Hanging like a bat

I..(pause for affect)...am flexible and adaptable. I AM flexible and adapatable. I am flexible...(another pause, confident nod of the head and eyebrows raised to stress the point)...AND adaptable! Oh yes I am....which is very lucky, because these are characteristics VSO say a volunteer must possess, and some of the key criteria by which they make a decision about your suitability. See for yourself and visit VSO's "what you need" page if you like. It's right up there second only to self-assurance, which I most definitely have in abundance...I think, although sometimes I'm not so sure. Anyway, who needs self assurance when you have flexibility and adaptability? It really should be placed at the top of that list. Because, boy, does it come in handy! So much so that it has become my mantra.

I find myself muttering it under my breath through gritted teeth on the bus; taking a deep breath and repeating it in my head over and over again in the middle of work meetings; declaring it out loud to myself standing in front of the bathroom mirror whilst home alone. Yep, it's a good one. Try it for yourself. Whenever things seem overwhelming, a little surprising or just plain crazy, give it a go. You'll wonder how you ever managed without it.

Well, my flexibility and adaptability has risen to new heights of late when I agreed to step into the role of bridesmaid at a Sri Lankan wedding. If you read my very special engagement blog post, you'll know this was on the cards. It was quite the event to say the least, and my mantra has been required frequently both in the build up and on the big day itself. I'm not sure I'll be able to do the whole event justice in just one post. So, instead I'll simply share some of my own personal "highlights" with you.

2 months before the big day at home
The bride to be: "oh, I forgot to tell you. The colour of your sari has changed again. It's now green"
Me "Oh really, that's good, I like green. But what shade of green?"
The bride to be: thoughtfully looking around my flat and eventually spotting something, appearing satisfied and pointing toward the kitchen "that sort of green"
Me: twisting round to follow her gaze and find it resting on some unripe bananas in my fruit bowl "...Oh"
The bride to be: "...and the sari jacket is yellow"
Me: "Like a ripe banana?"
The bride to be: "Yes"
Me: "Oh!"

1 week before the big day in a salon down the road 
Beautician/torturer number 1: plucking and threading the eyebrows of a wriggly non-compliant first time foreigner and having great difficulty undertaking the task.
Beautician/torturer number 2: holding the jaw and forehead in a vice like grip whilst pressing her fingertips into the foreigner's eyeball sockets in order (I can only assume?) to gain some leverage and assist beautician/torturer number 1 to continue her work.
Me: whimpering, palms and soles of feet sweating despite the a/c, eyes watering uncontrollably "why did nobody tell me it would hurt so much? Can I go now? Just leave the other one, honestly it's fine"
Beauticians/torturers 1 & 2: ignoring mad mutterings of foreigner and moving onto socket and brow number 2.
Me: continuing to whimper....

On the morning of the big day back in the salon with the beauticians/torturers and a few of their friends

10am
Me: being squeezed into my banana sari jacket and underskirt "is it meant to be so tight that I can't fully inflate my lungs?"
Beautician/torturer number 3: looking slightly concerned, unzips the underskirt a tiny bit and wanders off.
Me: "oh great, thanks!
Beautician/torturer number 3: returning with a safety pin, overlaps the open zip by a couple of inches and secures the underskirt even more tightly with the pin!
Me: lungs deflating involuntarily "pfffff....oh!"

10:23am
Beautician/torturer number 4: backcombing my entire head of hair until it is defying gravity and standing totally upright and away from my head.
Me: "oh"

11am 
Beautician/torturer number 2: trying to dress me in green pearl earrings
Me: "oh, no. You wont be able to do that, they were pierced 20 years ago, and I've not worn any for years"
Beautician/torturer number 2: appearing to lose interest and wandering off
Me: allowing myself a brief smile having won a small victory.

11:15am
Beautician/torturer number 2: fiddling with something near to my left ear.
Me: looking in the mirror and noticing a small pearly thing stuck to my earlobe, then glancing back at my torturer to spot a yellow tube of something in her hand. "Is that superglue?!!!!!!!"
Head Beautician/torturer sounding incredulous and slightly tired of all my chatter "it's not superglue.....it's uhu!"
Me "oh!"

11:36am
Head Beautician/torturer: moving towards me with the make up brush
Me: "I don't want very much make up. I already told Sewandi (the bride to be) and she said that was fine"
Head Beautician/torturer: moving closer with the brush "I know"

11:45am
Head Beautician/torturer: applying a 3rd layer of something very wet and sticky to my face "so, is this the first time you have worn heavy make up?"
Me: "What?" repeating silently to myself "I am flexible and adaptable. I am flexible and adaptable. I am flexible and adaptable. I am flexible and adaptable."

12:05pm 
Me: sitting up and seeing the results of my heavy make over in the mirror "OH...MY....GOD!!"
Head beautician/torturer: "You look beautiful."
Me: "@*&£%"
Head beautician/torturer: "This is how we do things in Sri Lanka.We say in Sri Lanka, if you can't stand up straight like this (stands up rigid to demonstrate), you may need to hang upside down like a bat (folds at the waist to demonstrate bat pose)"
Me: "In England we say "when in Rome". Is that what you mean?"
Head beautician/torturer: laughing hysterically and punching me on the shoulder "you are so bad!"
Me: "Oh!" glancing nervously into the mirror and wincing at my reflection "but is that what you mean? Or are you just saying I need to be flexible and adaptable? Because I am trying, honestly."
Head beautician/torturer: continuing to laugh and punch me on the shoulder "you are so silly"
Me: "But really, it is a serious question" muttering quietly under my breath "I am flexible and adaptable. I am flexible and adaptable. I am flexible and adaptable. I am flexible and adaptable."
Roomful of beauticians/torturers: Laughing hysterically
Me: Shrugging my shoulders and joining in with the laughter "Ok, well, I'll just try hanging like a bat today then, a very heavily made up bat, but a bat none the less. Lucky I am so very flexible and adaptable!"

Gremlins, monkeys & mischievous spirits

I have a very good friend who has been working for several years as a translator and interpreter. She's highly professional, loves what she does, and seems to earn a decent living doing it. If you know who I'm talking about, or live anywhere within a 10 mile radius of central Brighton, you'll have heard the distinct sound of her blowing her own trumpet. And so she should. She has great hair, is well respected in the linguistic world and has a serious and enthusiastic following in the blogosphere. At least, so she tells me. I've certainly enjoyed talking to her about my encounters with the language barrier whilst in Sri Lanka; the joys of painstakingly clambering over it, cunningly negotiating a way around it, or just clumsily ploughing headlong into it. However, I must also admit to some friendly teasing over the years in view of what appears to be a fairly easy gig. So...you can speak a couple of languages and type a bit! But I mean, really! How hard can it be? In truth she seems to spend more time drinking coffee, lunching, or hanging out at geeks & their games dot com than she does doing actual work. However, my time in Sri Lanka has highlighted just how much skill is required in the trade. So, perhaps the refreshments and games of scrabble are deserved after all! She has been pestering me for some time now to dedicate a blog post to her line of work, so here goes.

I've been working with a couple of the occupational therapists at the hospital to run a group for people who hear voices as part of a mental illness. The group aims to provide a non-judgemental space for people to discuss their experiences and also attempts to normalise them to some extent. The stigma surrounding such things remains shockingly present. And yet, did you know that up to 10% of people across the world have experienced voices; that a number of talented and well-known people past and present have heard voices; that it is not always a sign of mental illness, and that many people can lead meaningful and fulfilling lives despite hearing voices? And, be honest, have you really never heard or seen something that others around you did not? I for one had an unshakable fever-induced belief in the imminent destruction of the world after watching an episode of Knight Rider as a kid. It was one of the most terrifying couple of hours I have ever endured. But that's whole other blog post. The point is, focusing on these experiences purely from a medical perspective is not always helpful. Most importantly, the group teaches new skills to tolerate difficult experiences and encourages individuals to take positive steps towards their values and goals in life.

It's the first time such a group has been run at the hospital and I feel very pleased to be involved in it. I am extremely grateful to my UK and VSO colleagues for providing resources, advice and peer support. Running a group like this is hard work at the best of times, but this has been particularly challenging as I am facilitating the sessions through an interpreter. This is a completely new experience for me and I've been especially glad to know my trumpet blowing friend who has been able to offer me some insider top tips. As funds for interpreters aren't so easy to come by, one of the OT's is stepping into this role. Whilst he is not a professional interpreter, he appears to be taking it in his stride and doing a great job.

In order that we stay as true as possible to the original concepts, we have been having some interesting discussions. One of the most fascinating has involved a long conversation about gremlins. I don't mean the fluffy but evil mogwais from the 1984 film of the same name, but rather gremlins in general; those imaginary mischievous sprites thought to be responsible for unexplained problems. One of the sessions shared by my UK colleague used the metaphor of a gremlin to represent those unwanted experiences we can all have. Participants are asked to imagine their voices are like having a gremlin telling them unpleasant or upsetting things. They are then encouraged to consider how they might manage this irritating visitor. The main point is that we do not have to listen to the gremlin, do what it tells us or believe that what it says. Whilst it is helpful to acknowledge their presence, we can end up giving them power they do not deserve. If we instead refuse to engage with them on any meaningful level, it is possible to put more energy into the things which are important to us.

Are you still following me? I hope so. Well, it turns out that gremlin is not a word or concept that has made it's way into Sri Lankan culture. And so, we were faced with a linguistic quandary. I was rather pleased with my idea of changing it to a monkey. Whilst not invisible, they are certainly mischievous and often unseen. They seem to cause all sorts of problems here in Sri Lanka, be it looting a shop of it's wares or cheekily swiping snacks left out on the balcony. However, this suggestion was met with an unimpressed silence. I was reminded that for many people in Sri Lanka, monkeys have a sacred status. So, that wont do then! Returning to the definition of a gremlin, we went on to discuss sprites, elves, fairies, imps, ghosts and ghouls.

By now, a huddle of interested staff had gathered around us. The first suggestion from the group was that of a boothaya. In Sri Lankan culture, there is a strong belief in karma; if someone has been bad in life, they might come back as some kind of spirit. One such spirit is a boothaya, thought to cause trouble to the living but also capable of good deeds. This was therefore dismissed in favour of a yakshia. The yakshia, emerging from the same karmic process, is also a spirit. However, it is considered to be much more problematic and never the source of good deeds. If someone is having difficulties in life, they might attribute them to a yakshia. It seemed to fit. And so this is what we settled on. But not without a certain amount of trepidation on my part.

I was concerned about how the translation might be misunderstood by the group, so much so I considered removing the whole session. I was especially anxious that we might reinforce certain unhelpful beliefs; for example, that mental illness is the result of bad karma and some kind of punishment for bad deeds. This was certainly not the idea! The gremlin was intended purely as a metaphor, a tool to help people understand their inner experiences, and I wasn't totally convinced that the yakshia would be taken in this way. And so, I quizzed and questioned my colleagues and Sri Lankan friends. And then I quizzed them some more. I was reassured again and again that yakshia was a suitable translation and that my concerns were not founded. In the end, I had to trust them.

I'm pleased to report that the session appeared to go well and people seemed to get it. However, this whole experience has made me realise just how much responsibility and power is held by the translator/interpreter and how much trust is placed in them. Perhaps it's not such an easy gig after all! If you are Sri Lankan and reading this, perhaps you have another suggestion? I'd be interested to hear it. If you are a translator or interpreter, hats off to you. Go treat yourself to a fancy lunch and pour yourself another coffee. You deserve it!