Translation continued.
Someone asked me why I didn't translate my own book. I'll tell you why. Because even though I know the language I'm rusty. Just how rusty?
After Katrina Attorney Gary's translator disappeared, the federal judge wouldn't pospone the case, so in a terrible pinch, I was asked to be the accused's translator. The proper papers were submitted, the judge approved, and I found myself in the Federal courthouse Campt St? in New Orleans, sitting next to a handcuffed fellow wearing an orange jumpsuit and shackles. The accuser had his translator, the judge had a translator and I'm so nervous I can barely mumble. By the time the two hours went by, I was sweating more than the accused. At one point, he turned to me and asked,"What did the judge say?" "I'm not quiet sure," I replied. "But I think they're going to hang you."
So much for my translating.....
Thoughts about my book, Secuestro, and the childhood recollections that inspired the story.
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