Lost in Translation

I spent Christmas with my family in South Carolina. As always, it was a wonderful time. This year was even better. Why? To make a long story short, my cousin Eric married a woman from Brazil. Due to visa issues, she was unable to come live with him in the U.S. for the past 3 years. She has been living in her small village with her 2 teenage children from a previous marriage, and their new baby girl, Analisa.

This year, right before Christmas, they were finally able to come to the United States. Right before all of this happened, my mother found Eric—who was out of work for years—a good job at her hospital down south. He made plans to leave Boston and move there immediately. Eric and his Brazilian family had less than a week to fly to South Carolina from their respective locations, find a place to live, and acclimate themselves to a very different environment. Did I mention none of the children speaks a word of English and they'd be expected to start high school in January?

My mother knew this was going to be a difficult transition for all of them. She helped look at houses/apartments, buy furniture, chauffeur, and much more. She also invited the whole family over to have Christmas dinner with us so they wouldn't feel alone. Eric's wife Maria spoke English very well, so hopefully she could translate for the kids. Not wanting them to feel entirely left out, my mother looked up dozens of phrases in Portuguese so that she could talk directly to the kids a bit. She also printed out Portuguese labels for each of the food dishes, so they would know what they were eating.

Bless her, she really was trying.

I admired her thoughtfulness and wanted to help. I downloaded an English to Portuguese translation app on my smartphone and we decided to give it a try. My mother spoke several phrases into the microphone, and it returned with Portuguese translations, which we wrote down. Things like:

"What would you like to drink?"

"Would you like more turkey?"

"White meat, or dark meat?"

"Leave room for dessert!"

Having written down the portuguese translations, I instructed my mother to speak them back into the microphone, and verify that we had them correct.

"Why don't you try 'what would you like to drink?'" I suggested.

In her best accent, my mother began her butchery of the language.

O que você gostaria de beber?
Hanking, wanking, salamandar!

After 10 minutes of gut-wrenching laughter, she tried again. 

O que você gostaria de beber?
Mother of booklets!

Another 10 minutes of cackling. I suggested she try another phrase—"How about 'Would you like some turkey?'"

Gostaria der ter a turqueria?
Take it outside, Turk!

Gales of laughter.

Gostaria der ter a turqueria?
I'm getting angry now!

"How can this be?!" My mother howled, wiping tears of laughter away. "I'm saying it just like it's written!"

"You're an idiot." My father interjected. "Let Josh try it. He'll do it right."

My mother handed me her sheet of Portuguese and the smartphone.

I've taken several years of Spanish class. I thought that might better prepare me for the task, but I was wrong. I took a deep breath and tried "Do you prefer white meat, or dark meat?" 

Você prefere carne branca ou escura carne?
The Cookie Monster lives in Berlin?

More hysterics.

Você prefere carne branca ou escura carne?
Hacker boys, upload your photos!

"What the hell are you guys doing?" My brother barked. "Let me try."

I gave him the phone and translated phrases. He tried his hand at "Would either of you like gravy?"

Ou iria-vos como molho?
Terrible youtube dragons!

Cackles all around.
 
Ou iria-vos como molho?
Would you like a punch?

It got better and better as the day went on. At one point my father gave it a try and came up with Would you like lampshades made of feet?

We decided it would be best not to talk directly to the children for fear of what we might say. It made for a classically awkward family dinner. But when Silent Night came on the radio, we couldn't help giggling at one another.