The Art of Translation

To me, words have texture, color, temperature, shape, smell, volume, intensity, depth, dimension.... They live and breathe.
The art of translation is to transfer the same texture, the same color, the same ...the same SENSE.

When you say "joy", you should know if it's long term or short term, deep or shallow, and that where it's coming from, where the source is.

Words sometimes do not translate, or translate well. When they don't, the translator should stop, yet do not betray.

If the words are spatial,-in many cases they are, we should make sure the newly created space is having the same environment, the same structure, the same proportion, the same "feel".

But it's always captivating to see how people from two far places of earth, even at different times thought exactly the same or complemented each other's words. That common humanity or wisdom.

The interesting part, we do tranlation all the time, when we talk, when we write and when we listen even in the same language. We translate memories each time we look back at them. We translate thoughts, feelings. We translate people. From our own vocabulary to someone else's and vice versa.

Direction

In this world of all relativity and uncertainty, all I can get is some little checkpoints scattered here and there, if they don’t pass, I know I need to change direction.

god

b: khodafez
b: bye
b:salut
b: ciao
b: bonne nuit
b: shab beh kheir
Helaleh: yesterday something wierd happened
b: hahahahahaha
Helaleh: wait
b: to mesleh filmaieh alfred h. mimouni
Helaleh: i was standing in line in a place called applehill
Helaleh: with my mom
Helaleh: an african/indian crazy looking woman came close
Helaleh: smiling
Helaleh: she hugged me and touched my hair
Helaleh: and said God loves you
b: rast migeh
b: albatteh gheib nagofteh chon god loves anybody
b: vali in ieh signe eh khoshgel va ieh cadeau boudeh baraieh to.....
Helaleh: and i thought to myself,
b: manam in eteghad ro daram va hamisheh in hes ro az to gereftam
Helaleh: but i don't love him!.......................
b: oun aashegheh
b: cheh to doust dashteh bashi cheh nadashteh bashi cheh bekhai cheh nakhai, cheh bedouni cheh nadouni, ....
Helaleh: well,...
Helaleh: it was wierd
Helaleh: hala boro bekhab
b: tajrobeh kardam har vaght in nazaraamo bi pardeh migam zoud tamoumesh mikoni : )
b: to khodeto doust nadari na khoda ro.... fekr kon rajeh behesh...
b: shabet beh kheir MOUKHER
Helaleh: bye
Helaleh: i like moukher too
Helaleh: ok raje behesh fekr miknoam

Role Model

My female generation has no role models. We get to do try and error and define our own paths. We started as we did not know what it takes or how hard it is. In the middle of the way we did not know if there is light at the end of the tunnel. We had to once again question everything, and do not take anything as a clear answer. Our mothers were devoted. But did not prepare us for what we were supposed to go through, to immigrate and live a fully independent life with completely different standards and applicable strategies. We had to find out for ourselves, whether it works or not. We are just the first generation doing it at a more dominant scale. Going out of the cave. We talk and laugh at our mistakes. And talk about the journey, the exploration.

What it took American and European female generation to go through in at least forty years, happened to us over night and it had to only take us a few years to adopt. From outside it looks like watching a movie in an accelerated mode. We had to learn it all and pretend we know where we are heading at until we do. But as it goes, it feels better and better, it‘s something you built up for yourself from scratch with no prototypes. It’s something rooted and original, something that only we could do.

And that all reminds me of Kamran Afshar Naderi and a groomy late afternoon, in his class of contemporary architecture critics, “Renzo Piano says, In design process, if you know already what the project will look like, the ultimate outcome, that is not worth designing, it’s only when you do not know where the process will end up at, that it’s worth going through the process.”


* One of the world's most unconventional architects, the architect of Sydney Opera House.

Those who ...

I love the company of people who are not superficial. Who do not keep telling you that everything is absolutely wonderful and great! Who do not sugar wrap. Who are real. Who are not insecure and who are not afraid to be just like themselves, and describe things just as they are. Those who know better that this world is not a perfect place, that there is not such a thing as perfect. Who laugh at their problems in front of others. Who are not artificially and constantly making up an image. Who truly believe that this life is just too short to be any one other than this!

Life means,…
One bird flew!
What are you missing?
There aren’t too few hopes,
Such as this sun,
The baby of the day after tomorrow,
Someone died last night,
But still wheat bread is good.

The Sunken Ship

Today, she is totally confused. She feels like whatever step she is taking only makes whatever situation worse. She almost wants to run to the street, to the park to find an illiterate gypsy to tell her what to do. It feels like all she has learnt so far, all she has experienced do not seem to help her at all. She sits in the dark and thinks and stares at the monitor light. Her mind wanders from the project team, to friends, to family to her. Her mind resembles a cross section of an ocean. Filled with tidal waves on the surface. She tries to dive down. She knows there is a sunken ship on the floor of the ocean that is silent and motionless, that is not sailing anywhere anymore, that is stably anchored to the ground, that has found its peace and destiny and that is not prone to change or time. She stays in her solitude ship for a while knowing she has to let herself float back to the surface again. Where all the tidal waves are.

Fran

Her name is Fran. Seventy year old. A very good friend of mine. She has been a well known marketer and project hunter for architectural companies throughout the State.
We go out after work sometimes and she tells me I remind her of when she was young. How she used to run in San Francisco streets with high heels and would leave her heels in Downtown streets holes. She still has the shine in her eyes. Never been married.
Today she tells me about the fiance she lost in Vietnam War. "He was a pilot but he never got back!" And the sparkle in her eyes gets doubled. But she doesn't cry. "I went wild after him. And could not commit. Did crazy things. Did drunk driving. Did para shooting. It didn't kill me, I don't know why. Friends keep telling me, "How could you live this long?"...


PS._ There is something between me and older women. There has always been.

لیست آدمها

این روزها آدمها لیست دارند. لیست آدمها. از شماره ۱ تا شماره ۳۰و ...بدون رعایت ترتیب حروف الفبا. آدمها با ترتیب لیستشان به هم زنگ می زنند. قرار می گذارند. دور هم جمع می شوند. هر چند وقت یکبار این لیست را بالا و پایین میکنند. به هم می ریزند. مثل برزدن ورقها در شروع بازی. گاهی بعضی شماره ها را حذف میکنند. گاهی اضافه می کنند. این لیست آدمها گاهی هر شماره اش یک لیست دارد. مثل شماره یک الف شماره یک ب. شماره یک پ....این لیست گاهی حد نصاب دارد. آدمی به لیستی اضافه می شود چون کس دیگری حذف شده. حذف می شود چون جا برای اضافه کردن کسی نیست. شماره آدمها در لیستهای مختلف فرق می کند. این می شود که خیلی وقتها دامنه مشترک اسامی در لیست آدمهای مختلف کافی نیست. طول این لیست معمولا رابطه مستقیم دارد با خوشحالی آدمها. گاهی لیست آدمها صفحه هایش گم می شود. جا می ماند. منقضی میشود. فراموش می شود. به هم می خورد. سر و ته می شود. لیست آدمها را می شود مدیریت کرد. می شود در کامپیوتر ذخیره کرد. به روز کرد. می شود گروه بندی کرد. جمع زد. تفریق کرد. می شود چاپش کرد. می شود با پونز به دیوار زد یا به در یخچال چسباند و هر وقت که از تاریخ گذشت به درون سطل بازیافت کاغذ پرتاب کرد.

Re-Orient

Today, Sunday, life is as good as omelette with orange juice. And it's the first time I'm enjoying decluttering my home. Without having the biggest guilt feeling of me wasting my time. Today I want to slow down, and know what I am running so hard for! And if all of that is worth my peace of mind. And make sure life does not pass by too fast that precious moments get lost on the go. Today I'm just trying to act like myself, and not per the corporate designed life plan at a public scale. And sip my fine espresso trying to smell it first instead of making it a single gulp! Today I will try to practice that speed sometimes sacrifices quality. And that sometimes you need to stop and reorient yourself.

بهش که زنگ می زنم میگه هلاله دیر زنگ زدی وقت ندارم... ولی بیا. کار تو راه میندازم
میره بیرون. تند و تند سیگار می کشه. میگه: یا بیرون تو افتاب رنگشو ببین! کنار فویلو میزنه کنار می گه: خوبه؟ میگم اره. میگه: روشن تر نمی خواهی؟ میگم نه. نگاهم میکنه .میگه: با امریکایی ازدواج نکن. میگم: باشه! می گه: همیشه ته دلت یه چیزی خالیه! هر چقدر هم می گذره اون چیزی که خالیه بزرگتر میشه
معمولا موزیک باخ گوش می ده. نگاهم از کنار اینه می افته به یک عکس. عکس فریدون فروغی. می دونم برادرش بوده. می گه: من کوپهام معمولیه. رنگهام اما نه. میدونم. قلمو را که در رنگ میزنه انگار که داره روی سر ادمها نقاشی می کنه
این بار که زنگ می زنم خانمی با لهجه افغانی گوشی را برمیداره. میگم می خوام با فروغ صحبت کنم می گه: اااااااااا...... فروغ مریضه. حالش خوب نیست. مثل اینکه سرطانه. تا تصمیم گرفت بازنشست بشه استراحت کنه این جوری شد

به خونه اش زنگ می زنم. اقایی با لهجه کاملا امریکایی گوشی را بر می داره. می پرسم:سوزی کجاست؟ می گه سوزی با بچه هاش رفته هاوایی. که اون جا استراحت کنه

In the End

These days some are starting to invest in senior living centers. Simply because people live longer, kids become less loyal!

In one of the meetings of a senior housing project, one of the managers of these centers who has been hired as a consultant for this project looks at me and says, "Try to come up with as much as entertainment spaces as possible, such as bars, bowling, movie theaters, coffee shops" and continues, "If you don't, their kids and family won't come and visit them."
I look down to hide my wondering eyes and scribble something on my notepad.
He emphasizes, "No, I mean it! They won't!".

I tell myself, in my culture you don't put your parents in a warehouse just because they are old!

Strength

Sometimes you feel weak, not because you are weak, but just because the routes that you pick are not the easy ones.

Rules

They say belly dancing has one thousand rules. But they also say a professional belly dancer is the one who breaks all the rules and just goes by the moment.

Anniversary

January 10th, it became the total of six years I'm staying here in America. I tell my Amercian friends that I need to celebrate. They say, oh, you should!!!! They think I celebrate becasue I think I am privileged to live here for six years, I think I celebrate because I survived!!!!!!!!!!!! .....