Unless

There is something about the courage of others that makes us extremely nervous. It calls into question every safe decision we’ve ever made, and forces us to ask what we’re really protecting when we do things in the most comfortable way possible. [...]

 The biggest regrets we have [...] are the decisions we don’t make because we think we’re guaranteed something. We choose college because we think we’re guaranteed a job. We choose staying home because we think not traveling guarantees more money. We choose not leaving our hometown because we think it guarantees us friends and comfort. We choose to stay in unfulfilling relationships because we think it guarantees we will never be alone. [...]

And then we are confronted with the reality that none of this was ever guaranteed, and we only gave up on the thrill of our dreams because we were too afraid to see what else was possible. We convinced ourselves that we were investing in something, when all we were doing was excusing our cowardice.

in The Things You Will Always Regret If You Don't Do Them by Charlotte Green

I was thinking about having to save money, about it being too great a risk, about not being able to do it on my own. Then I spoke to my friend for a long time and, as always, she had the answers. Or rather, she knew how to ask the right questions. I went online and proceeded to book the ticket to London for 4 days. Because why not. Because I shouldn't fear my own capacity to discover what is new. Because that is why I left home, after all. Not to study at some silly hippy university that can't provide paper to its students during exams and doesn't even have a remotely decent library. Not to get into student debt for the first time in my life. Not to miss my people so very much. No. I left to see the new.

And now my attempt at adventure has been foiled by a tiny fact: lack of a credit card. Should I not be rewarded for my wanting to pay it all by debit? Hah. No. Anyways. New plan. New destination. Kopenhagen can be reached by train. And the Bahn accepts my card. Always onward, tilting at inner windmills.

Wunderbar

My online purchasing habits have been restricted to books, DVDs and concert tickets. But a few weeks ago Mr Price launched their online retail store, and I decided to check if it works or whether one should stick to going to the actual shops. 

The website was easy to use, registration was fine and overall the whole 'ordering stuff you want'-part was also quickly done.  I thought that delivery would take at least a week, but my order was sent yesterday ( yay for tracking your purchase online) and arrived this morning. Amazing. If I ever decide to become a complete hermit at least I know I can order everything I need from the web. The sandals I requested were too small, but the rest fit fine. I am superimpressed that everything went so smoothly. And the sandals can be sent back or exchanged at any of the Mr Price stores, which are all over. 

Oh yeah, I totally bought those colourful pantalones. 

Same in any language

About thirty people are shouting at me, enthusiastically. "Commerce!Commerce!Commerce!" I am bewildered. What arrrrrre they saying? Because they are all speaking at the same time, and not in unison, I don't really know, but smile politely and pretend to have understood.

Today was the first day I ever interpreted, officially. At the moment the university is hosting a course for diplomats from francophone countries in Africa, and some of the Masters and Honours students are helping with the interpreting. Most of the visitors do understand English, but to make some points clearer it helps to have someone. Perhaps that someone is not me, yet.

The diplomats know we aren't professionals, but still I was stressing. It was like a first date, except that the butterflies in my stomach were evil and eating my insides. I prepared, read some articles, found some terminology I thought was relevant, and remembered to translate, above all, "le sens" (the sense) and not the individual words. But what you do at home is not the same as when you have to interpret words and acronyms that you don't even know in English.

After a while I decided to fuck translating the slides and simply pronouncing English words in a French way. I just made notes, and when I didn't know the word or expression, the group was more than willing to help. They were all very friendly and understanding, and after an hour, I felt a lot more at ease. I'm sure a professional would have cringed and thought that it was a bit of a pathetic effort.

But the diplomats came up to me afterwards to say "good job" and to give advice on how to improve, which is great. I think good interpretation comes with experience. I'm glad I tried this, and will do so again for Wednesday's session. It can only get better.

Someone ( I found either Roosevelt or Vonnegut as sources) said that you should do something everyday that scares you. I'm scared of lizards, sharks and people breaking into my house/car and hurting me. Academia normally doesn't scare me. Speaking in front of people is also mostly fine. This, however, was terrifying. It was the fear of not understanding, of misinterpreting, of not finding the right words, of embarrassing myself, and most importantly, of failing.

But without trying, you can neither succeed nor fail. So suck it, evil intestine-eating butterflies. I got this.