Trauma

 My first thought, on reflecting on my workday today, is that I really want to explore, in order to be an informed individual, the effect of chronic trauma on decision-making, reactions, and reason.  My second thought is that I want to run away screaming from immersion into the world of chronic trauma and how it burns the brain's normal responses and scars people irrevocably.  So, I will ignore the topic until I run into it again, but it will resurface frequently.

The reason this topic popped up is because today I interpreted for a couple whose relationship was really screwed up.  The attorney whisked his client and me to a conference room with the Commonwealth Attorney's representative.  He had told his client that her own charges could be dealt with by taking a parenting class, and so the only pending matter was the charges against her partner.  

The Commonwealth Attorney, a woman in her forties with a kind but commanding presence, asked the client for details about the incident which resulted in the charges against her partner.  The woman's two young children (ages 5 and 8) were in tow, happily perusing the stack of children's books on the conference room table.  The client was almost silent, full of "well"s and "um"s, and looked intently in her lap.  Yes, he had hit her.  Had she been told she couldn't leave or he would hit her?  Yes, she had.  Did he take off any of her clothes?  Yes, he would do that, but this time he had hit her also.  Why would he take her clothes off?  He was jealous, is all.  He wanted to check her to see if there was evidence that she had been with someone else.  Did he touch the older child?  Yes, he grabbed him.  Where?  Here, on the arm.  Did he throw him?  Yes, he pushed him toward the wall.  Has she seen her partner around?  Yes, she has.  Has he had contact with her since this incident?  Yes, some.  How often?  Every week, or, well, once a month.  Did she know that there was a no contact order, and he was breaking it?  Well, um.  What would she like to see happen in this situation?  Well, she has forgiven him.  It is certainly in her power to forgive, but how will she be able to prevent her children from seeing this behavior and thinking it is fine and normal?  Well, it is just really difficult to be alone, with two children, and she can't see a way to make it work; she can't be in that situation.  Does she mean she can't support them financially by herself?  Yes.  Does she know that the Commonwealth Attorney isn't just going to drop the case because she has forgiven him, and she may be required to testify?  Yes.

During this conversation, a woman from the Commonwealth Attorney's office mercifully took the children out of the room and brought them to their aunt, who was waiting for them in the hallway.  The woman did not relax at that point, or share more, or look any less petrified.

And so, the partner, as part of the deal that his attorney worked out for him, received no jail time, and instead was ordered to attend an anger management class.  No restrictions on interaction with the woman except for no "unlawful contact" permitted.

The woman, her partner, and the aunt with children in tow, left at separate times, as both attorneys wanted to debrief with their clients in the hallway.  Several minutes later, I found the woman back in the hallway, looking confused.  Her eight year old (yes, the one who had been thrown against the wall) was not with the aunt as she had assumed, and the aunt had thought he'd tagged along with dad and gone upstairs.  What was he doing upstairs?  Maybe he had another case up there, she said.

What ensued was a 20 minute waste of my time.  I don't know how long the woman had already been searching for her son, but at no point did I see her call the boy's father to ask if he was with him.  When I asked if she had permission to contact him now, she said she didn't know if the court allowed it yet, and it was probably not allowed.  Mercifully, after checking in General District Court, unsuccessfully talking with a bailiff who exerted great effort in lecturing why they couldn't possibly help locate the child, and enlisting the help of the woman's attorney, who still happened to be around, the boy and his dad appeared outside the building, the boy frolicking on the sidewalk unconcerned and the man with no explanation whatsoever.  The woman, who remained quiet the entire time, said never mind, thank you, and left the building.

What evil, sick, demonic, destructive, hellish and poisonous havoc has this one human being wreaked on another human being, so as to render her not only devoid of any self-protection instincts, but also convinced (or obligated) to remain with this piece of *^$^#*, "forgive" him, and say that she cannot do life without him?  What financial straits, what deprivation of family and community and support, must she find herself in to believe that it is better to pay rent and be with him than to flee physical and emotional harm with her babies?  What piece of her brain has been so violated, so fried, so brainwashed, so as to tolerate her own flesh and blood being flung against a wall in a rage of jealousy and then to lose that flesh and blood for upwards of an hour and not be absolutely freaking out, running the halls, calling for him?

And this fascinates and utterly nauseates me.  I'd like to understand it better, but I don't want to go there.  I have been on the sidelines of enough of these wacky scenarios to know that this type of trauma is darker than anything I have personally experienced.  It crushes people and warps families for generations.  It is something that no social worker or judge can adequately address.  It is a trauma that only Jesus Christ the human sacrifice can take on, and it is performed by souls for which only God Almighty has sufficient punishment.

Best decision - for me, for now, in my weakness - is to throw my hands up and say God will have to deal with it all, and walk away.  May God bless every person who is strong enough to go there, with that woman, even with that man, and sear the trauma with the light of Christ.

Gamut

It's been real, y'all.  I finished the consecutive interpreting section some time ago, and today I'm knocking out the last sight translation lesson.  Additionally, I completed the simultaneous interpreting lessons and was dismayed to discover there was a whole bunch of pages after that, all devoted to additional practice of simultaneous interpreting.  It's been helpful yet frustrating; clicking on random court proceedings recordings simulates the environment in which I will not only take my test but also (Lord willing) perform my functions as a court interpreter.  However, the speed is way beyond any lesson presented up to this point.  Often I find myself pacing back and forth in the kitchen, leashed to the laptop by my gaming headphone cord (gaming headphones are the only quality that makes the crappy Acebo recordings intelligible), waving my open steno notebook in one hand and, with my other hand, swirling my pen in little circles as I stumble, jet ahead, reel, scramble, and otherwise clamber to spit out the mercilessly-precise vowels that make mumbling in the target language impossible.  Sometimes, if the recording is easier or slow, I draw back (replegar) the back door curtain with my pen and look unseeing into the yard.  Sometimes I record myself to see how I do.  It's always intriguing to listen to myself in action, something I obviously can never do when I'm really at an interpreting job.  I think, "Wow, I sound like I know what I'm talking about."  Then there are some pauses, some airless jabs at the formation of who knows what sound, then it comes spilling out at ninety miles an hour, sometimes with holes where key words or thoughts might have been.

Regarding fits and starts, I am purposefully practicing KEEP ON GOING.  According to the test description, their recommendation is to "STICK WITH IT" and not get paralyzed.  It bothers me, though, because I have to stop interpreting something and skip.  What about that poor sentence, that thought that never got spat out?  Who's to say that word or phrase wasn't key, and I'd have better luck stammering that out rather than going on to whatever comes next?  It's painful.

Apparently the exam won't be offered until May at the earliest.  That gives me more time to prepare, thank goodness.

I tried to sign up to get a language proficiency assessment at a company I used about three years ago.  They no longer do these assessments to anyone who is not an employee.  I'd really like to get retested; for one thing, it would be nice to know what my areas of weakness are with enough time prior to the oral exam so I can improve my Spanish.  Secondly, I am secretly hoping that my score will be higher than the last time I did this assessment, and this would serve to bolster my confidence going into the oral exam in a few month.  However, other than an expanded vocabulary, I'm not sure I can say my proficiency in Spanish is any greater now than it was three years ago.  I don't know.  I chit chat and have heart-to-hearts much less frequently now than I did then.  It's sort of sad; the more I study, the less connected to my friends and my acquaintances I feel.  A lot of it has to do with the education and proficiency of most of my Hispanic friends, but that is a topic for another day.

Today I read about the word "gamut."  Who knew?

Ha!

That's a defiant, victorious "ha!"

It's been well over a month since my last post.  You might have thought, "She's not going to blog anymore"; you might have thought, "She's probably not keeping up with her studies"; you might even have thought, "She's given up on preparing for the oral exam."

Well, guess what: I'm back!

I took two weeks off in the month of December due to insanity of my part-time job and small events like traveling out of state and celebrating Christmas and New Years.  Whew.  I'm glad it's over.

And, while I had some trepidation jumping back into my lessons (I was worried I had forgotten everything), last week went fine, and this week is proceeding tolerably as well.  While I have several (like 7) lessons to go on Sight Translation, I am about 5 recordings away from finishing the Simultaneous Interpretation, and next week I am scheduled to do my LAST Consecutive Interpretation lesson.  Hallelujah!

This means I am more or less on track to finish the curriculum with enough time for reviewing and fine-tuning before the oral exam in the spring (date to be determined; I'm guessing April, but I really have no idea).  So, ha! I'm still hanging on.

The other meaning of "ha!" is that there are a few words in Spanish that are more precise than in English, and shorter.  I love finding these rare things.  My favorite right now is dolo.  In law we use the English term "criminal intent."  That's two syllables as a return on 5!  Hooray!  My other favorite is corva, which I don't get to use much, but it means "the back of the knee."  Apparently some people use the term "knee pit," which is disgusting.  Corva - you can't get any better than that.  It even sounds pretty!

Another week, done

This week's lessons were real killers.  Strike that - this week's Simultaneous lessons were real killers.  I continue to have the hardest time hearing what the heck some of the speakers are saying, due to the muffled sound and background buzzing.  What made it even harder this week is that the guy talked at 90 miles a minute.  It was only 145 wpm, but it was enough to send me reeling into what has apparently become my characteristic Spanish study mode: per J, I sit, grouchily, in front of my laptop at the kitchen table, mumbling "mmm, nnm, am, namumm," then burst out, "Shut up!  Shut UP!" and start jamming the pause key.

My appointments this week were a mixture of school and medical; I was thankful for the medical appointments, as I feel most satisfied with the outcome of those.  At times I consider putting my legal interpreting stuff on hold so I can pursue my CCHI (Certification Commission for Healthcare Interpreters) or IMIA (International Medical Interpreters Association) certificate first.  Unfortunately, the money is in the legal interpreting arena, and due to the immature/bureaucratic spending practices of a large local medical facility who shall remain nameless, my chances of making a living doing purely medical interpreting are slim to none.

And so I pursue bilingualism in legalese.  I'm getting there.  Next week I plan to sit in on some more court proceedings to absorb the common lingo and get used to procedures.

How to Make Crack Cocaine

I've been learning about different equipment used for making/processing a variety of drugs and the equipment's translations, so I figured I should do a little research.

Here's one step-by-step how-to:
How to Make Crack Cocaine

I still have a lot to learn.

The Bad Words

Just because I haven't posted anything in the last few days doesn't mean I haven't been studying.  Quite the contrary!  I received a belated prize from J earlier last week for completion of the previous week's study goals: new earbuds, as my $5 Hello Kitty ones from Target were on the fritz.  And Sunday I received last week's prize: a package of Twizzlers, which is now almost gone.  A little disgusting, since it's only Tuesday.

"Consecutive Lesson 12: Murder Witness" sounds more exciting than it is, for the most part.  Things like how many drinks were consumed and where illumination of the living room was coming from; stuff like that.  HOWEVER! at the end, the witness repeats some statements she recalls hearing from the defendant.  And I learned some new ways to say some words that I probably otherwise won't get a chance to use.

• Buey (in the context of cheating on your spouse) should just be translated as "ox."  It doesn't have much punch; however, according to Acebo, it's best just to translate it for what it is and be ready to inform anyone who cares that this is a reference to cuckoldry.  And yes, I also had to look up "cuckoldry"; I am familiar with the term, but I didn't have a clue what word we use these days in place of this antiquated, flowery word.  Turns out all we say is "cheat" or "be unfaithful."  Sort of flat.  What I'd like to do is incorporate some more modern form of the word "cuckold" into the English translation of buey in order to capture the deceit aspect of, well, "ox."  Still drawing a blank.
• Puta is a tricky word, because - as is the case for so many Spanish words - you can translate it all sorts of ways.  It can mean anything from "bitch" to "whore" to "working girl" to "prostitute" to "M-F-er," to (as an adjective) "F-ing," "bloody," "appalling," or (sarcastically) "just great."  Well, a lot depends on context.
• "Streetwalker" - in English - means "prostitute."  Somewhere I missed that lesson.  And, in Spanish, the best way to say "streetwalker" in Spanish is callejera, which is a word I commonly used to describe my sister.  She liked to be out and about, at parties, with friends, and not nesting at home much.  Unfortunately, callejera must be recycled to mean "stray," "wanderer," and "out and about."  I often hear males describe themselves as callejeros, but I don't think I've ever heard women use that word to describe their social preferences.  Perhaps it's another one of those words that only the men can use without a sexual connotation (e.g. hombre de negocios).  So unfair.
• There are so many more, but last one for tonight: Eres mas puta que una gallina.  Literally, "you're more of a whore than a chicken [or, more specifically, a hen]."  Are chickens whores?  I have never thought of chickens' sexual behavior; it's an unsettling topic, because the only sex I ever saw chickens engage in was growing up, when I would see the mean rooster jump the timid hen, and, well, that was that.  Would I notice if a hen was slutty or acted with come-on mannerisms?  Was the timid hen actually a slut and I didn't know it?  What did the other hens think about or do?  Did they wish they were the timid ones getting jumped?  Do most people - or Hispanics, at least - think of chickens as highly sexual animals?  We have that thought about, say, rabbits, but that's because of their high litter yield.  I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to understand how the sexual tendencies of a chicken brought about this phrase.  This is where having a non-embarrassable Hispanic girlfriend would come in handy. 

Dolor Aquí

Nothing irritates me more than providers who don't speak in full sentences directly to their patients and instead elect to try out their pigeon Spanish.  How's this for a physical therapy initial evaluation?:

PROVIDER: Tell her she can sit on the mat or on the chair, whatever is most comfortable.
...
PROVIDER (addressing her laptop): Oh no, they didn't give me ICD-9 codes, did they?

INTERPRETER: ¿Ay no, me dieron códigos diagnósticos 9?

PROVIDER: Oh, I'm just talking to myself.
...
PROVIDER: Now, on a scale, um...zero to diez; zero is nada, diez is awful...
...
PROVIDER (helping through some PT exercises): Now...pies...aquí.  And...this...abajo...no, like this. (pushes patient's leg the other way)  And, diez.  (holds patient's leg in one position) Uno dos tres cuatro cinco seis seite ocho nueve diez.  Ok?  Dolor?

I ask myself, why am I here?  I also ask myself, why is the patient here?  The patient might be better served googling "leg pain" and staying at home.

I was also asked by the provider (during the session) if the interpreting company would send a "translator" (yeah, whatever) the day after Thanksgiving.  Will the company just shut down that day, or will they send someone?  Do they need to ask me when I'm available also?

First of all, I'm a contractor, not an employee, so any request for interpretation services is an assignment I can accept or decline.  Secondly, this is an interpreting agency that supplies medical interpreters to hospitals and clinics nationwide, so they're not just going to "shut down" for a holiday, much less for Black Friday.  Thirdly, this is like the second assignment that I've done with this company, so I have no idea how they distribute assignments or if they will even be chosen by this clinic as the interpreting agency of choice for any subsequent assignments.  Quit wasting the patient's time with side conversations.

Of course, this was all preceded by my usual pre-session spiel - please speak directly to the patient, and I repeat everything you say - and the provider's declaration that they were already familiar with using interpreters.  It is always preceded by this.  I regularly interrupt everyone to reiterate they should speak directly with the patient, and occasionally I end up interpreting their "tell him..." and "ask her..." phrases after the providers don't pay attention to my requests so the patient can judge for him/herself whether he/she is being addressed appropriately.  But this is still getting out of hand.  I need to develop more effective ways to limit the time-wasting and non-patient-focused crap that people throw into these appointments.  Ideas, anyone?