European LSP frustration with the US: a typical example

When discussing the problems of a European language service provider (LSP) working with customers in the US, a friend remarked recently that alles, was sich außerhalb ihrer Landesgrenzen abspielt, existiert für Amerikaner nicht... sie sind einfach zu dämlich.

I suppose dem should be fightin' words and I should defend the honor of my countrymen, but the guy is too often right.

I decided long ago that it is seldom worth the bother to do business with those in my country of origin. But that was so long ago that the reasons had faded in my mind, and when I was approached recently by a polite PR rep for a small translation (a page and a half press release) for a trade show in Germany, I thought why not? 

My quotation was accepted without much delay, and then came the familiar request for me to fill out (on behalf of the German limited company that would be invoicing) a W-9 and several pages of a New Vendor Authorization form that asked if my company is a Small Business Concern and asked me to to mark the relevant categories:

• Small Business Certification (SBC) self certified 
• Small Disadvantaged (including minority-owned) Business (SDB) 
• Women-Owned Small Business (WOSB) 
• Veteran-Owned Small Business (VOSB) 
• Service-Disabled Veteran-Owned Small Business (SDVOSB) 
• HUBZone Small Business concern (Historically Underutilized Business Zone) certified by the US Small Business Administration 

And I was to supply my Dun & Bradstreet number. And there were terms and conditions, which as I scanned them set off a good number of alarms. I have terms and conditions under which I work, and I have no interest in other terms with more words than the text to translate.

Life's too short. I gave her the name of a nice agency local to her. I hope they can help her out.

It puzzles me that someone involved with international clients can be utterly unaware that US forms like the W-9 have no relevance to contractors abroad, but I've found that this and other misconceptions are the rule rather than the exception among my business contacts on the other side of the Pond. And the idea that I would need to juggle paperwork like that for a small, one-off job is more puzzling still. Had I known in advance that this would be expected, I could have added two hours of administrative fees to the quote for the translation of less than 500 words.

Perhaps I've squandered a marvelous opportunity here, and I certainly hope the person wasn't insulted by my rather abrupt about-face on the quote. But I find that good business is usually very simple.

Juggling formats

Juggling formats has probably been an issue for translators since ancient days when the various media of stone, clay and papyrus required different tools and sets of skills. And the Babel of formats has only gotten worse over the millenia as any practicing translator knows instinctively. It often seems that the portion of time spent on actual translation diminishes as customers submit documents with insane mark-up schemes that require graduate studies in formal logic to sort out. Some time ago, I published a little PDF guide on preparing MS Word and PDF files with content to exclude, i.e. cases like when a customer asks you to "translate only the green text, proofread the hot pink text, pray for the red text and ignore the rest". I thought I had pretty much covered all the cases when last night I received a help request from a charming colleague who had read the instructions but still couldn't sort out what to do with her particular project. It was actually a scenario I had described - copying text to translate from one column into another and hiding the original source column - but in her case, only the green text in the source column had to be copied over for translation with a translation environment tool. Minor variation on an old theme.

But there are sooooo many of these variations. I had one yesterday that had me baffled. Three simple Excel spreadsheets that refused to import into memoQ. I was really baffled by this one until Kilgray's support department offered the following explanation and workaround:

Hi Kevin,

As far as I know this error message occurs when embedded tables are present in the Excel document. At the moment unfortunately memoQ cannot import the files you have sent us in this format. I can suggest two workarounds in this case:

- You can convert the embedded tables to ranges, please check out the following guide:

http://office.microsoft.com/en-us/excel-help/convert-an-excel-table-to-a-range-of-data-HA010067555.aspx

- You can save the XLS file as Excel 2003 XML format in Excel, then this XML file can be imported to memoQ with the Excel2003 filter. After you have exported this XML file you can save it as XLS in Excel.

These suggestions work, but by the time I got the timely response I had already gone another way copying table content into MS Word, the re-importing it to Excel via OpenOffice to avoid getting messed up by line breaks in the cells. All a bit complex and time consuming, all of it an unwanted distraction from what I would much rather do: concentrate on producing the best translated text I can.

I have about 38 years of IT experience of various kinds, though for much of that time computers played a supporting role for other interests. But still I'm reasonable good at sorting out data migration puzzles, format nightmares and the like give a little time to ponder matters (though, alas, in our profession, time is one element that is often missing). However, lately I am often hard put to find solutions for some of the crazy format challenges presented. And if I find things a bit nightmarish, what must others with less geeky histories be experiencing? Something is definitely wrong with this picture. More than webinars, training courses and dummy books is called for, but I can't say what. And the high priests of complexity, the witch doctors who make a good living as consultants from other people's confusion, see the problem as a opportunity... and perhaps that is part of the problem.

Blessed Is the Mess

Cleanliness is much overrated. Order too. Unfortunately for me, I live with a partner obsessed with cleanliness (she thinks of the dishwasher as a sort of autoclave where dishes are placed for sterilization after they are washed with copious quantities of soap) in a country noted for its historical obsessions with "order", a few wonderfully chaotic exceptions like my ex-nephew notwithstanding. I've never bought into that "next to godliness" nonsense, and I've always found that undisturbed paper strata on my desk, tabletops and window sills are a very cost-effective archiving strategy, but once in a while I'll let myself get tricked into a bit of spring cleaning. Always a bad idea, and today was no exception. I figured that after not seeing the naked ground under the present blanket of snow, I might fight cabin fever by getting the jump on spring and cleaning a bit now. Also, more than a year and a half after moving into the new house and offices, I figured it was time to unpack a few boxes.

One of the first things I found was an unopened Christmas letter from a cousin with urgent questions regarding our joint genealogy research which require my translation skills. He decided to send his query as a letter instead of the usual e-mail. I suppose I'll answer his question, but as a matter of courtesy to his wife, I'll check to be sure he's still alive. The letter was dated Christmas 2001, and I figure he's about 85 now.

The note from the IRS dated 2007 requesting that I clear up some matter isn't nearly as old, so I figure it still has time. I won't owe them anything, but I suppose I'll have to explain that to them before I turn 85 or change my citizenship.

There was a mysterious check for $73.48 from the year 2000. A refund for God-knows-what. Written to me at an address where I have never lived. Or so I thought; the address might be for a small office apartment I rented once. Maybe it's a refund on a deposit of some sort. Unfortunately, the bank on which it was written no longer exists. Washington Mutual melted down some time ago.

Somewhat more encouraging was the deposit slip from a business checking account which I forgot about when I left the country more than 10 years ago. It's probably been closed and the funds sent to some custodial account with the state of Oregon. At least that's what used to happen in California. So if I find the time to research the matter, there may be a bonus of some hundreds or thousands of dollars waiting for me. Perhaps I can buy that drilling after all.

Then there were the old court records detailing my attempts to enjoy a holiday with my daughter after I moved to Germany. Mostly it didn't work, despite the fact that I won every court case. De facto joint custody doesn't mean much here if you are a man. My favorite paper was the "contract" I signed pledging my dog as a hostage and promising not to leave Europe during two weeks of vacation. Can't risk the kid spending time with cousins, y'know. She might get the idea that there are real people outside of Lower Saxony.

The consulting contract I discovered in which I was to receive a percentage of revenues for sales of software in the Netherlands appears to be in force still. I think the board member who signed it neglected to cancel it when he was purged 6 years ago. Who knows? Maybe I can get a Maserati after I collect the overdue commissions and interest. Or at least a used 4WD jeep that can make it through a muddy field. But I don't look forward to the hassle of enforcement.

So the day is shot and tomorrow's translation is still on the to-do list. No sense of accomplishment at having emptied three of the twenty or so boxes taking up half my office. I'm not sure I want to know what surprises the rest hold. Some might find the accumulation oppressive, but I see it quite the opposite: let it rest in peace.

Colleague Chris Irwin comments:

Despite having a good idea of the exemplary and logically-reasoned thinking that you variously demonstrate in the 'how-tos' on your profile, in your blog, in various other forums and indeed in the course of chats together, I feel that you are (unusually) lost for the right word here. it is in fact so: the "mess" represents a deeper order. In my case, that order is deeper than the Marianas Trench. I think that you should mention that word to any cynics, be they domestic or otherwise: It is quantum physics. Tell them that the mess is a causal dynamical triangulation and challenge them to argue. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self-organized_criticality

(a repost of the original contribution on the Watercooler, February 2010)