Didn't have too much of a chance to post yesterday after my assignment because I was out late (and I'm going out early this morning - it's 6:20 a.m. here).
This is an idea of what it's like to work through an interpreter:
Me: Out in the middle of nowhere Thailand, on a rubber tapping farm. All around me are

I should preface this by saying that snakes typically come out in this area after a monsoon - and we just had a particularly strong one.
I chase Yun (no easy feat while carrying two camera bodies and a host of notebooks, extra batteries of every kind, pens, rain jacket, toilet paper, plastic bags . . . you get my gist), and behind me is my interpreter.
Interpreter: A pig! Someone saw a pig!
Me, to interpreter: A pig? Not a snake?
Interpreter: A pig!
Me: A snake?
Interpreter: A pig.
Me: (still not understanding why a pig would elicit so much commotion) A pig?
Interpreter: A pig.
Me: A pig (I go running off after Yun, confident that I am in no danger).
15 seconds later.
Interpreter: (sounding alarmed and foolish) JuLIE! JuLIE!
Me: (I stop). Yes?
Interpreter: A snake. Not pig. A snake.
Apparently the words for 'snake' and 'pig' are similar in Thai. Good to know.
Above: Yun after work, as the sun went down.
3 comments:
Time for a new interpreter.
(And I hope you got the shot)
So, does this story end with you finding out what snake tastes like?
(I thought not)
It tastes like chicken.
(Though this might not be of much help to Julie)
Post a Comment