What can I say about being an interpreter that has not already been said? Well, anything really, because it simply seems like there is not a single good book describing the profession. Sure, there are plenty that teach the techniques and more professional aspects of the job, but show me a book that tells you how not to appear under stress when managing the conversation of ten people, what essentials always to have in your bag on the job or how to graciously keep asking the client for more water without appearing too annoying?
You see, I didn’t know any of that right after getting my diploma and waiting for my first job. Always an optimist by nature, I thought I’d just put my details on the register of interpreters and slowly ease into this and learn on the job by picking up small traffic offences, probation appointments and whatever else came my way. Easy peasy, right? Well, I have four words for you:
Crown Court. Child molestation.
This is all I remembered from the first phone call from the listing office one single day after my name was put on the register. Boom. Super excited and nervous, I actually surprised myself by mumbling something about having to check my agenda I didn’t even have at the time. My tips for accepting the first booking? Cover the speaker with the palm of your hand, stare blankly at the wall in front of you and slowly count to six before getting back on the line and tell them you can do it. Count to three and they know you’re a newbie and faking it; count to eight and you sound like one of those permanently overbooked pricks – maybe even sporting a man bun – who makes it look like a huge favour they accepted the job and then nobody wants to call you back. That, and 6 is also a nice and lucky number. Not mine, but definitely somebody’s. That’s ‘how to fake being professional’ version 2.0 for you. I should write a blog, I know.
Anyway, back to the end of that phone call. I was feeling hot and my mind was in a flurry now, going back and forth in a shouting match with the rational part of my brain, reminding it that we were supposed to take it easy and learn on small jobs first and why did I even accept the thing, we were supposed to be a team after all and there’s no ‘I’ in team but there’s two in ‘idiot’, is it Court clark or Clark (as in Clark Kent) and did I even know the address of the place?! You get the idea.
Well, long story short, I ended up going to the job. I know what you’re thinking. The answer is yes – I did have a lighter and a small Swiss army knife (I always carried it around then and only used as bottle opener) on me and ended up being thoroughly frisked from head to toe at the entrance. If I’m honest, I can’t even pass airport security check undetected so what was I expecting anyway?
We’re in. I get directed to the waiting lounge where the victim, a little boy of about 12 is already waiting with his appropriate adult. After introductions the witness care lady sees the boy is visibly nervous and asks if it would put him at ease if Mr. Interpreter *gulp* showed him around? I simply can’t say no and tell him I’m probably more nervous than him and that it was my first time too. My luck is with me today and the lady offers to do the tour herself, so we simply end up following her around the court room where she shows us the witness stand, public gallery and the jury box. She tells the boy (us) to always address the judge in crown court as My Lord and never face away from him or her, which I didn’t even know then. Turns out that instead of making a fool of myself in front of a little boy and having to tell him pork pies I ended up learning a lot of the basics myself.
After that we go back to the waiting lounge and spend another 3 hours sitting around, being occasionally told that ‘any moment now’ we might be called inside to be sworn in. I will learn during the following years that this expression has absolutely no meaning whatsoever in court and is as likely to be true as not being required to enter the courtoom at all that day.
Then, when the small talk slowly dies and the symphony of stomach gurgles and other churning sounds around the room tells us that the lunch hour is fast approaching, we are suddenly told that the victim has pleaded guilty and we are free to go home. Well, that was easy. I give the relieved boy a little hug, get my attendance form signed by the usher and off we go our separate ways.
I thought I’d have to go through it all again on my next and hopefully less serious job. Guess what? I got a three week trial of a gang of thieves at the famous Old Bailey court in London… Shortly before, I watched V for Vendetta which was filmed there and was trembling at the thought of actually getting a shot at working in such a legendary venue.
There were five defendants, one per each interpreter. We ended up chosing our clients at random and, surprise surprise, mine turned out to be the only one with impeccable English who got frustrated with me each time I tried to interpret into his ear during the proceedings, because ‘he spoke it better than me’. The whispers of my interpreting colleagues working around us initially made it a slightly awkward experience, but – as with everything – you just get used to it. At the sentencing the judge joked that he could not tell which one of the two was the interpreter because neither of us had said a word during the three weeks in the courtroom.
What is the moral of the story? Well, definitely fake it till you make it. I was told during my diploma course that I need to appear to know what I’m doing right from day one and always look like I have a busy schedule if I want people to treat me like a seasoned professional early on. Of course, it can occasionally backfire and things will not always go to plan, but this is the beauty of this unpredictable world of ours. Embrace it. A little rush of adrenaline hasn’t killed anyone yet (it probably did, but you get my drift).
You might not even believe me when you read about my two first bookings above, but you just have to take my word for it. The thing is, if you just throw yourself at things with your passion and remain open to learning and making mistakes the world will find its magical way of helping you out somehow.*
*Promise I did not copy the last phrase from a yogi website. If you see it somewhere else though, do let me know – we’ll split the copyright and you may even get a chance to go to court!