Maintained in Translation

Greetings from the Iberian Peninsula! Yes, I am in no other than the lovely land of España, known to us as Spain, in a city called Salamanca.

Don't get jealous, don't get jealous. My reason for being here is not to spend leisurely hours over coffee in quaint cafés, or to enjoy decadent gourmet ice cream while strolling along the Plaza Mayor, or to ascend a centuries-old building to stare in awe at a spectacular view of the city, or to soak up the brilliant sun in pursuit of a tan deeper than the one I was born with. No, don't think that for a minute.

My reason for being here is to get credits for graduate school. I'm doing a month-long summer program, taking classes which will transfer over to credits recognized by my program in the States. My classes are given completely in Spanish, all discussion is completely in Spanish, and of course, our final papers must be written completely in Spanish—which brings me to the topic at hand.

Reading vs. producing
Exactly a year ago today (weird), I wrote a post about reading works in a foreign language and the nuances of meaning that can be lost when those works are translated. I realized that there is also a similar process in producing text in a foreign language.

One of the hardest, yet essential things about learning a foreign language is the ability to think in that language. What beginners do (which is unavoidable) is think in English, and then literally translate into that foreign language to communicate. The process of literally translating is what makes speech and writing awkward and stilted. The key is to get to a point where you are able to communicate in a manner that sounds (and reads) naturally in that language.

For example . . .
Yesterday, the cleaning ladies at the residence where I'm living were spraying the blinds outside with water to clean them. The only problem is that the window wasn't shut correctly and water was leaking into the room where I was sitting. I alerted the front desk guy saying, "Está entrando agua." In natural English, "Water is leaking in." In literal, word-for-word English, "It is entering water." It semi-makes sense, but it sounds weird, wrong, and unnatural.

The same concept applies with writing. Perfect in English: "Matia's feelings of isolation come from the fact that she lost her mother at a young age." Perfect in Spanish: "Los sentimientos de aislamiento de Matia tienen sus raíces en la pérdida de su madre durante su niñez." A little weird if I were to literally translate the former sentence back into English, though: "The feelings of isolation of Matia have their roots in the loss of her mother during her childhood." Again, it makes sense, but sounds a little off. The same would be true if I were to take the very first sentence and literally translate it into Spanish.

Me and Pablo
Thinking in another language in order for your writing to sound natural in that language is a fun and frustrating game. And, (sigh), it's a game that I'm going to have to play long and hard before the month is up. It's not like I'm the only one . . . I suppose I can take comfort in the fact that the Apostle Paul did it too with Hebrew and Greek many centuries ago.