Niña Ucrania, el microrrelato de Carmela Greciet que hemos leído, analizado y comentado en otros apartados de este blog, apareció ya en lengua alemana, traducido por Heike Brandt. Hoy lo publicamos en lengua inglesa, en la traducción de Louise Mc Cloy, mi compañera de inglés del Departamento de Lenguas, con la que comparto, no solo el trabajo en la universidad, sino también unos encuentros semanales enriquecedores para las dos en los que hablamos alternativamente en su lengua materna o en la mía. De estos intercambios surgió la idea de traducir el texto de Carmela Greciet, que tanto le había gustado a Louise cuando se lo di a leer. Estoy muy contenta de haber enlazado así en este espacio virtual a personas que aprecio y con las que comparto más que palabras. Gracias a todas ellas.
Ukraine Girl
I had just entered the lift to go to the park with my mother, but she was so distracted by her mobile that she couldn’t react in time, and the door closed, leaving me alone inside.
I reappeared a few floors further up, where a woman I had never seen before was waiting for me. She angrily shouted at me in Ukrainian – or at least that was what I assumed it to be. Still feeling dizzy after my first trip alone, I didn’t have the strength to resist and did what her gestures, the universal language of mothers, told me to do: ‘get inside the flat!’
At first I thought of escaping down the stairs, but as the days passed by and she didn’t come up to look for me, my pride was hurt and wanted revenge. What’s more, as time went by, I began to take a liking to borsh, galushki, little pieces of salo, kulich, the sweet zapecanca, and having a brother – I had always wanted to have a brother – so I decided to stay.
Now I’m going to a state school, where I have Spanish lessons five times a week. As I don’t speak, my mentor reassures the other teachers by saying, ‘it’s because she’s going through the silent period. But wait till she gets started….those Eastern Europeans are very disciplined.’ Everyone thinks that I’m very tall, but that’s because they put me in a class two years lower than I should be.
The other schoolchildren shout at me in the school yard, ‘Ukraine girl! Ukraine girl!’
Several weeks have passed by and today, for the first time, I saw her. She was leaving through the main door as I entered with my brother. She looked radiant, hand in hand with her new boyfriend. As she saw me, she cried out, ‘Oh, what a cute little girl! And hasn’t she grown!’ And then, in a low voice, she explained, ‘They’re the ones from the 5th floor – the ones from Ukraine.’
Autora: Carmela Greciet
Traductora: Louise Catherine Mc Cloy
Tags: MÁS QUE PALABRAS, TRADUCCIONES
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