daily prompt: ready set go [versión español]

a goal of mine is to work on developing my translation skills. translation of three things: literature, news sources, and audio material (speeches and real live conversations), too.  my spanish teacher gave me a book of short stories to translate (both from english to spanish and spanish to english). so, literature – covered. one could spend HOURS translating one piece to ensure that the style fits the language it is being translated into. but today’s daily prompt is the perfect opportunity to get myself translating. and translating quickly.

here’s my attempt at translating news sources. ten minutes. one news article. one draft. here goes nothing.

abogado de las bebidas: el limite de las bebidas en Nueva York es malo para el público:

NUEVA YORK – el limite del tamaño de bebidas de azucar en una infringement extraordinaria en la elección que tienen los consumidores, dicce un abogado para la Associación de Bebidas Americans y otros criticos en el corte este miercoles. Opponentes tambien tienen preguntas de justicia racial mientras está restricción llega al corte.

la branch del estado de nueva york de la associción para el advancimiento de las personas de color y la federacion hispanica han unidos la esfuerza de los que procesan las bebidas en parar los efectos de la reglar pleanado para tomar efecto el 12 de marzo.

los criticos estan atacando lo que llaman una regulación inconsistente y indemocratico, mientras officiales de la ciudad y expertos de la salud la defendan como una manera de luchar contra la obesidad.

[los de nueva york no queieren que aliguen les diga lo que deben beber], dijo el abogado James Brant al justice Milton Tingling del corte supreme estatal de Manhattan.

La problema es compleja para los advocates minoridades.

10 minutes stops here. i didn’t get through more than four paragraphs of this article. i have italicized words that i couldn’t come up with during my speed write. i’m posting this now for the sake of the prompt. but i will most likely come back here and edit, add, and republish. translation is tough.

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DREAMS: hilarious ones.

i’m dreaming in spanish again (wahooo!). last night’s dream was fantastically hilarious. part of me wishes it could actually happen, most of me is glad it never will.

picture me in a red dress and a heinous pair of floral clogs. i am supposed to be resembling a young blonde comedian. but i’m a brunette, 15 years younger, and when she steps into the room to introduce herself i don’t recognize who she is. she is offended. i’m pacing around what resembles a green room along with 15 other people – some of who i recognize as friends, others who i’ve never met. i’m not really talking with anyone and i’m pretty sure most of the conversations i’m having with myself are half in english, half in spanish. our pictures were hanging on the wall like we were in a museum. and then i realize out what is really happening.

we are about to go on stage for a comedy show. yes, ME. about to give a stand-up routine to a LARGE audience. and by a large audience i mean an ARENA FULL OF PEOPLE in TEXAS. as we parade out into the arena (i for some reason am still in the dress and the heinous clogs, everyone else has changed into normal street wear), a larger than life man (picture a michelin man float) is reading a poem to the audience as we all line up to give our routines. in the green room i drew the number 15 –  i would be the last to perform. great – i get to watch everyone else make the crowd laugh as i ponder my unplanned five minute routine. then it hits me – i will do a mockery of my life, walking through the hysterical ins and outs of my everyday life. recounting stories of things that only happen to me (this would be totally possible, by the way. and hysterical). this will get the crowd for sure.

and for some reason i come to believe that the audience is full of people who speak spanish. i MUST get their support, i think. i will win this comedy contest by connecting with the spanish speaking audience. (all of this planning is happening while my competitors re-do their routines from our last show -we were a traveling troupe, i guess). in spanish i would introduce myself and share my plan. i was going to convince them to laugh when i told them to. [cuando yo les digo que se rien, tienen que reirse aún si no les he contado un chiste]  i would have the audience in cahoots and i would without a doubt win the competition.

i woke up before it was my turn to go up to the mike. thank god. but i did get to see quite a few contributions from my troupe-mates and they were hilarious.

today is monumental.

I woke up with a ear to ear smile this morning. First of all, I had one of the best nights of sleep since I’ve been here; I hit the hay early last night (12am) and didn’t wake up until about 10:30am. Second of all, for the first time EVER, I had dreams completely in Spanish. I’ve had dreams before where I would mumble Spanish phrases here and there or dreams where I would have short introductory conversations; “Hola, ¿cómo estas? ¿Cómo te llamas? ¿De dónde sos?” etc. But last night I dreamt that I was on vacation and I needed to go to the doctor for something. I walked into the clinic to find the nurse on duty really struggling to breathe; he was really distraught and couldn’t answer any of the questions I was asking him. When I finally got him to admit that something was wrong, he showed me a number to call for medical help. I made the call and (in Spanish) was able to communicate what his symptoms were, where we were and the fact that we needed help immediately.

I don’t remember the exact words or if there was more of a story line before of after my visit to the doctor’s office. But I am excited about that fact that I am dreaming in my second language – a sign, if not of proficiency, at least a sign of my love for this wonderful language in which I am so happily immersed.

cuentos de la cubana; aventuras en argentina.

Please forgive me for my lack of recent updates; I’ve been having a hard time figuring out how to share all of my cultural experiences with people who are thousands of miles away. I’ve also been incredibly busy and trying to soak up every bit of culture while it is right at my fingertips. I’ve accumulated a bunch of anecdotes of life here in Argentina and tried my best, to little avail I feel, to share them with you all here. Please, if nothing else just LAUGH. With me or at me, just laugh.

¿Sos colombiana? ¿Sos brasilera? ¿Sos mexicana? ¿Sos venezolana? ¿Sos puertorriqueña? ¿Sos cubana? I know my Spanish is progressing, although I am nowhere near perfectly fluent, because this is a relatively accurate account of the series of questions I get when I first meet someone. I am often told that I speak with some sort of rhythm; as if my words are dancing out of my mouth, something the Cuban’s as well as other Central American’s tend to do. When I finally give in and tell these new acquaintances that I am from the United States, questions usually follow along the lines of ‘Do you have Latino parents or relatives?’… ‘No? Well then where did you learn your Spanish?’… ‘Where did you get your Central American accent?’ Most are shocked when I explain that I have studied Spanish for about seven years and have learned a majority of what I know in an academic setting. With each and every colloquialism that I pick up, I’m getting closer to tricking people into thinking I’m Argentine.

NO ONE voted for the president, but somehow she got elected. I am living in Argentina during a pivotal time in their political history. On August 14th they held a set of obligatory primary elections (fines supposedly imposed for those who don’t vote). 2011 is the first year they have held these national primary elections which, according to the majority of Argentine’s who I have spoken to reveal how the actual elections will turn out. In order to avoid a runoff election in October, the winning candidate, most likely Christina, will have to hold at least 45 percent of the vote or 40 percent of the vote and 10 points lead over the closest contender. With Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner holding about fifty percent of the primary votes of the country this country will likely see another term with a woman in office; a somewhat unpopular woman, as far as everyone I’ve talked to is concerned. The likelihood of any of the other hundreds of political parties coming even close to 30 percent of the nations support would be almost impossible. My host mom made a comment the other day about Christina being in office to the effect of ‘I don’t know how she won because NO ONE voted for her’. It’s been really hard for me to grasp this concept; the fact that someone who received no votes can be elected. Somehow, in this country it has managed to happen. One thing is for sure, it had nothing to do with intoxicated voters; see below.

Don’t drink and vote. The first ever primary elections took place a couple of weeks ago, Sunday August 14th. From around 8pm on Saturday night until late Sunday night, stores are not allowed to sell alcohol. This happened again in the capital of Mendoza province, Ciudad de Mendoza, where I live this past Sunday as they held separate elections for the mayor of the city (even the locals don’t know why they have two different voting days). I had no idea that these mayoral elections were taking place and was confused when the beer display at the front of the store was wrapped in caution tape. It almost seems to me that they monitor drinking and voting here in Argentina more than they do drinking and driving – I saw a man drinking out of a liter of Quilmes at a stop sign as I was walking home one night last week.

There are no lines at stores in the United States, right? As we jumped behind four or five carts in line at the grocery store one day last week, my host mom asked me a question that caught me incredibly off guard. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself when she asked me, as to confirm something she had heard before or seen on TV or in the movies, oh so seriously if we had to wait in lines at stores in the United States. I had to try to explain to her that yes, indeed we too have to wait in lines, and yes, sometimes they are long, and no they do not just have unlimited cash registers to open up to avoid said lines.

Getting a job in the United States is based solely on what you know, not on who you know, right? I don’t know who brought this rumor to Argentina but I once found myself chuckling as my host mom and a couple of her friends tried to explain to me how important connections and contacts are as far as getting a job in Argentina is concerned. After they explained all of the politics of the job market, they asked me ever so seriously, “Pero no es así allá, en los Estados Unidos, ¿no?” Luckily I had prepared myself because I knew it was coming, “It’s not like that in the United States, is it? I tried to let them down as easily as I could and I explained that yes, it truly is, and I am afraid it always will be “Who you know, not what you know”.

Take a number and take a seat. And bring a book, a LONG one. I had to ‘run’ to the bank the other day to pay some fees in order to get my student visa. I needed to run some other errands downtown and my host mom was headed there too so we hopped on the bus together and after taking passport pictures, I headed to the bank. Thinking I could just hop in line and pay the 30 peso fee, I told her I would meet her back at her bank as soon as I was finished. I walked up to the counter to ask one of the bank staff if I could pay these taxes here at the bank. When he responded enthusiastically, “Si, los puede pagar acá” (Yes, you can pay them here), I for some reason thought that ‘acá’ was referring to this counter I was standing at. I thought I could pay these taxes right then and there. I thought, wow that was easy, I can’t believe I didn’t have to wait behind ANYONE in line. Little did I know his ‘acá was actually referring to the bank in general. He chuckled a little and then told me to grab a number and take a seat. As I looked at the waiting area which resembled an airport gate three minutes before boarding, I doubted that all of the people were waiting for the tellers just as I was. Then I looked at the number I had just pulled; it read 274. I held my breath and crossed my fingers then looked up at the panel on the wall at the front of the bank; it read 105. Optimistically hoping that there was an error with the panel or that they had to insert a new roll of numbers and we would magically skip to 200, I took a seat. After about 30 minutes, good people watching and a few good chuckles to myself, I quietly rose from my seat and RAN out the front doors of the Banco Nacional Argentina.

Don’t quit your day job. I’m taking an Improvisation class in the theater department at la Universidad Nacional de Cuyo. There are no words to describe this class and the fact that I’m clearly a misfit; except for maybe HYSTERICAL. Each week we have to present trabajos prácticos or short skits that we put on for the class. My argentine theater debut was a short skit that was to combine multiple artistic ‘languages’ as they are called; music, dance, theater, painting, etc. Our group decided to do a mixture of song and dance; through song and dance we identified each person’s individual interests and then came together at the end with a song and a short verse of poetry that united us all. Let’s just say I’m no actress, I’m no singer, and I’m no dancer. And although I’m having fun, my cheeks definitely got red when the professor said to our group, “Si hemos aprendido algo hoy, hemos aprendido que hay algunas personas quienes no actúan bien, otras quienes no cantan bien, y otras quienes no bailan bien. Lo que tenemos que hacer es improvisar con lo que tenemos y elegir y distribuir roles que nos sirve mejor”. [Translation: If we’ve learned anything today, we have learned that some people can’t act, some people can’t sing, and some people can’t dance. What we have to do is improvise with what we have and learn to choose roles for the members of our group that fit each person’s talents best.] Don’t expect to see my face on the big screen or to see me to be walking the red carpet ANYTIME soon.

Horoscopes tell all. Since I’ve been here in Argentina, I’ve been asked countless times what sign I am. I’m an Aires. Which means, according to my astrology savvy Argentine friends means ‘tengo mucho carácter’ which basically means I’m a lot to handle. As if I didn’t know that already. I can’t tell the number of times people have told me who I get along best with, who my astro-spirit clashes with and how I am as a person in different areas of my life. I wish I could fully believe everything they tell me, but for some reason I’m not fully convinced – probably the fact that I’m an Aires. It is interesting and slightly comical to see how people make assumptions and truly believe they can understand the ins and outs of the universe based simply on astrology.

I doubt many of you made it to the end of this extremely long and excessively divergent (you can blame my Aires spirit for that) post. However, if you did (bless your heart), before you go on with your day, take a second to find a joke in language other than your first. Send that puppy through Google translator and have a good laugh. As I have found, there is nothing more rewarding than laughing in a foreign language.