One was taking Fritz to the hospital because he wasn’t well and it wasn’t one of his normal not-feeling-wells. When we arrived at emergency I was allowed to stay with him to translate. Once it was our turn, the doctor started to ask questions which I translated from one language into another. The doctor then asked how long Fritz had been living in Spain and when he said over forty years, she just about fainted and then gave him a real ear-full for not even trying to learn Spanish in the country he decided to make his home. When asked about what medication he took, he asked if that include illegal substances. Another face of shock, from the doctor. When I had to list the drugs he had been taking, she stood there breathless and said just the amphetamines alone could be causing his problem not to mention the rest. I carefully translated his explanation, about being an artist, and needing them for inspiration. She would hear none of his crap. After about half an hour of debate, they agreed that he could take Catovit, a vitamin supplement for geriatrics with a bit of a boost. Mainly used by students for studying. A few years later, after paying absolutely no heed to her advice, there really was something wrong with him. He had a blockage somewhere and it needed to be removed. While waiting in the hall amongst the dead and dying the doctor explained that since he had to pay for it anyway he should go somewhere where they weren’t so busy. That is what we did. Once in the hospital, his room began to fill up with paintings and rugs and the smell of ‘medicinal’ marijuana could be smelled from the elevator and along the hallway leading you straight to Fritz’s room. They were very tolerant in those days.
Another time I was translating for the friend of a new neighbour, who had been a mayor in England and he wanted to go and be presented to our current local mayor, the alcalde. I had no idea how pompous someone could be and was truly embarrassed to translate what he was saying, without toning it down a bit. He was there to explain how to run the place, where the mayor was going wrong and how he would do it should they change places. He stated that he would always be available for advice. This is a very short version of a long and embarrassing conversation because since I was the one talking to the mayor it seemed like it was me that was saying these things. I made it clear that I did not even know this man and was just asked to come along to help and was very sorry. The English ex-mayor never even offered me a cup of coffee. In fact, it’s remarkable how often I’ve translated or helped some gormless Brit and not been paid or even offered a cup of coffee. My husband only a few weeks ago went and helped a wealthy neighbour buy a new car in Vera, which took most of the morning. They then had a beer to celebrate and my husband had to fork out for the round. Like me, he has helped lots of people, from lawyers to protests, hospital visits to translating at the police station. Not many of them were like Fritz, who was always fun to be with and, with luck; you might sometimes earn a painting off of him.
The old days have gone. On Lenox’ webpage, now going on since 2002, he’s never been given any contribution whatsoever.
I have a licence as a translator, which I was given in the old days to help Señor Robles, the Almería police chief, with his problems with the ‘foreigners’. Which I did willingly. Then started the weeks in the hospitals and the court houses and the lawyers and so on which were no problem because I was doing it for friends and we all helped each other in those days. On one translating job to do with lawyers I have spent over fourteen years and on other medical trips over six years. Nowadays, you will find little badly-written signs in the medical centre or hospital. Call so-and-so who will charge accordingly.
Another time I was translating for the friend of a new neighbour, who had been a mayor in England and he wanted to go and be presented to our current local mayor, the alcalde. I had no idea how pompous someone could be and was truly embarrassed to translate what he was saying, without toning it down a bit. He was there to explain how to run the place, where the mayor was going wrong and how he would do it should they change places. He stated that he would always be available for advice. This is a very short version of a long and embarrassing conversation because since I was the one talking to the mayor it seemed like it was me that was saying these things. I made it clear that I did not even know this man and was just asked to come along to help and was very sorry. The English ex-mayor never even offered me a cup of coffee. In fact, it’s remarkable how often I’ve translated or helped some gormless Brit and not been paid or even offered a cup of coffee. My husband only a few weeks ago went and helped a wealthy neighbour buy a new car in Vera, which took most of the morning. They then had a beer to celebrate and my husband had to fork out for the round. Like me, he has helped lots of people, from lawyers to protests, hospital visits to translating at the police station. Not many of them were like Fritz, who was always fun to be with and, with luck; you might sometimes earn a painting off of him.
The old days have gone. On Lenox’ webpage, now going on since 2002, he’s never been given any contribution whatsoever.
I have a licence as a translator, which I was given in the old days to help Señor Robles, the Almería police chief, with his problems with the ‘foreigners’. Which I did willingly. Then started the weeks in the hospitals and the court houses and the lawyers and so on which were no problem because I was doing it for friends and we all helped each other in those days. On one translating job to do with lawyers I have spent over fourteen years and on other medical trips over six years. Nowadays, you will find little badly-written signs in the medical centre or hospital. Call so-and-so who will charge accordingly.
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