Saturday, November 19, 2011

Translation Services

This is a story that I've been waiting to blog about for a few months, because I've been waiting for the final chapter to unfold, which it did last night.

SCENE 1 (Late August 2011) -- Courtyard of the Quad at AOSR. 
It was late afternoon, and I was finishing up some things at school and headed to the bus to go home.  I'm about to exit campus when I see a young Chinese girl being huffy with her father.  I comment, in Chinese, because I assume they are Chinese, that I used to be just like her with my father.  The father turns around and starts talking to me in RAPID fire Chinese and stuffs some papers in my face and I figure out it has to do something with enrolling his children into the school.

I walk the family over to the main office building and find the admissions officer, who has already tried talking to the father that payment of tuition doesn't mean entrance into the school, that there is an actual application process involved.  However, the previous conversation between the English speaking admissions officer and the Chinese speaking father had gotten little of this point across.

Now here we were again, but this time I'm playing interpreter.  Chinese to English and vice versa.  Turns out, as I learned, is that the family has a son (L) who has been at AOSR for six years and is entering 6th grade.  The son was with us.  The daughter (G) was enrolled at AOSR back in Kindergarten and has been back in China for the past four years and speaks NO English.  Dad was trying to enroll G into the school by communicating through L.  L, being a 5th grader last year didn't understand what he was doing (and rightly so) and was doing everything though his teacher.  As you might expect, lots was lost in communication and transit and the admissions office didn't speak with Dad about G.

Those papers Dad was sticking in my face was were faxes confirming the school had accepted two 8,000 Euro wire transfers, which the Dad thought was payment for the first semester for both his students.  The school took the money thinking is was the entire years payment for L.  This is where the big miscommunication happened.  Once we got that sorted out, it was back to square one and Dad still wants G enrolled in 4th grade.

BUT, the 4th grade for the fall is oversubscribed and there aren't any spaces available.  The admissions officer says this but couches the excuse with "there is an application process" and "you just can't buy your way into the school" and "G doesn't have language ability in English".  So, the compromise is, enroll G in an English immersion program for the fall, and see if a space opens up in the Spring.  As the paperwork is being filled out, G's birthday turns out to be 2001, which is actually a 5th grade birthday.  We unravel that one of the miscommunications is that L, the brother, kept saying that G was trying to get INTO 4th grade, but meant to say, she had FINISHED 4th grade.

Well, lo and behold, the 5th grade, expands from two to three sections and there was space for G.  And just like that, all the arguments about why the school couldn't take her are out the window, and the money is accepted as G's first semester tuition payment and welcome to our newest 5th grader.  (Sketchy, I know).

The Dad is incredibly grateful to me and the next day brings me a huge beautiful plate (and gifts for EVERYBODY) and invites me to dinner. 


THOROUGHOUT THE FALL
The school has a HUGE proportion of students that are Italian-Chinese.  The parents, usually merchants, don't speak English or Italian and so simply pay the tuition and send their kids, but the school is NOT serving these parents.  Communication is done in only English and Italian, so these parents simply don't know or are isolated.

But now, the teachers know that I speak Chinese and throughout the fall, I'm called on to help translate with parents.  I've made phone calls from the nurses office to tell parents to get their kids glasses and even had to try and tell a Chinese mother that he should have his kid tested for diabetes.

SCENE 2 (November 18th, 2011 at school)
G's fifth grade teacher calls a parent conference with the Dad and asks me to translate.  The briefing from the teacher is that G, is incredibly smart, but seems to be neglected at home.  There is little love and affection for this girl and that anytime it is shown to her, G soaks it up.  I've noticed it too, that when I see her on campus, she runs to me, hugs me and won't let go.  The reason for the tardiness of this meeting is that Dad has been out of the country since the first week of September and G and L were theoretically living with her mother, although that has been called into question.  After the meeting, Dad asks me to come to dinner.  I'm free, so I say yes.  He tells me to meet him at 730 at a place in Rome's "Chinatown."

SCENE 3  (November 18th, 2011 at an Italian Restaurant)
I show up about 15 minutes late to the address given to me and I'm whisked away in a huge Mercedes.  I'm thinking I'm going to dinner with the family at a Chinese place.  Nope, we park and enter a very fancy Italian restaurant.  And we're NOT with his family, but I'm one of seven people at the table.  On my side is myself and two other Chinese men in their late 40's, early 50's.  On the other side, three 20 something Chinese girls.  At the head of the table Dad.  I know I'm in for an evening.

The food starts rolling and it's very high end.  LOTS of seafood, in fact EVERYTHING was seafood.  I slowly but surely start unraveling the stories of the table.  First and foremost, I learn what Dad does.  He, like most Chinese in Italy are from Wenzhou in China.  Dad came to Italy about a decade ago and started and import/export business.  He established his family here but a few years back, he started doing all his business on the China end and so lives the majority of his time in China, while his family is here.  One of the other men at the table (both work and have stores and businesses here in Rome) revealed at at the peak of the economic boom a few years back, Dad was selling about 10 containers of merchandise A DAY for a few years in a row.  Dad is LOADED, and it was revealed he more than a few homes in Italy.  That is nothing to say about what he owns in China.

Then there was the drinking.  Being a guest I couldn't say no to the wine (by the way even I know he had bottles of very expensive wine....Brunello from Montalcino, and the table finished 5 bottles) and was toasted constantly.  I strategically always kept wine in my glass but he would make me finish it and then refill.  By the second course, I had to claim that I would throw up if he kept making me drink.  It actually kind of worked.

The men started asking me about my wife.  I told them I was single and left it at that.  But they didn't leave it at that.  They kept hounding me, asking me if I wanted a Chinese girl or a white girl, and if I did, to contact them for a set up.  This lasted on and off for about 15 minutes until I came up with a brilliant plan.  I told them I had gotten divorced just before I moved to Italy in 2009.  They asked me about her, and I was vague, telling them we were together only for a short time and that's why we didn't have kids.  So, any girl out there want to play my fake ex-wife?

Another crazy thing was these three young women.  One is a business woman from Taiwan.  The men kept ragging on Taiwan and making this woman chug wine all night.  They clearly were trying to get her drunk.  This Taiwanese girl spoke English and translated for me when I needed it.  I needed translation because the accent and dialect these men speak was at times incomprehensible to me.  I would be able to understand some, but some words I had no idea. 

But, at one point, one of the other two girls finds out I speak Italian (or a bit) and it turns out SHE is 22, and was sent to live in Italy by her parents at 15 and speaks fluent Italian. We share stories, she's impressed by my Italian and how after only 2 years I know 50x more than these other Chinese men who have been living here for over 5 years.  We start dishing on the guys in Italian and there are times when she translates the dialect for me directly into Italian.  So here I am, getting some Chinese dialect translated for me into Italian.  There were times when I was going back and forth between Chinese and Italian for minutes at a time.  It was AWESOME.  I was on fire.  The amount of wine I had probably was a big help.

So Dad then starts BRAGGING about how much he can drink.  He says that back in China he drinks three times every night.  He has an early dinner, a late dinner and then when they go out "kariaerka".  I was like "what?" and then it dawns on me he says "karaoke" because he mentions that the "kariaerka" in Italy is old and not fun.  I'm fearing at this point that my evening is going to continue with karaoke and drinking, but the two non Taiwanese girls make an exit.  Then the party breaks up and I'm offered a ride home in the big black Mercedes.  I, however, decline, when Dad reveals to me as we're walking up the stairs that he's had a great deal to drink.  I know, I saw it.  I tell him it's easy for me to walk to the bus and catch it home.  And for those of you who know me, and drinking, yes, I DO nod off on the bus home.

However, Dad says in parting to me, that next time, dinner will be at his home and it will be Chinese food.  I think I have to say I'm looking forward to it.





2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Great story telling, Ernie, fake divorcee etc. Glad to see your Chinese language are put in good use in Italy - of all the places.

Dad

mbh said...

I'm so glad to hear how this turned out after hearing scene 1 during my visit. Do send an update if you ever head over to his house for dinner.