Translating Slogans

In a per-word world, slogan translation should be some of the most inexpensive work we do. After all, something like Refreshingly Real is only two words. But what’s refreshingly real about slogan translation is that this type of work comes anything but cheap, in all the senses of the word. Translating slogans is difficult, pain-staking and downright costly -- especially if you don’t get it right.

Since opening in 2005, In Every Language has translated slogans and catch phrases for everything from hamburgers to recliners to stud farms -- that’d be horses, not good looking men. I’ve found that the act of translating slogans requires a collaborative environment between the translation company, the ad agency and the end client. And as with anything else we do, some clients are more collaborative than others. When both the ad agency and the end client are on board, the translation itself is more effective, the work is done more quickly and the bill itself can be lower. To translate anything, you have to understand it, but if you translate slogans long enough, it’s inevitable that someone -- ad agency or end client side -- will misunderstand and it unfortunately doesn’t take long for the email to arrive asking  why they have to “spend so much” or “wait so long” for something that’s “just a few words.”

When things go right, though, the client understands. Fortunately for us, there are agencies out there that know how much work they put into crafting those “few words” and realize  that translation will take more than an hour and $25. Others, though -- especially smaller ones working with their first national or global account -- somehow don’t grasp that what took them hours of work will also take hours -- or maybe even days -- of work from you.

That’s because our work parameters may be different, but the work itself can be very much the same. The ad folks are idea makers, given weeks or months with a product, hours or weeks with its maker, truly able to start from scratch in their conceptual dreaming. When it comes to writing or translating a slogan, in any language, you really are cramming everything about a product or a company -- its soul, its spirit, its I Ch’ing -- into “just a few words.”  You have to make the buyer acknowledge the product, you have to make him want the product and you have to make him remember to buy the product, all in the blink of an eye. That type of thoughtful capturing takes time, both in target and source.

But the ad agency has the home court advantage, so to speak, because it gets to start from scratch. Translators are guests in the deal, having to play on the ad agency’s basketball court, as they take what ad writers have decided is persuasive, then make it equally persuasive in another language for another group of people living in another culture -- all while being true to the original text.

That’s why I still say slogan translation instead of transcreation, a term swiftly taking hold in our industry. If, as some argue, localization is simply translation done right, then transcreation is localization in the emperor’s new clothing. Despite the creative energies required, translators are not the creators here. If you go to dictionary.com, transcreation as a word isn’t even in there yet, but creation is. It’s “the act of producing or causing to exist; an original product of the mind.”  Translators are producing and their slogans definitely would not exist in the target language if it weren’t for them, but translated slogans are anything but “an original product of the mind.”  They’re much more intrinsically and difficulty birthed than that. In translating a slogan, you have to make people want, remember and buy the product, but you also have to do it within the confines of the original slogan’s want-remember-buy trifecta. Where the agency was free to explore, design and dream without any non-product parameters, translators must do those things within the parameters they have set. We are reshaping the idea, but we did not create the materials it is made of. But on what level?  And in what way?

Take the slogan “This should go over big.”  When McDonald’s ad agency came to us, they needed it translated specifically for Spanish speakers living in the United States. Now, before you get all excited, I have to tell you In Every Language is not the me encanta (I’m lovin’ it) company. While I’d love seeing my name -- ahem, I mean my translation -- up in lights, the slogan work we do for McDonald’s is much more local(ized) than anything marketed on an international level. The portion of Mickey D’s “billions and billions served” that sees our work is Hispanic Americans in the Midwest and Mid-South -- principally Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky and Tennessee. The translated slogans run in Spanish-language newspapers and are on roadside billboards in immigrant neighborhoods. Because of where the slogans appear, they can’t really be localized for a specific dialect. Here in Louisville, Kentucky alone, we have Spanish speakers born in Cuba, Mexico, Argentina, Venezuela, Spain, Guatemala, Belize, Uruguay, Ecuador, Colombia, Peru and Puerto Rico. Take in the rest of the state, then the rest of the region and the list grows longer. And McDonald’s understandably doesn’t want to have to put up multiple billboards for all those different countries. The work we do must be localized for a Spanish-speaking consumer, but it must be generalized for all ethnicities of consumer all at once.

In most of these countries, a Big Mac is called a Big Mac. It’s not a Grande Mac, a Mac Gigante or anything where we could readily use the name of the sandwich to linguistically play on its size. The word big itself wasn’t capitalized, either, which means that the link between the sandwich being a Big Mac and its being big in size wasn’t meant to be overly overt, anyway. So on to the next point of consideration: what the slogan was trying to say, as opposed to exactly what it said. And I think it’s quite obvious to anyone reading this article that the core message of this slogan was that a Big Mac is big. Not only is it big, but it was going to be a smash hit.

In Louisville, we’re odd for the United States in that there are more Cubans than Spanish-speakers of any type. So our first impulse was ¡Cosa más grande! (The biggest thing!), a typical Cuban expression used to denote surprise or praise. Perfect, you might think, as it gets across the sheer overwhelming nature of the Big Mac’s large size and also manages to play on the word big. But not so quick. Remember we’re working with different dialects and outside of Cuba, this phrase is actually quite funny because of the triteness of it all. Remember Bart Simpson?  Well, “Cowabunga, dude” might have been alright -- I would never argue cool -- to say when Bart first hit the scene in 1989, but say it now and you’ll get laughed right out of pretty much anywhere except an English-as-a-foreign-language class. So, think of ¡Cosa más grande! as something like that -- a phrase that does, in fact, mean something and that some speakers might think was cool – but think of Cuba as English class -- the one place where ¡Cosa más grande! is actually okay for grown-ups to seriously say. Next, please.

Leave Louisville and go into the rest of our region and you’ll meet a lot of Mexicans. And face it, when clients say they want generalized Spanish for the US, what they most often ask for is Mexican. Mexican is the catch-all Spanish in our country, whether it  should be or not. So, effort number two was No te hagas de la boca chiquita (Don’t pretend you have a small mouth) -- a Mexican expression, but at least one people from other countries wouldn’t make fun of. First problem, though: it was still a little dialect-specific. Second problem: While the expression is said when a host wants a dinner guest to feel comfortable and eat up, its size word (chiquita) references small, not big. We wanted to stay away from any subliminal ties small vs. big might convey.

So onto solution three: Esto va en grande (This is going to be big). Pay dirt. Esto va en grande is understood in multiple countries, uses the word grande and is said when the speaker wants to reassure the listener that what is heading his way really is the real deal, positive and not just a promise.

So, our translation for This should go over big went over pretty well with the client and we got set to translate our next slogan for them: Refreshingly Real. When we received the copy, there was no context at all, just the slogan and this sentence: “Is it possible to have a few words translated into Spanish by Monday?,” followed by a request that we also translate the word small. So, we didn’t know what McDonald’s item was being modified, just that it was refreshing, real and might come in different sizes. I think we’d all agree that’s not enough to go on. This is where that collaborative environment comes in. With This is going to be big, there was some back and forth trying to get it right, but given a picture of a Big Mac and the original slogan, it didn’t take a genius to figure out the factors involved. Refreshingly Real, though, was a bit more problematic.

We asked for an image, like we’d had of the Big Mac and point blank asked, “What is refreshingly real? (McDonald's? A specific sandwich? A drink?)”  Enter fruit smoothies ad, the magical PDF that held the key to solving all our dangling modifier problems.  Or so we thought.

Smoothies, by and large, are an American concept. Going through a drive-thru and ordering a cold drink that comes in a cup the size of Montana is not really something folks do outside of the United States. We found ourselves not only translating a slogan, but introducing its concept, since we had to complete the rest of the ad, which promoted real fruit smoothies. 

Now, while I’ll argue that slogans are still translated, naming products definitely falls under transcreation. Research showed that frappé is the most common Spanish word for smoothie, where smoothies do exist, but the problem was McDonald’s already sold frappés and those frappés were already called frappés by Spanish-speakers in the Midwest and Mid-South. In this forever determining of the linguistic path of the fruit smoothie, we were truly starting from scratch.

So what did we name it? In most of South America, people say smoothie for fruit drinks and frappé for coffee drinks. In Mexico, frappé works for both coffee and fruit drinks. Malteada and batido both specifically mean milkshake, but McDonald’s new fruit smoothies don’t have any ice cream in them. Our team thought of raspado, which is similar to slushie, but raspado was too regional; non-Mexicans would be confused by McDonald's selling fruit scraps. In the end, we went with frappé after all and stuck de fruitas (fruit) after it to modify. Boring, I know, but why reinvent the rueda (wheel)?

After getting smoothie figured out, refreshingly real (verdaderamente refrescantes) was refreshingly easy.

It just goes to show, though, that what may be “just a few words” to the client is an entire thought process for us. Our world is anything but a per-word one, where two little words can quickly turn into an intensive spelunking mission deep into the heart of Spanish smoothie history. Translation can turn into transcreation and next thing you know, the project scope has changed.  But what hasn’t changed and what’s sitting there making your job harder is that translators must still consider the original marketer’s intent, the original ad’s language, the product itself and the target market(s). Creativity can be controlled, but collaboration can‘t be, as some clients are naturally more forthcoming and cooperative than others. I suppose we should take it as a compliment when these clients get upset about having to “spend so much” or “wait so long.”  It just means that we as translators are good at what we do, that we’re offering the type of customer service where cultural and linguistic exploration is a given, because the best slogan translators are skilled at making something look easy that clearly is not.

(This article initially ran in MultiLingual Magazine.)

Europe in Unlikely Places: Localization for Lesser-Spoken Dialects

“Unique dialect, Texas German, taking last gasp.”  The headline for a May 13, 2007 article in the Louisville (Kentucky) Courier-Journal, it certainly grabbed my attention.  As a scholar of all things Southern and of most things linguistic, I wondered why I’d never heard of Texas German before.  In reading, I went on to find that Texas German is “a unique dialect that developed as German settlers came to central Texas in the 1840s.”  Further study lead to the discovery of the Texas German Dialect Project (www.tgdp.org), “an umbrella organization for carrying out research in representative Texas German speech communities in central Texas.”

Most of us have heard of Louisiana (or Cajun) French, the Acadian dialect that slowly developed as people were pushed from France to Canada then down the Mississippi.  Many are also familiar with Pennsylvania Dutch, the German dialect I was taught belonged to the Amish growing up, but which is in reality also spoken by Mennonites, Lutherans, German Reformed, and loads of other people who use electricity.  And then there’s Nebraska with all its Scandinavian language dialects providing splendid dialogue for anything written by Willa Cather.

But Texas German?  I mean, really. 

No offense to Texas, but if I were going to localize a non-English language for the folks who live there, it’d be Spanish these days.

And Spanish does seem to get all the attention.  A quick glance through back issues of Multilingual will uncover at least four articles in the last year which all address the need to make sure we localize for the “right” Spanish for our target market.  These articles are warranted, as the variants are indisputable and specifically requested by many clients in the know.  But how many clients have you had request Texas German?

Granted, Texas German is most likely not spoken in most LSP clients’ target markets.  According to Warren Hahn with that Texas German Dialect Project I brought up earlier, 100,000 people spoke the dialect in its heyday -- right before World War II.  To put that in perspective, according to the last US Census -- conducted in 2000 -- 5,195,182 Texans spoke Spanish as their primary language.  There’s no question where the bigger market is here, people.

But still, it begs the question: exactly how precise does localization need to be?

We’re all aware of the acute need for accuracy in our profession.  It doesn’t matter if Ohioans sit on a couch and Californians sit on a davenport.  If I live in Kentucky, when I go in the furniture store, I want the sign to direct me to sofas.  We all want to see, hear, and read the language we speak the way that we speak it.  Yes, we may all understand that a couch, a davenport, and a sofa are really the same thing, but if you’re wanting to sell me one, I’m going to buy it from the man who calls it what I do.  That’s the one rule of localization even the most difficult client can get: people don’t buy what they don’t understand.  But precisely how much understanding do we need?

In the case of Texas German, the Courier reports the language “is a hybrid, mostly German but altered by English…Spoken, Texas German sounds a lot like modern German…A German speaker could understand 95 percent of what’s said by a person speaking Texas German, and vice versa.”  Maybe it’s just me, but I certainly think that’s enough of an overlap that a separate ISO code really isn’t needed here.

With Louisiana French, the differences between the American dialect and its European, mother language are more evident, or at least get more PR as such.  Francophone culture and language scholars Jean-Benoit Nadeau and Julie Barlow write in their book The Story of French, “[t]he Cajun French dialect is very distinct from Parisian French or even Quebec French.  The influence of English is strong, not only in vocabulary, but in calques such as laisser les bons temps rouler (let the good times roll)…Cajuns preserved different archaisms than those found in Canadian French…They also developed lively expressions of their own, including lache pas la patate (literally don’t drop the potato, meaning don’t give up).”

The United States is full of local linguistic pockets, with 26 different dialects of English alone as defined by linguist Robert Delaney (not to be confused with the former relief pitcher for the Minnesota Twins).  According to his map, I grew up in the middle of dialect number 17 -- nowhere near the border of any other US English dialects.  But my grandfather would have said Mr Delaney was wrong.  We lived in the county and Grandpa always swore that people in town  didn‘t talk like us.  When I started being bused into the county seat for the 6^th grade, I agreed with him.  Their accents and word choices were not the same.  At home, we still used linguistic patterns straight out of Chaucer (ex, I’m a-goin’ for I‘m going) and no one in town used the word polecat for skunk.  (Skunk in Texas German, in case you’re curious, is die Stinkkatze.  The word is part of the 5% distinguishing it from German as spoken in Germany, where they say das Stinktier.)  

Of course, it would be ludicrous for a client to request localization into Christian County, Kentucky English.  It would simply never happen.  But my grandfather’s observation does a-bring us back to precision.  It speaks to that question I raised earlier, the one that comes to light when you realize European languages are long past being just for Europe--that here in the States, all joking aside, hundreds of languages are spoken and many of them used to belong to Europe.

None of this is new information.  You can’t get past kindergarten without learning about immigration and/or colonialism in some small way-- even if it is only making Pilgrim hats and hearing Miles Standish’s name for the first time.  As many a wise man has said, the difference between a language and a dialect is an army.  We all know whose armies came to the Americas and we all know whose armies won: the ones whose languages we speak today.

But when it comes to localization, the lesson our industry is still yet to learn is that when we say US English or US insert-other-European-language-here, maybe we can be a bit more precise -- not to the point of ludicrousy, but rather to the point of -- well -- precision.  Localizing for Texas German or Kentucky English might not be necessary or even possible, but what about localizing for Southern US English or, as the need grows, Southern US Spanish?  Whenever we have a client call in requesting Spanish for the US market, where I work, the first question is where.  As it’s been better said before, US Spanish is a misnomer, often doubling as Cuban Spanish or Mexican Spanish or the ambiguous Latin American Spanish, which is, in of itself, riddled with difficulty.  In our office, when a client requests US Spanish, we ask specifically which state, then look at Census data to see which countries the speakers there are truly more likely to be from, hoping to derive dialect from there.

But just as each European language has its respective American dialects, each language service provider has its capabilities and limitations.  You know your clients’ needs best and if you don’t, I can guarantee they won’t stay your clients for long.  Clients and LSPs must work together to decide how much precision is in fact needed for the sake of the document and for the business relationship we share.  Some clients very much want to watch every word -- others couldn’t give a rip.

In the end, no matter what your policies are on the obscurest of the obscure, there’s only so much any of us can do--no matter which dialect we do it in.  We all must determine for ourselves, on a case by case basis, exactly how precise is precise enough.  And whatever we decide, well, all those Texas German speakers will just have to live with it.

(Please note this blog was originally published in Multilingual.)

Where the Disconnect Is Not

"We are building a bridge." This is the phrase I heard over and over again at the US Conference on African Immigrant Health (USCAIH) this week.

Last week, I blogged on the disconnect. I wrote about how our nation’s leaders were unaware of language’s vital role in healing, how people don’t heal if they don’t understand, how interpreting in of itself is a profession with ethics and rules. The disconnect is there.

But here, with community leaders from all throughout the African Diaspora, the disconnect is not. Instead, there is a concerted effort to bring together aspects of all industries that help people--especially Africans--heal.

I arrived here Wednesday. Our first event was a meet and greet where attendees stood and introduced themselves, explaining what their interest was in African health and what they expected to get from the conference. I identified myself as Terena Bell with In Every Language, said I was here to represent the medical interpreting industry, that I had seen this disconnect and I was here to learn how we could fix it. When I sat down, almost every person in the room said “thank you” and some even clapped. An Ethiopian man walked up to me and instantly started talking about the difficulty of getting trained interpreters in Minneapolis, the need for continued training for those entering the profession. A man from Ghana stood up in front of everyone and talked about how interpreters for Muslim patients need to be culturally aware of faith’s role in healing—and better paid. At Harvard, people wondered why I was even there, had never thought of language as a health-related issue. Here, at the USCAIH, attendees were willing to join with the language industry in its fight.

I am not writing this to compare one conference to the next, or the Alliance for Health in the African Diaspora (the conference organizers) to Harvard. What Harvard does not know is clearly to Harvard’s loss. But, just as I had to point out where the disconnect is, I have to point out where the disconnect is not.

So what makes the difference? Why were these two audiences so different?

I have long said that there are two types of doctors in the world: those who want to make sure their patients understand and those who do not. Perhaps there are similarly two types of people: those who want to help people understand and those who do not. I am not calling the other group cold or cruel. But there are people in this world whose drive and desire to improve their world is innate, unavoidable, a moving, liquid force. I saw that this week in the faces of everyone here. Representatives from all across the African diaspora came together to share, to commune, to--as they put it--build a bridge. They, too, talked about breaking down silos, but they took the time to find out what those silos held.

Friday, I presented on language access for African LEP's. Every single person who heard about my topic said thank you, whether they attended my session or not. Dozens of people said, “We need that.” Most had interpreter stories of their own. A keynote on African Americans living with HIV even had a medical interpreter working from French to English. There is clearly no disconnect here.

But there is a need. They need us. And we need them. After what happened at Harvard, and after the warm reception I received here, I completely changed my presentation. It had initially been on where to get materials, how to get professional translation when materials weren’t there already. But meeting these people and learning more about how active they want to be in every area impacting African American health, I changed it.

There are three factors in LEP patient healing: the patient, the provider, and the language professional. All three must be on top of their game for healing to happen. Like our government, they must be in checks and balances with one another—they must all play their role, but they must also listen. For the patient, I discussed Title VI and HIPAA, the need to know you have a right to a professional, medical interpreter. For the provider, I discussed the need for cross-cultural training in universities and from hospital associations as CME’s. For the language professional, I said we must listen. We must listen to the patient and the provider to learn their need before we can address it. I told the people there that we could not do it without them, that if we as a language profession are wrong, then they must make us stop and listen.

And that’s the difference. As a language industry, we have been speaking, but at Harvard, no one had yet listened. I still believe what I wrote and I stand beside my words. But I also feel cool water flowing from around the rock. We must continue client education, but we must also allow our clients to educate us, listening to each other. If we are truly to build a bridge, we must meet each other in the river with our tools.

Is Our Industry Disconnected from Clients?

There is a disconnect--a divide. The difference between what we know and what our clients know is vast and the gulf that lies between us is insurmountable alone.

This is how I felt walking away from the Harvard Social Enterprise Conference. Held February 28th, its global health track featured leaders from international pharmaceutical companies, the Pentagon, the Obama administration--even George W’s daughter sat a panel under her Global Health Corps role. These, supposedly, were the world’s greatest minds on global health and social enterprise, with Harvard‘s reputation fully stacked behind them. But when it came to language services, they didn‘t know jack.

Here’s what made me realize this:

I was sitting in the back row listening to a panel made up of Barbara Bush, the director of the International Health Specialist Program for the Pentagon (Lt Col Mylene Huynh), Merck’s director of global affairs (Kris Natarajan), Management Services for Health‘s CEO (Jono Quick), and two professors from the Harvard School of Public Health (Drs Jessica Cohen and Till Barnighausen). The topic was “Breaking the Silos: Collaborations That Impact Complex Global Health Issues.” According to the program summary, the session’s goal was to bring together people and information from different fields, all with the goal of improving global health.

When it came time for Q&A, I raised my hand. “People don’t heal if they don’t understand,” I said. “The rest of the world does not speak English.” I then asked what we could do as a language industry to help connect with the global health one.

There was a long pause. Too long. Then Lt Col Huynh from the Pentagon spoke. Bilinguals and heritage speakers need to learn medical terminology. Sure, I thought, that’s a given. The military, she claimed, does not have systems in place to teach medical linguists medical language terms. Okay. Fair enough. She’s acknowledged their need and is speaking out. That, we can address; lessons, we can do.

But then Harvard’s Dr Barnighausen spoke up. And his response made me wonder what I’ve been doing with the last four years of my life, what our industry has been doing the last ten. He told a story about the one time he had worked with a “translator.” He asked the “translator” to ask the patient if his stomach hurt. The “translator” and the patient had a long back and forth conversation before the “translator” said, “No.” Dr Barnighausen’s reaction was to stop working with translators (which is good, as he needs interpreters instead) because “they’re all like that.”

I wanted to weep. I sincerely and utterly wanted to weep. The moderator went on to the next question while I sat there in shock. The camera Harvard was using to record it all (Harvard, conveniently enough, was unable to locate the video upon request) panned away from me and back toward the panel as they continued, but I didn‘t hear a word. I was too in shock. This “expert,” this Dr Barnighausen, wasn’t an expert on language‘s crucial role in health care at all.

This was Harvard. These people were supposed to know what they were doing.

After the session, I ran to the front to try and catch Dr Barnighausen. If, for some reason, our entire industry, the multiple associations that we have, the whole of both certification movements, had not been able to reach him, I would. But I didn‘t. The moderator carted him away before we had the chance to talk. I did get to speak with Lt Col Huynh, though. I told her how glad I was she articulated her answer so clearly, how much I appreciated the information. I told her how much Dr Barnighausen’s remarks had pained me, then what she said pained me even more. “But he’s right. They’re all like that.”

I immediately started gushing about the National Council on Interpreting in Health Care, its code of ethics, the certification for medical interpreters expected this fall. “You mean there are ethics?” she said, “This is a profession?”

This woman works for the Pentagon. She is in charge of our entire military’s medical efforts.

Clearly, there is a disconnect. It is wide and vast and sprawling.

As a language industry we are working hard--harder than ever before--to develop interpreting as a profession. We have more trade associations than ever before, more conferences than in years past, more training opportunities than before. But do they help? And, if so, whom?

There is a disconnect. When representatives of our own government, professors at the country’s purported top school--when our nation’s leaders have never heard of us--when they stand aghast at the sheer principle of our having ethics--when they think we’re all bilingual quacks who summarize--what are we doing wrong? Who are our efforts for?

Conference after conference, session after session, we talk, but to each other. We must talk to the client. We must talk to those who need to listen. Instead of teaching Bridging the Gap, we should be bridging the gap between us and our clients.

But how? In the past, this has fallen on the freelancer, on the LSP, on the person selling the services. That’s why we call it client education. But the LSP can not tackle this great gap by itself. The language industry is being squeezed. Rates are falling, client demands are going up. If the LSP refocuses its effort to focus on client education, the burning of resources will mean there is no LSP left. We need our associations to help us. Clients do not always believe freelancers or LSP’s because they assume we have something to sell. But if the associations would work together to sell clients on our industry, there’s no telling who or how many people we could help.

We must close the disconnect. We must stop thinking intrinsically and think externally. Educational PSA’s on YouTube, an NCIHC booth at global health conferences. Our associations must market this industry just as we LSP’s market our services. There should be no excuse for our nation’s leaders to know so little. Again, there should be no excuse for our nation’s leaders to know so little!

Where are we going wrong? How can we take this talking together and make it working together to educate the client? How do we bridge the disconnect?

Part Six: How Do I Monitor an Agency’s Performance?

(Back to Part 5.)

There are a number of ways to monitor an agency’s performance. One is to track requests filled, requests returned, no-show and late arrival rates, billing error rates, complaints from providers, responsiveness, resolution of problems, and reoccurrence of problems. This data can usually be tracked electronically on a routine basis with a minimum of effort.

Another way is to actively solicit feedback from your front-desk and provider staff about the agency, either through routine feedback or periodic surveys. How easy is it to order an interpreter? How often do the interpreters arrive late? Are the interpreters polite? Do they engage in appropriate protocols? Do staff members have any reason to comment on the quality of the interpretation? While actively requesting feedback from the people who are using the agency on a daily basis is more cumbersome than electronic tracking, it is the best way of monitoring how the agency is doing.

Source: Roat, Cynthia E. “How to Choose and Use a Language Agency: A Guide for Health and Social Service Providers Who Wish to Contract With Language Agencies.” Los Angeles: The California Endowment, February 2003.

Part Five: How Do I Use an Agency?

(Back to Part 4.)

A few words on working with agencies: each agency will be a bit different in how it does business. How organized you are internally, however, will have a large affect on how smoothly the collaboration goes.

First of all, make sure your internal systems are in place. It should be clear to employees when the need for an interpreter should be noted, who is responsible for ordering the interpreter and how that is to be done. In addition, staff should know who has the responsibility to cancel the interpreter if the patient cancels, whose responsibility it is to sign the interpreter in and out if you require signed encounter forms, and whose responsibility it is to dismiss the interpreter if the patient does not show up. While doing all this by phone may be easier, doing all transactions by fax will leave a paper trail that may be important in case of disputes.

When you order the interpreter, you should be able to provide the patient’s name and some sort of identification number, the provider’s name and the date, time and location of the appointment. Also, be sure you know about how long you’ll need the interpreter; it is very expensive to overbook an interpreter’s time since you are paying by the hour, however it is also nonproductive to underbook an interpreter who then may need to leave for another appointment before the first one is completed. Additional information that is helpful for the interpreter to know is the patient’s gender and age, as this gives the interpreter important clues as to how the patient should be addressed. Finally, any information you can give the agency as to the nature of the appointment will allow the interpreter to come better prepared.

The most important part in working with an agency is clear communication. If you have a concern or complaint, a quality agency will want to know about it. The agency becomes part of your language access team, so the better the teamwork, the more effective your interpreter service.

Source: Roat, Cynthia E. “How to Choose and Use a Language Agency: A Guide for Health and Social Service Providers Who Wish to Contract With Language Agencies.” Los Angeles: The California Endowment, February 2003.

(Go to Part 6.)

The Vendor-Client Relationship

Thanks go to Rina Ne'eman with Rina Ne’eman Hebrew Language Services for finding this video and showing it at this year's TCD conference:

Translation: The Key to Excellent Customer Service

Foreign language translation could be your key to better customer service and to higher sales.

There's a German saying that I love to quote: If I'm selling, I'll speak English, but if I'm buying, Sie mussen deutsch sprecken (you have to speak German). I like that sentence because it points out the one thing that American companies seem to get right domestically, but not internationally: customer service comes first.

Here in the land of "the customer is always right," we tend to think that the customer always speaks English. And, a lot of the time, we're right. In Denmark, for example, English is taught from elementary school up. English is the most popular foreign language taught to grade schoolers in the EU and has quickly become a powerful language of commerce throughout all of Asia. But just because someone speaks a language doesn't mean that they speak it well or that you should expect them to. Your customers may speak English, but when it comes to strengthening your sales, is English the language of customer service?

Papa Johns International, CNN, Wells Fargo, the American Lung Association, Lowe's, even the IRS--across multiple industries, through online and print advertising, American business are starting to tap into the 52 million people in this country who speak a language other than English at home. These people just aren't immigrants; they're a target market. That's why companies like Bank of America, DISH Network, and AT&T are offering their websites in Spanish--because they want to reach out to this market. Because if they don't reach out to them, someone else will and their money--that sale--will go to the competition. Trick of the matter is, however, if you want to reach them, you can't do it in English. According to the US Census Bureau, in 2005, over 29 percent of all Spanish speakers, 22 percent of Asian and Pacific Islander speakers, and more than 13 percent of Indo-European speakers in the US today speak English "not well" or "not at all." This is in a country where English is the spoken vernacular, the language of education and commerce, the main language used for publishing and broadcasting news, as well as the language used in the medical field. This is the United States of America, where there is a higher concentration of English speakers than anywhere else in the world. Yet even here, you can not assume that your customer speaks English.

This is only if you do business domestically. If you want to do business on an international scale, you must also think and act internationally. You may not speak French, but if you are selling to the French, you need to at least learn how to say "Bonjour." Like the German saying I quoted earlier, a German business man looking to buy will buy from the salesman who uses German.

American companies are known worldwide for their superb capabilities for customer service. And while many might argue that it is harder to get waited on in a store than it used to be, that is still the mantra of sales in America today. The customer comes first. The customer is always right. The customer is our top priority. This is why I find it shocking that many companies doing business in non-English speaking countries fail to see the practicality of foreign language use. It's simply good customer service--communicating with them, marketing to them, and making deals with them in a language they can understand.

So, in a nation where many of our top execs and graduating talent pool do not speak a foreign language, where does this leave us? The world changes quickly. One minute, the popular business country is Japan. Then it's India. Then it's China, then it's India again. And not everyone is good at learning languages. Some people, no matter how hard they try, just can't get past lesson six. And it may not be cost or time effective to become fluent in the language of every company you have dealings with.

This is where translation comes in. This is why the translation industry exists--because someone has to be there to break the communication barrier. My company, In Every Language, for example, offers services in 155 different languages. There is no way any single employee could become fluent in 155 different languages. Translation companies therefore save businesses time and money by doing the linguistic legwork for them. It's why we're here. It's our job. We speak those languages so you don't have to. For a just a few cents per word, translators can get your material in front your buyers in a language they can understand.

Yes, translation costs money. But how much money could a good translation make you? If you made one dollar from every non-English speaking American, the US Census Bureau says you'd make 12 million bucks. 12 million. You may or may not see the benefits of reaching out to the non-English speaking market, but you can bet your competition does. And once they already have that market, there may not be much room in it left for you. We all know the power of brand loyalty. If your competition achieves brand loyalty before you do, you may one day have to spend money on translation just to stay alive. Wouldn't you rather spend that money on making a profit?

Translation services are therefore not just a way to provide customer service, but they're a way to increase your sales. Customer service does come first, but in this case, customer service goes out before you, paving your way to profits and sales success.