LANGUAGE | CULTURE
The Unseen Translator
Walking the delicate tightrope between languages and cultures, unnoticed and unrewarded (sob, sob!)
I slip silently into the room while everyone sleeps, and pluck a jewel from its display case. A split second later, a replica lies in its place. Made from entirely different material, but indistinguishable to the naked eye.
Just as swiftly I exit, without triggering the alarms. No one knows I have been there, not now, nor when a new crowd of visitors troop in to behold the gemstone tomorrow.
I am a cat burglar. I am a translator.
My prize for that skilful switch? Five cents, less tax.
We are paid by the word, which is logical in one very basic sense. If it takes an hour to translate a thousand words, it should take two hours to translate two thousand, right?
Or three point six seconds to replace each one of those gems with a seemingly equivalent impostor.
Because that is the idea: the Spanish curators close the museum at night, and my task begins. I set about replacing every exhibit in the collection, so that when the busload of English-speaking visitors arrive tomorrow, what they see, what they feel and perceive, will be the same as…
