The Oldest Profession in the World

[soubiri]

The Oldest Profession in the World

by Tim Nicholson - tnichols@sarenet.es
reprinted with permission of the author

My first contact with the world of translation was in Madrid in the 
early 1980s where I was living in a garret flat, my only source of 
income a monthly wad of notes pressed into my hand by an unregistered 
staff member of the Irish embassy at a prearranged venue.

*It was on a balmy evening in late spring that I first met Amaia who 
was working the terraces in the Plaza Mayor. Of course I had seen the 
"palabreras" before, shuffling from table to table offering cheap 
translations, with one eye over their shoulders for the police, but I 
had always avoided entering into conversation with such people. Amaia, 
however, was different. Unlike the others, she held her head proudly, 
and her first words were: "Any of these (she waved a dismissive hand 
in the direction of the other translators on the beat) could do the 
job in half the time and for half of my price, but if you believe that 
quality is worth paying for,I'm the one you're looking for". I had been 
brought up a strict monolinguist, and I was instinctively repulsed by 
her offer, but I invited her to stay for a drink with me.

*After that, we began to meet regularly, though in all the time I knew 
her I never once paid for her to translate for me. Her story was all 
too familiar. She had had a respectable job as a prostitute, working 
in some of the better clubs in the area, but desperation and an ugly 
knife scar across her right cheek had led her into the sordid world of 
translation. Her brother, Javier, sent by the family to Madrid to try 
to rescue her from immorality, had fallen into the same trap. The first 
time I met him I knew from the glazed eyes, ghoulish stare and nervous 
inability to stay quiet that he was a simultaneous interpreter.

*After a change of government in Ireland and a new policy on 
international "diplomacy" even my pitiful income for "information" 
had dried up, and I eventually went to live with Amaia and Javier and 
inevitably to work with them. Despite the apparent misery of our 
existence, they were not unhappy times. I worked mainly as a 
"frilansa", having learnt from my new friends to avoid the agencies, 
which tempted innocent young translators in with promises of steady 
work and careful client control, but which always ended up sapping the 
spirit of even the hardiest, forcing them to work unbelievable hours 
at low pay, and never allowing them the chance to turn down a trick, 
whatever the subject matter.

*

Of course, we were continually hounded by the police, and could not 
afford the back-handers paid by the agencies to keep the Civil Guard 
away. On many occasions I was forced by unscrupulous policemen to do 
free work for them, and on a few occasions even ended up doing court 
translations. Eventually though, my luck ran out, and I spent six 
months in Carabanchel for "comercio linguistico con el agravante de 
estilo libre". Naturally we were deprived of all writing instruments 
in the cell; no paper, no pencils, just an old Apple Mac, sarcastically 
referred to as a computer by the wardens. I found it easier to use 
dried excrement to mark the walls with.

*After Amaia's tragic death, Javier went gradually downhill, working 
first in a cheap agency and then translating computer manuals. When I 
last heard from him he had become a lawyer.

*I drifted north to the Basque Country. On her death bed, Amaia had 
asked me to visit her parents but not to tell them how she had spent 
her final years, and when I eventually found them, a poor but proud 
family of sheep farmers, I assured them that she had managed to get 
away from the world of translation and had been working in a strip 
club near Cuatro Caminos.

*As for myself, once exposed to the "mundillo" of professional 
linguistics, I could never escape. These days, Spanish law is more 
lenient towards us.

The revised Penal Code practically legalises translation, stating in 
the preamble that "...while the practise is generally considered vile 
and repulsive, [...] and condemned by many religious groups, it is our 
opinion that it is a necessary evil, and that no attempt on the part 
of the legislators will ever succeed in entirely ridding society of the 
practice.

*We also consider that legalisation of translation may help to ensure 
that it is carried out under better and more salutary conditions".

*I am always heartened by the support of LANTRA*. Who would have thought 
just a few years ago that so many people from all over the world would 
be

prepared to stand up in public and admit "I am a translator".

* Editor's note: LANTRA-L is one of the best translators list available on the Internet.
For more information go to: http://www.geocities.com/Athens/7110/lantra.htm

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