretation curriculum. Is shadowing a classroom subject and activity? I did offer a course on shadowing a few years ago to students who had no intention whatever to go into interpreting career. They were learning French. It was a Summer course, an activity part of a package fit for Summer. Light stuff, candy bar, French mood  and fancy (a majority of students are female). There was five session which was plenty enough. Some enormously enjoyed it. The room, a language lab with antiquated material, was packed with some 20 students, It was a revelation to them, that forcibly pushing the voice in a foreign language, chasing other people's discourses were both a challenge and an enabling activity, the jogging for voice and prosody. But they could have done it at home. I gave them explanation, the howto rules, including hardware, software and content t suggestion to plunge into for free over the Internet.

Now is the time to reassess the value of shadowing in the classroom. Have you done this classroom style in interpretation schools?