Tokyo Post No. 1: Lost in Translation

With apologies to my dear friend Rika who strongly felt the movie was unfair to them, Japanese… I remember though that she was very adamant to hear my honest opinion on both the film and my experience being in Tokyo. This blog is how I would recall my reply was to her—that whatever reference to the movie only hovers on a literal interpretation.

I traveled to Japan upon the invitation of the Global Environmental Forum (GEF), an NGO that had a research on the corporate social responsibility (CSR) practices of Japanese companies all over the Southeast Asian region and I represented the Philippine Business for Social Progress—a well-recognized NGO that advocates CSR. It was my first opportunity to be in that lovely country and also my first to be speaking in a crowd using a simultaneous translation process.

Two hours before the symposium, my host from GEF gave a serious briefing on how the system works and what to expect. I thought it was simple but still endeavored to remember all his tips.

1. Speak in simple straightforward sentences.
2. Absolutely no idiomatic expressions.
3. Adjust the volume of earpiece.
4. Remember the voice of your translator and how her voice flows as she ends her translations.
5. Wait five beats to make sure a translation has ended.
6. Always look at the moderator (who would not be speaking in English!) for visual cues.

And it was not easy!

I had an uncomfortable “lost in translation” moment and went through rough patches the first 20 or so minutes. Thankfully, I sort of winged it thereafter… As I am the type who would prefer looking at the eyes of whoever I am communicating with, maintaining this eye contact, listening to the translator and checking on the cues from the moderator proved to be VERY daunting! The following pictures are odd reminders of how unnatural I was in that situation.

Hmm... adjust the volume and keep the hand off the earpiece, please.

May I look at the audience... but the hand...

May I now look at the moderator... still the hand.

But heck! I think I did well. An article on the symposium came out of a local newspaper and the writer kindly sent me a copy through courier. I do not know much about Nihonggo or katakana (their script) but I think this piece is a good story.

Look ma, no hand!

Have a bag, will travel

Like most women, I also live by this aphorism: a woman can never have too many shoes or too many bags. Carrie Bradshaw is alive in me, just like in you. It does not matter if they are spanking new or segunda manos found in the ukay-ukay. I always believed bags and shoes are tools for expressing both our creative and practical sensibilities. They manifest our personalities more than our consumerist or faddish urges.

Most of my bags have their own stories to tell, from the reason of their purchase to the many (mis)adventures shared thereafter. In this respect, my leather teal bag stands out among the rest. A trusty companion in many of my travels, it has been an object of envy and an easy subject for many a pick-up line.

An object of envy

Incident No. 1: Buckinghamshire, London
I was having tea and some serious conversation with colleagues from Europe and Africa. As we were winding down, the Italian lady gestured towards my feet where the bag was peacefully parked. She said, "Can’t help but notice your beautiful bag. Where did you buy that?" At the end of that girly chat, she shared what seemed an elaborate plan to pass by the Philippines in her future travel to Asia.

The bag, ready to go to bed. At my hotel room in Buckinghamshire.

Incident No. 2: NUS, Heng Mui Keng Terrace, Singapore
On the other side of the table, one of the school administrators was seriously checking the documents I submitted. After what felt like an eternity of silence, she declared everything was in order. When I gathered the rest of my files and stuffed them in the bag, she suddenly had that very big, childlike smile and said, "I love your bag." Then in a split second, her face went back to its former mask. Weird, but a breakthrough in an environment where a staid personality means more credibility.

A subject of pick-up lines

Incident No. 1: On board the Emirates airplane above the Middle East skies
After all the hassle at the Dubai airport, I was so tired I wished to spend the rest of that long flight to London in stillness and silence. After more than an hour of self-imposed catatonia, I decided to pick up my bag and retrieved something. Out of thin air, my seatmate said, "You have such an elegant bag." Then went on and introduced himself as an Indian-American architect. I gathered my manners, said my name and added, "My husband is also an architect. This bag is a gift from him." That it was a pick-up line never crossed my mind until, on a separate occasion, an American program partner told me how gullible I was. Tsk.

The bag taking a seat. At my hotel room in Tokyo.

Incident No. 2: Akasaka, Tokyo, Japan
Before the sake’s spirits have descended, the post-symposium party room was a virtual parting of the Red Sea—the Japanese male executives on one side and women on the other. Two hours later, a flushed gentleman approached me with a courteous bow and said, "I would like to tell you that we were impressed by your presentation. You are a beautiful speaker… Er, that’s a beautiful bag you’re holding…" (Eject button, pls...)

At a museum in Tokyo.
‘Love my bag!