Interpreting/Translating

(Summer 2005 Issue)

Fellow JET Alums Share Their Stories

Artificial Interpretation
During my time as an ALT in Sugito, Saitama, I was often asked to interpret and translate ridiculously hard texts simply because there was noone else around to do it, and sometimes my interpretation of whole sections of formal speeches amounted to “Umm….I didn’t quite catch that…it was something to do with welcome and the members of some organisation hope you have a good time and umm…I’ll tell you the rest later. ”  Imagine my panic one day when called over by the mayor to have an in-depth conversation with a dairy farmer about his cattle.  The mayor, who had a good sense of humour, appeared to be asking a question about ‘sexual excitement’  so I asked the farmer if cows feel sexual excitement.  The farmer’s stunned reaction then raucous laughter alerted the mayor that something had gone wrong and he demanded to know what I had interpreted.  As it turned out, the word for ‘sexual excitement’ and ‘artificial insemination’ were one and the same and I had managed to turn an innocuous query about cattle breeding into a dirty joke.  The mayor never had quite the same level of confidence in my interpreting ability after that, and the following year, he hired a professional personal interpreter.
-Jenny Byatt, Australia (Saitama, 1996-1998)

Urgent Satisfaction
I work as a technical editor and translator for a Japanese patent company…from sunny Perth, Australia. I did do one year in this job in Japan, and perhaps the funniest thing we ever had was a letter from a French company, written by a French woman who was asking us for “urgent satisfaction.”  And I thought the French liked to take these things slow… :-)
-Cristy Burne, Perth, Australia

Ichiro & “Unko Atama”
After living in Japan, off and on, for 6 years, I finally moved back to Seattle in early 2001. This was just in time to educate the management of The Seattle Mariner’s Team Store about the Ichiro madness that was about to occur at their store and stadium while, at the same, ask for a job. It ended up being prophetic advice and they rewarded me by promoting me to “liaison” between The Teamstore and The Mariner’s Clubhouse. Basically, my job was to assist the players in buying merchandise so they didn’t have to go into the store/public.

This brings me to the “unique” translating experience that I’d like to share with you.  Mike Cameron, centerfielder for The Mariner’s at the time, was writing me a check while talking with another player named Mike “Mac” McLemore.  Mike was in his locker, Mac was on a couch about 10 feet away and Ichiro was in his locker, which was right next to Mike’s.  While I was focused on making sure Mike wrote the correct dollar amount on the check, the word “Shithead” came out in the conversation between Mike and Mac.

Ichiro then tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Toby-sensei, watto izu shittoheado? Unko atama desuka?”  I turned, tried not to laugh, for Ichiro was truly trying to learn English, and did my best to explain in Japanese that he was correct in the literal translation, but should be very careful about when or where he uses this term.  Then, the word “Dumbass” came out in the conversation, and Ichiro again asked me “Baka oshiri desuka?”  Yet again, I explained to him that his literal translation was fantastic, but that he should be very careful when to use this word, for I was seriously visualizing a fight breaking out on the field where Ichiro smiles at somebody twice his size and says, “Harro Shittoheado!”  After saying what I thought was enough for Ichiro to get my point, I turned back to Mike, who had big saucers for eyes, and he said, “Toby, you speak sushi?!? Hey Mac! Mac! Toby speaks sushi!”

When I was walking back down the “tunnel” (area between clubhouse and team store), it hit me what I had just “taught” Ichiro, and I stopped in my tracks and put my face in my hands.  After  a few “Oh My God’s”, I finally realized that I did my best in explaining the meanings and that whatever happens…happens. It was just a really surreal experience.

Anyway, I do not work for The M’s anymore, but I did become close friends with Ichiro’s brother and father. Not as close now as when I was working there, but when Kaz (Ichiro’s bro’) comes to town, we usually hook up for dinner or something. 2001 was an amazing year
to work for The M’s and my job was the dog’s bollocks.  I worked from 10am -7pm on game days which meant I opened the store and then had my dog and beer by the time Ichiro was coming up to the plate.  Winning 116 games that year and being able to experience the
clubhouse harmony on a daily basis, I am really glad I decided to move on after that season.  That job didn’t pay well and there weren’t any “benefits”.  However, the memories……sweet memories…..will last a lifetime!
-Toby “Baka Oshiri” Weymiller, Seattle (Hokkaido 1997-2000)

My first translation story involves a German. In 1992 or so a German artist visited Yaku-Cho, Kagoshima. A mentor of his back in Germany had written a speech that I think he was going to in connection with an exhibit at a local museum.

He had an English version and wanted me to proofread and help edit it. One sentence seemed long and I thought we could say it in a simpler way, making it more understandable. Nope. He actually told me that in such cases he wanted to use the longer, more complex sentence.

My second story happened a year after coming home.  In 1994 I was helping with the America-Japan Week celebration in Minneapolis.  The Greater Minneapolis Convention and Visitors Association organized it and one of the staffers was of Asian ancestry but spoke no Japanese. (She grew up in Iowa, I think a Korean adoptee.) People would see her, assume she was Japanese, and speak accordingly.  At one point I was talking with some Japanese and she came up and asked me a question, naturally in English. Turning to her, and still thinking in Japanese, I replied in Japanese.  But if my Mom had come up to me at that point I would’ve answered HER in Japanese, too.
-Mike Harper (CIR Kagoshima-ken, 1990-93)

World Cup a Feel?
During the 2002 World Cup, Kobe City posted a gaggle of bilingual English/Japanese signs around the stations to inform international visitors how to take the train to the stadium from Sannomiya, the city’s hub.  Amazingly, the English bit advised patrons (in big black letters) to “GET IT ON FROM SANNOMIYA STATION.”  I’m not sure why they didn’t let us CIRs have a look at these before they were slapped up all over town, but Marvin Gaye definitely would have approved.
-Justin Tedaldi, New York

Living in North Carolina after JET, I was asked to interpret (on a pro bono basis) for a unique “redneck” family reunion.  Apparently, this elderly North Carolina good ol’ boy was a fireman on the US base in Okinawa in the early 1960s.  While there he married a Japanese woman, brought her back to North Carolina and had two children with her, despite the fact that he speaks no Japanese and she speaks no English.  She finally got tired of life in North Carolina and moved back to Okinawa by herself.  Except that she was pregnant with a baby boy whom she gave birth to and raised in Okinawa.  The old guy decided he wanted to get his whole family together one last time.  So he flew the ex-wife in along with her son and his wife and baby.  Oh yeah, and the ex-wife’s sister came too.  So I walked into this family reunion where a bunch of people, now all grown up with their own kids, are related and haven’t met each other before or haven’t spoken in years, and they can’t communicate with each other.  One of the first things I had to do was explain to the Okinawa son, then 27 years old, that the father wanted to give him a decent sum of money.  However, he was embarrassed or something and didn’t want to accept it, so I had to keep going back and forth.  And the North Carolina daughter would explain a whole bunch of stuff to me which I would then translate in a very nutshell version to the Okinawa son, who then grew very suspicious as to why my version was so much shorter than his American sister’s.

But one of the most touching experiences of my life came when one of the older brothers had me explain a childhood memory to the Okinawa son.  It was a memory of him as a baby that no one else would have been able to relate to him, of how as a baby he saw a candle flame and wanted to touch it.  And how his father, rather than hold him back, let him touch it so he would learn about danger from his own experience.  The Okinawa son grew very pensive and quiet, and as I translated it really hit me that these people who seemed so different and disconnected really did share a connection.
-Steven Horowitz, New York (Aichi-ken, 1992-94)