Found in Translation

CHAPTER 5
Partaking in Pleasures and Delighting the Senses in Translation
An act of translation is an act of love.
—George Steiner, European-American author
Cupid Calling
There are those who love to travel, and then there are those who travel to love.
Lonely, middle-aged men, often American, use international dating services to
travel to foreign countries and meet women who are dreaming of a husband—
and a better life abroad. When the men arrive, they are taken to events where
they are introduced to groups of women interested in making a love
connection. When they don’t speak the same language, that’s where I (Nataly)
come in.
I had interpreted for this couple via telephone before. She was in Colombia,
and he was in Ohio. He had visited her three times already. Many of their phone
calls involved her immigration paperwork, as they were hoping to get married
and he needed to bring her to the States on a fiancée visa. When couples start to
get affectionate, I find it hard to convey the same level of enthusiasm they feel
for each other, but I always give it a valiant effort anyway.
But on this particular evening, they were feeling a little more frisky than
normal. I was not even sure how to interpret some of the hints she kept
dropping about what she wanted to do in their next encounter while retaining
the same level of flirtatiousness and sexual innuendo. When I’m on these calls,
I begin to understand why actors say they feel uncomfortable during sex scenes
with all kinds of people watching. I feel like an intruder who has been
mistakenly placed in the midst of an intimate relationship. I guess you could
call it a three-way of sorts, but not the kind that fantasies are made of.
Because they were feeling amorous, they started talking about the next time
they would see each other. He wanted to book a trip to see her in June, so he
asked what dates would be best. “Anytime, baby,” she purred. “I’ll be counting

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down the minutes and you know what I’ll be wearing.” He asked again what
dates would work best for his visit. “Oh, I am all yours. Every last bit of me.
Any day you choose.” She giggled. I had to remind myself not to interpret the
giggle, feeling more than a little ridiculous repeating these words.
But he wanted an exact date. She continued saying that anytime would be
fine. I interpreted essentially the same question and answer over and over, until
I realized what he was really asking—or at least, I thought I knew. “Excuse me,
sir, this is the interpreter speaking. Are you trying to ask what dates would be
best to avoid for the trip?” A sigh of relief greeted my question. “Yes,
interpreter, that’s exactly what I am trying to find out.” I interpreted this
question to her with a knowing voice, hoping she would get the hint, but she
still did not seem to understand. “As I said, baby, I’m yours, any day. Or any
night. Or all night.” I rolled my eyes. Oh, brother. We would need to be more
direct than this. I interpreted it back, nonetheless. Finally, a lightbulb appeared
above his head (or below his belt): “Oh, I know, interpreter! Ask her if she
remembers back in December, how there were a few days at the end of the trip
when we couldn’t, er, say good-bye the way we wanted to?”
I was pretty sure she was not going to understand it this time either. Even
though I know I’m supposed to stay faithful to the speaker and not add
anything, some situations call for an exception. After all, he is paying for the
interpreting services on a per-minute basis. “Elena, do you remember back in
December, when we couldn’t say good-bye at the end of the trip the way we
wanted to?” I added, “…because you were having your period?”
“Any week except the week of the twelfth,” she promptly answered.