Big Apple Translation
Jerry Fletcher
Consultant Messaging Master, Int'l Professional Speaker, I find the words and graphics individuals and organizations use to become even more memorable and more profitable
Long ago and far away I was part of a multicultural group of young men.
Translation: A bunch of broke 20 somethings from across the globe hung out together in New York in the 60s.
Stefano (Steve to us) hailed from Rome. He had dual citizenship as his father was an American GI during WW2 and his mother was Italian. He got drafted by the US Army and heeded the call. When he mustered out in Hawaii they gave him a ticket back to Rome. He had a stopover in New York, cashed in the rest of the ticket and stayed.
Gilbert, (Gil to the group) was from Jamaica, the island, not the borough. He spoke Spanish and English. He and Steve and I lived together for a while. He was our guide to Harlem, Black and Spanish.
Jaques (Rousseau, so of course we called him Red). One night a Frenchman wandered into the bar on second avenue where we were doing our best to obliterate some pitchers of beer. He asked if he could join us and proffered a pitcher as his ante. He won us all over when he told us he preferred American beer to French Wine. Spoke French, Russian and some Polish.
Dutch Jaques introduced us to the Dutchman who had tired of the drug madness of Amsterdam and was looking for some “old-fashioned drinkers for companions. None of us could wrap our tongues around his name in Flemish so he became “Dutch”
Hakan, the Swede, (pronounced Ho Kun) had been in their army. His tales of cross-country skiing in subzero temperatures versus Steve’s about recon in the jungle were different but oh so similar!
Li Bo-Cheng (everybody called him Bo) our guide to all things Chinese, was a wise-cracking waiter when we first met. The bunch had wandered into the restaurant where he worked with no clue about Chinese food. He liked our easy way with each other and the banter in multiple languages.
Easy access There was nowhere in the city we couldn’t go because we had translators for just about every language that might come up. Learning how to play bocce ball in the dirt floored back room of an Italian restaurant was amazing! Listening to Jazz underground in Harlem was something not a lot of young guys get to do. And understanding the Chinese view of how food must touch on all the tastes was life changing!
What I remember most is the conversations. Every language has sayings that just don’t translate. We wanted to understand each other and so after a while the words and phrases that worked best were the ones we all used. A sentence might start in English add a Russian phrase and end with the lyrical sounds of Jamaica. But we understood each other. Would that the world today could find that kind of understanding.
I’m Jerry Fletcher, strategic messaging consultant and professional international keynote speaker. I find the words and graphics individuals and organizations use to become even more memorable and more profitable. Learn more at my web sites:
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