The Upwork project that most fascinated me, drew me in personally to the greatest degree, was a hybrid translation/editing/proofreading/formatting job – with a bit of poetry, some linguistic analysis, and genuine tears layering the hours.
A female Swiss non-profit worker (whom I will not identify) wrote the story of a Laotian man whom I will identify only as “S.S.” The Swiss worker – an exceptionally articulate woman, who included her own poetry in the work being edited – had written the account in French, and wanted me to check the French against the English for accuracy, as well as to provide proofreading and editing: that was an interesting technical challenge, particularly given that the skills of the original French-to-English translators had varied widely in quality, and given that many of the original French terms used were technical, regional, dated, and/or slang. The translations of some of the author’s poetry had been completed in rhyme, some in free-verse, and I had to decide how to reconcile those differences.
The content of the account was both fascinating and horrifying. The central story is that of the disappearance of S.S., most likely at the hands of the Laotian government itself. Along the way, we read the supporting narrative, as well as verbatim news clippings and emails; sections of U.N. reports; personal memories; re-created dialogues; etc. – all of which provide various perspectives on life, culture, non-governmental organizations (NGOs), land reforms, governmental corruption, human venality, greed, and yet also great nobility of spirit – all presented in a matter-of-fact (but simultaneously well-observed) manner that allows the facts to speak for themselves and avoids the preachy or the histrionic.
I will offer an extremely oblique paraphrasing and “scrunching-up” of several pages of the work, without using enough to give away the principals or to violate copyright:
S.S. was a vocal supporter of rural landowners and land tenants in Laos. He had been warned by the government about his speeches and his activism, despite official Laotian policies supporting freedom of expression.
One evening, at dusk, S.S. and a driver are stopped by authorities at a governmental checkpoint: a CCTV film of the events showed S.S. being escorted by police into an official building. After S.S. enters the governmental building, a switcheroo takes place between his Jeep and a newly-arrived large truck and a newly-arrived motorcycle, involving the drivers of these vehicles. The driver of S.S.’s Jeep is taken away from the checkpoint in the large truck. Soon afterwards, the Jeep is driven into the heavy traffic next to the checkpoint. Neither the Jeep nor 60-year-old S.S. is ever seen again.
The persistent and distraught wife of S.S. immediately alerts authorities, who are of no help to her in her search for S.S. She very quickly goes to the local police station, where she is able to persuade a local policeman to show her the CCTV film that has recorded the last moments her husband was known to be seen alive. She captures a grainy video of the film on her cellphone, although she is not allowed to record a good-quality copy of the CCTV film itself, nor to take the original film with her.
No one has ever again been able to locate the original CCTV film that shows the last-known moments and movements of S.S. Only the film-of-a-film remains; it has been made available on the internet.
A few weeks later, the local policeman who showed the CCTV film to the wife of S.S. himself disappeared.
The Laotian government has denied any responsibility for the disappearance of S.S.
The author’s comment within her text, translated into English, is: “May my words serve their cause.”
May her words do so, indeed!
