A few weeks back I was contacted by a woman in town about working as an interpreter on a US ship that would be coming to town at some point this spring. I had expected the work to take place in March, and calculated that Noah would be a "bottle baby" by then, making things easy on me, but...well...the Navy came to town a couple of months too early for that! Needless to say, I jumped at the chance to work on the ship and started up my first day of interpreting with three other ladies on a Friday in January.
On our first day to the ship it was explained to us that in response to growing US interest in West Africa (
oil) the US Navy has embarked upon a new mission dubbed the Africa Partnership Station. From this point forward there will be a US ship (or ships?) somewhere off the west coast of Africa at all times. The ships will be manned with an international crew, and this particular ship has a crew representing many European nations while also carrying a number of African "ship riders" who apparently came aboard at some point along the trip. The goal will be not only to provide maritime security along the African coast, but more importantly, to teach the African nations how to protect their own coasts, maintain their ships, track and stop illegal fishing, react in a medical emergency, and much more. An additional goal for the sailors on board is to carry out goodwill work in each country, including re-roofing schools, building orphanages and delivering prepacked meals to the poor. Looks like an interesting (and welcome!) change in US foreign policy to me.
See here for a military explanation:
Stars and StripesEach week I drive to the port twice to teach French in one of the oil companies located there, but on my first day driving out to the ship I was very excited to see the outline of the USS Fort
McHenry wayyyyyyyyyy off in the distance!
And here she is, right at the end of the road, nestled in among the "traditional" African
paraphernalia on either side of the road. What a rush it was to know there was a whole community of Americans visiting Port-
Gentil for a week!
The interpreters' job, we were told that day, was for each of us to join a specific training course and interpret between the US navy "teacher" and the Gabonese navy "students". There would be one interpreter per course, and we could decide which interpreter would cover which course. One subject was martial arts (!!), another was about how to
manoeuvre small boats out at sea (
wooo-
hooo!), and then there was tropical medicine (interesting) and computers (no one wanted to interpret for that one).
Ratri (Indonesian), Mary (Nigerian) and I were excited and ready to get the interpreting underway! (Fourth interpreter
Elodie from France took the picture, with the USS Fort McHenry behind her back.) As Port-
Gentil is a tiny town, we already knew each other and were very happy to be working together on the ship.
Containers had been stacked two high and were being used to protect the ship from any possible danger on land. A little welcome tent was then erected in front of the
blockade and used as an assembly point each morning for the Gabonese military men arriving for training.
Out at sea were four well-armed small boats guarding the port side of the ship (I actually learned port from starboard while interpreting). I sure felt sorry for those guys out there day and night under the hot African sun and in the harsh tropical rains! Click to enlarge.
I was quickly asked to run to the head of the line of Gabonese soldiers to interpret between the US sailor signing everyone in and each individual as they approached the table on the first day. While there were seemingly hundreds of Gabonese sailors ready to board the ship for training, the vast majority had brought nothing but the uniform they wore as ID. Most acted quite surprised and relatively offended when I asked them to present proof of identification. "What? Are we in school?" asked one outraged sailor, while another one told me that military men from one country should automatically be accepted by the military of another.
I got so frustrated with their comments that I took it upon myself to break out of interpretation mode at one point and tell the Gabonese sailors that this was a safety measure and that surely they couldn't expect to board a US military ship without ID, could they?!!!!! The bemused young US sailor signing them all in told me the situation had been similar in all other African countries visited so far, although he couldn't understand why. It seems, I responded, that the military is above the law in Africa, and it's only ordinary citizens (and expats) who are expected to carry ID at all times. We had a good laugh a while later when we saw a group of civilian nurses approach the table, each with ID in hand!
Here's a shot of one of the few Gabonese sailors to bring ID on that first day.
And here's one I snapped of the nurses boarding as we were all entering the ship for the first time.
Next post tomorrow!
First things first, though, as we needed to climb down a dangling rope ladder (to the right in the picture) to get into the boat we'd be learning to drive. I did my best to put on a face that said "this is sooooo old hat" and climbed down with feigned ease right behind the US instructor. Nobody laughed at me so I let myself believe I had pulled it off like a pro.
The instructors pulled the boats out from the dock while the Gabonese students and I prepared mentally for our first lesson. Although I've been told many African people are quite smiley, I can tell you that this is decidedly not the case with the Gabonese. Their constant poker faces throughout the week made many of the instructors wonder if they were enjoying themselves at all. The Americans quickly taught the Gabonese how to high five and what it meant (which I interpreted as best I could as "cinq dans l'air") so that as each sailor left his position driving the boat he could at least high five the instructor, proving in some small way that he was indeed having fun.
The instructors were all very outgoing and lively, appearing to be genuinely enjoying their job. This is Jason Dean on the right here in the picture below, a nice fella who said "New Hampshire?! Jeeeeeeesh, that's a place you just never hear about" when I told him where I had grown up. Must say I feel quite the same about Missouri (of all the places to be from!), which he pronounces Mizurrah, of course. After many long talks, though, Jason was able to convince me that his state is one that just may be worth my visiting one day. Who knew?
And here is Christal, the kick-butt female boat-maneuvering instructor. Her presence incited numerous questions among the Gabonese sailors for me to interpret for her, including "How old are you?" "Are you married?" "Do you have kids?" and "Why did you join the military?". I won't give you the answers here as it may embarrass her, but I must say she was awfully patient, giving honest answers to everything, albeit with a hint of a blush once in a while.
After a while out at sea we pulled up next to one of the security boats for a chat. Christal told me when not teaching these classes she often works shifts on one of these boats.
This guy was my favorite student. He was a "ship rider" from Cameroon and had this exact smile pasted on his face the whole week. I guess he felt as lucky as I did to be learning to drive a small military boat! Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!
We spent the whole day out at sea (save a break for some mystery meat back on board the ship), with the whole class encouraging me to try out all the moves too. We've since learned that the ship and crew will be back in March, and I can't wait to do this all over again!
