No Peanutsistas! will recall our February 18, 2014 post “Expo 2015 in Milan – La gioia di stare al ribasso! [Expo 2015 in Milan – The Joy of Undercutting the Market!] in which No Peanuts! revealed the pitiful rates translation agencies like Translated.net, Asap S.r.l., and Eurostreet were offering to translators for Expo 2015-related projects (despite the fact that the Expo’s tender for translators provides relatively generous fees to agencies themselves).
Thanks to what has become the “best practice” for Italian translation agencies — farm projects out to non-native-speaking IT>EN translators and pay them badly — below are some examples of what Expo 2015 is getting for its money. The theme of the Expo, just as a reminder, is “Feeding the Planet.”
Click on the images to enlarge them.
We couldn’t agree more. “WHY, Milan?” is exactly the right question to be asking.
I’ve been working on a more organized posting plan; Big Red Carpet Nursing is maturing! As am I, so late in life. Both projects remain works in progress, busy guy that I am.
While I absorb blogger lessons, work for a living, keep my ten year-old out of trouble, take out the trash, and all the other random details of modern life, my tentative plan is to focus on nursing education and training posts, my own and others’. I’m a teacher and coach at heart and in practice, so it seems a natural fit. I’m also an avid learner and explorer, which is how I found today’s nursing content:
When I came to England I thought I knew English fairly well. In Budapest my English proved quite sufficient. On arrival in this country I found that Budapest English was quite different from London English. I should not like to seem biased, but I found Budapest English much better in many ways.
In England I found two difficulties. First: I did not understand people, and secondly: they did not understand me. In the first week I picked up a tolerable working knowledge of the language and the next seven years completely convinced me that I would never know it really well, let alone perfectly. Take the 500 basic words that you are supposed to know if you want to survive in Britain. Well, they are far from being the whole vocabulary of the language, as you might expect, but unfortunately you may learn another 500, and another 5000, and yet another 50000 and still you may come across a further 50000 you have never heard of before, and nobody else either.
If you live here long enough you will find out to your great surprise that the adjective nice is not the only adjective that the language possesses, in spite of the fact that in the first three years you do not need to learn or use any other adjectives. You can say that the weather is nice, a restaurant is nice, Mr Soandso is nice, Mrs Soandso’s clothes are nice, you had a nice time, and all this will be very nice.
Then you have to decide on your accent. The easiest way to give the impression of having a good accent or no foreign accent at all is to hold an unlit pipe in your mouth, to mutter between your teeth and finish all your sentences with the question: “isn’t it?” : People will not understand much, but they are used to it and they will get the most excellent impression. Finally, do not forget that it is much easier to write in English than to speak in English because you can write without a foreign accent.
Many foreigners who have learnt Latin and Greek in school soon discover with great satisfaction that the English language has absorbed an enormous amount of ancient Latin and Greek expressions, and they realize that a) it is much easier to learn these expressions than the equivalent English words; b) that these words are usually interminably long and make a simply superb impression when talking to the greengrocer or the milkman because they will be very proud of having such a highly cultured person as a customer.
The first step in my progress was when people started understanding me while I still could not understand them. This was the most talkative period of my life. Trying to hide my limits, I went on talking, keeping the conversation as unilateral as possible.
The next stage was when I began to understand foreigners but not the English or the Americans. The more atrocious a foreign accent someone had, the clearer he sounded to me.
But time passed and my knowledge and understanding of English grew slowly. Until the time came when I began to be very proud of my knowledge of English. Luckily, every now and then one goes through a sobering experience which teaches one to be more humble. Some years ago my mother came here from Hungary on a visit. She expressed her wish to take English lessons and I accompanied her to a school. I enquired about the various classes and said that I was interested in a class for beginners. I received all the necessary information and conducted a lengthy conversation with the receptionist, in the belief that my English sounded vigorous and idiomatic. Finally, I paid the fees for my mother. She looked at me with astonishment and asked: “Only for one? And what about you?”
From How to Be an Alien by George Mikes