FOUND IN TRANSLATION

My favourite word in English is peanut butter.
It has such a wonderful taste to it.
But I’m also a fan of scrumptious, idea and divine.
My favourite word in German is Schaufensterdekorateur.
It’s a mouthful of syllables, but balanced just so.
And just look at the proportion of consonants and vowels in the word Angst.
My favourite word in French is aujord’hui.
Because it’s such an unlikely combination of sounds, I think. And because I believe I’m an aujord’hui person.
My favourite word in Italian is oceano mare.
Like the book by Alessandro Baricco, where he writes about an artist who sets out with his brush and easel every day to some cold beach to paint the sea. With sea water. And even though they all come out soaking wet and clear when they dry, he crumples up many and declares one his masterpiece. A series of white canvases. What an image that is.
My favourite word in Hungarian is dobostorta.
It’s also my only word in Hungarian.
My favourite word in Irish is sláinte.
Cheers. Sometimes the only word you need.
My favourite word in Greek is poesis.
Reminds me of the German word Poesie, suggesting so much more lyricism than poetry, which, if I’m not careful with my typing, comes out as pottery and a different craft altogether.
My favourite word in Spanish is corazón.
For the longest time I had it in my head that it means for this reason, but really it’s a noun and it means heart.
My favourite word in Portuguese is agora! And it needs an exclamation mark. It is one of the words you taught me. It means now. Let’s meet now. But I like to drop it on you just out of the blue, as in now, now, now. Just to see the effect it has on you. Now you’re here, now I’m ready, now I’m coming. Agora!

At social gatherings of the type where you get a complimentary glass of champagne and spend the rest of the evening trying to work out whether it is now acceptable to leave, I like to say that I am a translator and editor for 5 languages. (Response: “Wow.”) I translate between English and German, German and English, Austrian English and English, Austrian German and German, and more often than not, I transform bad language into good language, too. And that’s not counting all the varieties of American, British, Australian, Indian and Elsewhere English. (Response: weary smile.)

David was my last boyfriend. He would take me to those horrible cocktail parties and leave me standing in the corner with his boss’s wife or someone else I really had nothing to say to. And I could much rather identify with the waiters walking around with full trays of more drinks or bite-sized sandwiches with caviar and parsley, because three nights of the week after Uni that was my job, too.