Happy Interpreter

2022-04-19 13:16:37 W/Na Ukrainie

It seemed carved in stone: when I was learning Polish, there was only one correct way to say "in Ukraine": "na Ukrainie". Unlike in the Russian language, Poles use this preposition with names of many other modern countries, some of which never were part of Poland (e.g. "na Węgrzech"). When denoting destination, only one of those countries could be used with variable prepositions—both "na Słowację" and "do Słowacji" were correct; all the rest had to be used with "na".

The atrocious war of 2014 didn't change the situation much. But the war of 2022, it seems, finally shook the foundations and effed the ineffable. All the respected Polish language pundits now say in one voice: both "na" and "w/do" have sufficient historical backgrounds, and both can be used in modern Polish—and, in their personal opinion, using "w/do" makes much more sense now. (If you want to hear the same in a woman's voice, there you go).

Socially responsible media, such as Radio 357, are now consistently using "w Ukrainie / do Ukrainy" in their communication (needless to say, this same radio supports pro-Ukrainian charities, and covers events in Ukraine with due effort and diligence, mindfully in compassionately).

In Russian, Ukraine seems to be the only non-island country used with "na," which is inconsistent at the least. Back in 1990s, they made some decent effort to switch to from "na" to "w" (even their current dictator used to say "w Ukrainie"), but then quickly backslid to "na" again.

What's their current situation? The choice pretty much depends on whether the speaker supports or condemns the war. Let's quote one of the Russian language pundits:

Предлоги окончательно поляризовались, и даже с разными обозначениями происходящего на територии Украины используются разные предлоги. Со словом "спецоперация" используется предлог "на", то есть, мы читаем новости российских СМИ о "спецоперации на Украине"; a с другим словом используется предлог "в", и я не видел использования предлога "на" в сочетании с этим словом — там только "в Украине". 

You've guessed right: the mysterious "other word" he is referring to is "WAR", and the pundit himself chooses to silently condone it. According to him, "не стоит придавать предлогам тех смыслов, которых в них нет, и грамматический вопрос превращать в военно-политический". Unsurprisingly, some of his previous soft-power activity was funded through Russia's presidential grants, and was conducted not only in the Crimea, but also in the self-proclaimed republics in the East of Ukraine—years before Putin "recognized" them. Indeed, once Persil—always Persil. Open / Comment

2022-04-16 15:21:10 One Badass Pop Sci Vlogger
#PopularScience

One of the unnoticed perils of this war for a male civilian like me is a rather high chance of gaining some pounds—seriously, I still "carry some weight" of the first 2020 pandemic lockdown. 

Think of it this way: even for those as active professionally, socially, and athletically as before (although, frankly, few of us are), many of the usual activities are limited in time now. E.g., before the war, I could do some jogging at 11 pm, or take a leisurely stroll at 5 am; now, I have to stay at home because of the curfew. To keep the balance, it's only logical to impose similar time restrictions on one's consumption of food...

My discovery of intermittent fasting—or, to use a more precise term, time-restricted eating—was serendipitous. A water cooler chat, an extra-long day at work in a high-security facility with no food left in the evening—and here you have it, I jumped into the experiment in mid-February. I desperately needed to get a better view of what I was embarking upon, at least to pick a suitable time interval. 

Fortunately, I stumbled upon Huberman Lab Podcast that answered all my questions and more. No matter what aspect of daily bodily science you are interested in, neuroscientist Andrew Huberman almost surely has an episode for you! On a separate note, his voice is quite likeable, too. But I'll save you the spoilers—check for yourself.

Oh, in case you are interested in my results: unlike in the lockdown, I've actually lost about 2 kg over the last 2 months. Nothing too impressive, especially compared to the stories of the people I spoke with. However, time-restricted eating proved surprisingly easy to follow, and seems to have a host of other unexpected health and behavioral benefits. My verdict: it's definitely worth trying! Open / Comment

2022-04-08 15:20:26 ​​Eyewitness Accounts

News updates can be truly horrifying these days. Still, the more fortunate of us—those residing far from Ukraine and having no friends or relatives here—manage to shrug this off as some kind of propaganda, or just a bad dream, or whatever. 

Personal stories are one of the tools to breach this gap of indifference. In fact, much of our interpreters' and translators' work right now has to do with eyewitness accounts—making them accessible to the global audience. 

Most of the time we are translating the words of others; in my home city, I personally witnessed only one missile attack, and saw the consequences of another. But what if a top-notch interpreter had to experience the all-out turmoil firsthand, e.g. stay in Bucha throughout its occupation? What if they could write a chilling diary straight from the bomb shelter, typing it on a mobile phone thoughtfully hidden from the occupiers?

The fact is, there is such an interpreter, and here is his wartime diary on Medium (impressive text-to-speech available).

Still not sure if he is a real person? I've found a sweet old pic for you: the diary's author, joined by Word4Power and yours truly, sharing remote interpretation experience (before it went mainstream in 2020). Oh, how happy, how careless, and how euphoric our lives were!

Some more eyewitness accounts from people of all walks of life—1,900 and counting—can be found here. As a rule, they are not in English, but Google Translate, our tireless digital colleague, readily helps to get the message across. And if you happen to be from Ukraine, I hope you will find some of these memoirs inspiring, and decide to share your own story, too. Open / Comment

2022-04-06 09:00:42 ​​Long in the Tooth

"I’m too long in the tooth," said President Biden in one of the recent press conferences. What did he mean?

Though the meaning is quite guessable from the context, it is better to be forearmed with exact knowledge, especially with people like Biden, whose speech is at times a bit slurred because they are rather... long in the tooth :-)

You've guessed it: the phrase is a joking way to say someone is old. This 16th century Latin expression was first used in written English by William Makepeace Thackeray back in 1852. The thing is, horses' teeth actually get longer with age—hence another old adage, "don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

How then do we render Biden's phrase in Ukrainian? Some options include:

Старий я вже.
Я вже не в тому віці.
Я вже збУйвік.
З мене вже порохнЯ / порохнО / порох сиплеться. 

In case you are from Ukraine, notice how polysemantic the last one becomes if we use it to describe our Gray-Haired Hetman! 

* * *

If you are following генрі kissінжир, our today's content surely rings a bell with you—because this is exactly where the better part of this post is borrowed from.

The channel is authored by Silvester Nosenko, a fellow interpreter known for his work for President Zelenskyy and the likes. Though not really long in the tooth, Silvester consistently delves deep into the language and the subject matter of what he interprets and translates. You could have heard him unveil some inner workings of our profession in this podcast episode.

Silvester's efforts demand admiration, and his channel is worth following—among other things, you'll learn where to send the proverbial Russian warship, and how to call Russian politicians. Open / Comment

2022-04-03 13:58:46 ​​One Miracle at a Time 

Interpreters help change lives... maybe. As a rule, I was skeptical about this statement: no matter how important work we do, no matter how satisfied the clients are, any life-changing outcomes are difficult to track at best.

Now, in wartime, I sometimes try my hand in the subtle art of fixership. And you know what? Life truly knows how to bewilder one with a sudden miracle. 

...Michael envisioned a story depicting the war through the lens of a local church. OK. But which church should we choose if they are so numerous? We came to a natural compromise: I took the team to a church I picked, and they took me to a church they picked. This was only fair, and we actually got two great features for the price of one.

2 weeks later, there was a heartwarming update. 

Touched by the TV story of a refugee family from the war-torn Hostomel, and more specifically, of a teenaged ballroom dancer suddenly robbed off his dream, a dancing school in Aarhus got an idea... In short, the entire family is safe in Denmark now, and the boy is back to dancing.

I want Ukraine to win as fast as possible. I want invaders to go to hell where they belong, or back to their insipid, hapless, fear-infested lives in Russia (who knows which of the two options is worse). I want to interpret for huge conferences in Kyiv, joined by scores of consummate colleagues and friends. But even before that happens, let us keep making a difference—one miracle at a time. Open / Comment

2022-02-21 10:37:02 Sudden Visibility

In every shitty situation there's hope for some unexpected benefit. Due to Russia's aggression in 2014, people like me became full-fledged interpreters. And due to the shitshow that's happening now (with very tangible implications for millions of people), the profession suddenly gained long-due attention. 

Here's a recent example: Danylo Mokryk, a Ukrainian journalist with a 50K+ audience on YouTube devoted almost an entire episode to interpretation, translation, and our President's premature attempts to communicate in English. 

The video showcases some classic mistakes every beginner interpreter should know their way around:

False Attribution. In a misleadingly confident voice, the interpreter renders President Biden's words "it will be a war of choice" as "это будет та война, в которой мы будем участвовать по собственному выбору," in essence making him say the USA is willing to participate in the war. If this were a story from A. Falaleyev's course, it would have ended with something like "on that same day, the guy was shamed out of the profession, and soon after committed suicide / died a lonely drunkard / etc." But this is a real-life story, so you can be assured that this same guy is mistranslating someone else today, in the same gravely confident voice (and if I were Julia Poger, I would finish this sentence with "just because you are not marketing yourself enough"). 

Word-for-word Translation. Here Mokryk cites the example of "false-flag" being translated as "під чужим прапором". I agree, this rendition is less than ideal, and in many cases it makes much sense to interpret "a false-flag attack" as, let's say, "провокація". Nonetheless, "під чужим прапором" seems to have become an established figure of speech. Come to think of it, it sounds quite natural, and is quite difficult to substitute in many situations, so I'd rather abstain on this one.

False Friends. When interviewed by an international journalist, Volodymyr Zelenskyy (sorry for the official shitty spelling) has mistaken "ambitions" for "амбіції". Mr. President, she actually meant "прагнення"... But there's no one to give him a hint, and the entire answer is led astray.

What's Mokryk's conclusion? One should master foreign languages and check the original in case there's something suspicious in the translation. Actually, there's one more solution, which he shows without much comment: Mr. Zelenskyy on an official visit to the USA, accompanied and interpreted by our esteemed colleague from Kyiv—easily recognizable even when wearing a mask. Open / Comment

2021-12-04 11:27:12 ​​Irresistible Lure

"Next time a DHL package is delivered while we are interpreting, could you please abstain from unwrapping it right in the booth?"
"Yes, dearest boothmate, next time I'll surely do as you say. But this time, when the products arrived straight from France, in stylish black square boxes, smelling of exquisite perfume... How could I possibly resist?"

The enticing products in question were creative covers for my B&O Beoplay A9. Now my childhood dream has come true: I finally have a perfect set of equipment for listening to Радіо "Промінь" (Channel 2 of the Public Broadcasting Company of Ukraine). Seriously: each morning, starting from 6 am, they play a set of wonderful energizing music with no comments or commercials, which seems like a very good reason to wake up earlier. If I'm in the mood for a run (or have leave for work early), I can listen to it outside, using a headset. Otherwise, I'll just stay in the room enjoying my morning cup of tea with some decent songs old and new.

Indeed, B&O and Skiniplay know how to impress, and Промінь knows how to consistently deliver inspiration for decades. Let us be like them. Open / Comment

2021-11-21 10:02:32 ​​RIP Kyiv Post!

This month has been rich in sad news, but here's an update that truly struck me dumb: an awesome newspaper has died. Or should we say "the most awesome newspaper in Ukraine"? Because Kyiv Post truly had no equal.

I can vaguely recall our first encounter: back in my secondary school years, a classmate brought a copy to the English class having come back from Kyiv. The newspaper was so classy, so glossy, so sophisticated—no less mesmerizing than the charming city it came from! Someday, I'd travel to that majestic city, too. In the meantime, I was happy to hold that little slice of Kyiv in my hand.

A couple of years later, when I already had a computer at home and could read Kyiv Post on my screen, I found out they sometimes offered free guided tours of the capital's center. In English! That was the first time I travelled to Kyiv on my own, and I enjoyed the experience thoroughly.

Fast forward 10+ years. The majestic city became the place I live in. And Kyiv Post was there for me: a good many of conference venues—and airlines alike—always had some free copies, to which I'd gladly treat myself on my way to or from work, to or from Ukraine... My main takeaway was simple yet profound: being born and raised in Ukraine should not be an obstacle to writing in exquisite, flamboyant English. Hence this channel came to life.

But now, as the crackdown on free press has spelled the doom of this immense source of inspiration, I find myself speechless. So let's just finish by quoting a song by Jars of Clay, my favorite band:

Raise a glass for ignorance,
Drink a toast to fear
The beginning of the end has come
That's why we all are here
Strike up the band to play a song
And try hard not to cry
And fake a smile as we all say goodbye
Goodbye Open / Comment

2021-11-16 09:45:09 ​​Let's Slam Together!

Years ago, I used to write and recite (or recite and write?) slam poetry, winning prizes—and some actual money!—in both of my native countries. Gone are those days... And still, working on my speaking skills, broadly understood, keeps coming up on my agenda.

This Saturday, on November 20, I'm graduating from a certain course. The graduation day includes reciting a poem together with other amateurs I shared the course with. Needless to say, I chose a slam poem—and the craziest one at that! :) 

If you are in Kyiv, you are free to come and listen to us reciting (4 pm, contact me for the exact location; it's easy to get there). Technically, you're supposed to have your COVID-19 certificate, but actually no one seems to give a flying syringe. 

Caution: the place is quite welcoming and attractive. You may be lured into taking some course, too. Open / Comment

2021-11-08 10:02:47 ​​Weird Fun

"Can you do a dictation for me? Please?"

It's been over 5 years since she's gone. I mean, literally, gone from this dismal world that failed to embrace her cheerful, ebullient nature. But the page is still there, carefully stored in a box of personal effects somewhere in Vinnytsia—in neat handwriting, sprinkled with the cutest of mistakes, with my girlfriend's name solemnly inscribed in the corner. 

Having some weird fun together fosters the strongest bonds between people. However, this particular kind of fun—albeit in a less intimate form—keeps happening here in Ukraine on an annual basis. I mean the All-Ukrainian Radio Dictation of National Unity. This year, as usual, it's scheduled for November 9, and if you know the language, I encourage you to take part.

The reasons to participate abound, including the already mentioned weird fun, and a slight chance to revisit some grammar rules, keeping one's skills from growing stale. Let's not fool ourselves into thinking one short dictation can produce any serious progress in any person's knowledge. Yet, as the numbers and years pile up, the initiative can have a truly profound effect, instilling in the general public the very idea of polishing one's language skills, and doing so for the right reasons. What are those right reasons? I believe they are: feeling the beauty of the language, respect for fellow language users, and the joy of learning so innate to human nature. 

In 2021, the text is going to be authored and read by Yurii Andrukhovych. This fact alone is enough for me to join. I first met Yurii in Wrocław back in 2009, when he voted for my slam poetry performance in a bar, thus helping me win the cash, some of which I gladly spend on his concert the very next day. Later, in 2011-12, his son and I shared the joy of studying at the University of Warsaw. Much later, in 2021, when Yurii's daughter won the Women in Arts Award in literature, I interpreted at the awards ceremony; Sophia herself was absent for health reasons (which had an unexpected upside: unlike me, she didn't have to listen to Ms. Zabuzhko's relentless self-bragging). In short, their whole family keeps producing awesome feelings, both for me and for thousands (millions?) of other people worldwide.

Finally, there's one more reason to participate: the whole thing is happening over the radio, which always redoubles the magic. 

None of us is here forever. Let's enjoy the weird fun while we still can. Open / Comment