The Glassco Translation Residency: Day # 8

The Glassco Translation Residency will be always known as the place I really understood what does "translation" mean. And I'm not only talking about (but not excluding) the way we change the text, a piece, a book, a film to another language, but specially about how translation is part of our lives.


Somebody told me here (maybe?) that we are always translating. We are always trying to "give meaning to something, based on our own background and knowledge. Unfortunately, we are not always right, but it is ok.


And I need to say that because I've had some moments when I really wanted to make an SOS for the life-dictionary … Isnt it awfull when you feel appart? When you believe you are misunderstanding things? When you think you are being missunderstood? When you have the impression you've exagerated? Of even worst, when you are making part of a bad translation of yourself?


Yes… If you are the immigrant (even if you forguet it often) somentimes you will be mistranslated. And it is ok. We are humans and we only need some days to really understand things the way they really are. 8 days at Tadoussac. and I'll miss it.

The Glassco Translation Residency: Day # 7

A week ago I'm here. Seven days living with people I didn't know. In a small town I've ever visited. In a room that never slept.

I came here to translate a text from French to Portuguese and go out with a lot of baggage that I never imagined. I am sharing the same roof of a House with a history, enjoying the tranquility of whales, belugas and seals that aren't there for us, understanding what is really Canada, Quebec, the francophone, Anglophone and many other nuâncias under different views that I don't even know what to think without a great reflection.

And Yes, we've been quietly working hours, while we share knowledge and glasses of wine in our 5 to 7 and we talk about various subjects and crazy during our dinner. Yes, we walked together in the early evening to ensure the leisure-our-of-every-day and go home with the feeling that really contribute, through our work, for a better future. It's not always so obvious. but most of the time is a real consciousness.

Yes, there are three days to go and I'm sure I'm going to miss this place. The stairway, the cuckoo, the smell of wet earth, the friends I've made here. In a conversation, Maryse said going back. This is a beautiful prophecy. Anyway, like I said the Lady of chocolate shop: "magical things happen in Tadoussac.

The Glassco Translation Residency: Day # 5

I feel guilty.


I feel guilty when I don't start working early in the morning. Guilty when I notice that I've lost a lot of time with California. Guilty when the day wasn't as productive as I expected. Guilty for idleness, for contemplation, for openning space.


So, today I went for a long walk.


I saw trees, the river, the fjord, the rocks, the birds, the boat, the lighthouse. And instead of appreciating all of that, I found out that guilty had gone with me for a long walk.


So, guilty made me come back.


And even after a hot shower, where I've tried to take her out the dirty on our skin, she is there. Using my own words to keep me guilty even of writing.


But there is something that guilty doesn't know.


When you write it down, guilty disapears at the moment you put the end point.

The Glassco Translation Residency: Day # 4

Florence lives in Montreal, but spends the summer in Tadoussac. In your home, facing the St. Laurent River, she separated a small study for their chocolates. A gateway with a white whale says "ouvert". You descend three steps and feel the smell of cocoa. She explains what is manufacturing its own and what are products purchased on behalf of tourists. Buy a bar of dark chocolate and a box of assorted chocolates. We talked about. The time passes more slowly. She asks me if I accept a port. I don't like porto, accepted. And she comes back with the liquor in a shot of chocolate made by herself. We say goodbye and go back to the residence. Time passes slowly. Fortunately.

Glassco Translation Residence: Day # 3

La nuit tombe à Tadoussac. Après une douche chaude, je les escaliers pour mettre descends le mot de passe WiFi sur mon kindle. Le silence entrecoupé par le bruit de l'Horloge «coucou» et le grincement de planches de l ' escalier me donne le sentiment that tout le monde dort. Au premier étage, dans tous les coins de la maison, chacun est dans sa propre bulle littéraire, that ce soit dans toutes les langues. Les auteurs et les traducteurs dévorent les lettres du clavier, chacun en son temps. Briony croise mon chemin en soi-disant journalist ' doux rêves pour toi». Et je vois déjà son sourire dans le matin en me demandant, comme tous les matins, ' avez-vous bien dormi?». Je ne sais pas s'il est encore redondant la phrase «avez-vous bien dormi?», or «doux rêves pour toi» dans un endroit comme celui-ci. Or suis-je encore redondant de dire tout cela me semble irréel that ici?

Glassco Translation Residence: Day # 2

Day 2.

I woke up in Tadoussac.

It wasn't a dream.. Despite many throughout the night.

On the path between the living room and the kitchen, ask me what I thought of the bed.

I wanted to use adjectives in Portuguese to tell you how I was happy, but I didn't want to look like a child.

I felt like a child.

When you wake up, for more polyglot who believes be adjectives in other languages still sleep somewhere in your head.

In front of me, a river beach.

Here, the word "beach" wins new senses.

And that's fine.

I went for a walk in the sand.

Wet feet.

I realized that every 8 seconds, the bones began to ache.

Needed to take your feet out of the water.

And then come back.

Saw seals.

I went back to what I call "home".

Lemon with hot water.

A strong coffee.

Bread and butter. Or warmed it up.

Chose the best view of the "beach".

A rocking chair, two pillows on my legs and my laptop.

Time to start the translation.

… and from time to time look out the window.

Looks like surrealism, but, here, a whale may cross your path as you type.

Glassco Translation Residence: Day # 1

Tadoussac. First day at "Glassco Translation Residence". It is like if I came from an unrealistic journey since the moment I left Montreal, this morning, in a train, till this very moment where I am in my "lovely room writing down this text.

This is not the house. It can't be. This is one of my dreams coming true where we see lots of books (even in the bathroom), the garden, boats from the window, the stair made of wood, the sound of the cuckoo on the wall telling me time goes by, the dinner with wine and writers on every corner of the house. If it is not a dream, please, keep me awake.

Here I am, loving each moment, each corner, each detail. And do you know what? It's been only 5 hours I arrived here. and I'll spend ten days!

Sorry if I don't come back … but I've just found my place.

On the move …

We sit two by two on the train, face to face. Rebecca and Maryse. Michael and I the other. After brief introductions, the first issue were the books that each brought to the "residence". Happy to be in the company of my kindle. The train started moving. Montreal was getting far out the window. Up here, everything just seemed a little surreal. Fiction, theatre texts, dramatúrgicos advisors, resilience … And there I was, on my way to a residence of translation with writers of Quebec. Funny how we create images of ourselves that not always "fit" where we wish or imagine. Hard for me to see how they, even though, deep down, we were so alike. Writers. After all, what's the real difference between us?