2020 / 2 July

Dear XXX


Dear XXX,

I am sending you a few words to thank you for allowing me to participate in the Barcelona event last week.

I have to admit though that the scene was tough but you made it much easier for me so thank you. The Barcelona staff was also very helpful and I am very grateful for that.

I, nevertheless, hope you understand that we went through surreal moments when four people screaming together, half in some sort of adapted classical Arabic, half in bits and pieces of vernacular Western varieties of the language, mixed with an assemblage of Levantine exclamations, all this concoction spiced up with old church vaults echoing, and the whole mix blended with the excruciating sound of unleashed hip skaters performing out in the square, made it feel more like a nutty scene from a 1960s surreal independent Italian movie than anything else. I will just have to add it, I guess, to my library of interesting challenges that I have been collecting in my past nineteen years of steady and tireless mind splitting efforts to access the highest level of schizophrenia ever reached by a human being. Despite my severe brain damage, I still am glad that I accepted this job because it was very interesting and challenging.

I hope that my flight of lyricism in a couple of occasions did not trespass the limits of what is perceived to be acceptable for an interpreter and if it did, I beg you to try to understand that when a perplexed nervous system is pushed beyond its limits, it is perfectly capable of leading a person to behave in a queer fashion. Sincerely, you should try to put yourself in my position to understand how mortifying it can be sometimes to keep repressing, constantly, relentless fierce bursts of cries for common sense, sometimes almost squirting from your guts, while your mind is struggling to focus on performing its interpreting job mechanically and conscientiously.

Sometimes I wish I were born and raised in Norway and I only spoke Norwegian, or maybe born and raised in Sweden, or Denmark. I could also have been a Swedish-Norwegian interpreter for example. Most definitely, God utterly disliked me when He decided to place the little seed of me in a Middle Eastern womb.

I am perfectly aware that I shouldn’t bother you with my existencial considerations on life adversities and that this introspective exercise shouldn’t have left the intimacy of my own mind so please feel free to erase the latter paragraph from your memory in the future.

Anyway, it was refreshing to have understanding ears listening through the earphones so thank you.

Have a fruitful rest of the week,

All the best,

Miguel