You'd think that for an event with 750 international participants, all the logistical details, especially those concerning communication, would be ironed out meticulously. I recently heard a story that really highlights how easily crucial elements can be overlooked, even by seasoned professionals. It’s a tale that underscores the importance of clear communication, not just between languages, but between clients and their service providers.
This particular conference was focused on international finance, a topic that naturally demands precision. The organizers, a new client, approached an interpreter to handle the multilingual needs. The plan was straightforward: set up booths, arrange for technicians, and ensure seamless interpretation. The client, however, made a rather firm decision: interpretation equipment would only be provided for non-English speakers. They were adamant that there would be no question-and-answer session, and if a non-English speaker did manage to ask something, it would be interpreted simultaneously, then repeated in English by the speaker for the rest of the audience. The interpreter, understandably, clarified this multiple times: simultaneous interpretation for all languages, no audience questions, no consecutive interpretation, and no equipment for the English speakers.
Everything seemed agreed upon. The interpreter assembled their team, including themselves for the Spanish booth, and directed the technicians on booth placement and equipment needs. On the day of the event, the interpreter arrived early, as is standard practice, and even shared a lavish breakfast with delegates and staff. It was quite a spread – omelet stations, baristas, the works. But what struck them was that a significant portion of the food, perhaps 60%, was being taken back to be discarded. Government regulations, apparently, meant it couldn't be saved.
The conference kicked off, and for a while, things ran smoothly. Then, after lunch, an old acquaintance, who was scheduled to speak, bumped into the interpreter. A brief, friendly chat ensued, with the speaker expressing surprise at seeing the interpreter, not realizing they were involved in organizing this particular event. The interpreter explained they were hired by the hosting entity.
Later, during the afternoon session, the speaker opened the floor for questions. What followed was a sea of hands. The speaker then called on a delegate from Eastern Europe who, crucially, did not speak English. As the delegate began speaking in their native tongue, a wave of confusion rippled through the audience. People were looking around, clearly searching for interpretation equipment that wasn't there. The client’s assumption of no questions had led to this oversight.
The interpreter immediately sought out the organizer, intending to point out that this exact scenario had been discussed and dismissed. But before they could even fully articulate their concerns, one of the interpreters from another booth rushed to the delegate and began interpreting consecutively. This wasn't part of the contract, and the interpretation itself was choppy, with the interpreter breaking up the delegate's speech into short segments, apparently on the instruction of a staffer from the organizing agency.
This situation, while perhaps extreme, serves as a potent reminder. It’s not just about having booths and interpreters; it’s about understanding the nuances of an event. It’s about anticipating the unexpected, like a speaker who unexpectedly invites questions, or a delegate who has something vital to say in their own language. The physical booth is just one part of the puzzle; the real challenge lies in ensuring that the intent and purpose of communication are fully understood and catered for, bridging not just linguistic divides but also the gaps in client expectations and practical realities.
