LAST Sunday I wrote that the first-time winners in the state election would be proud to be part of an ancient institution, the Council Negri, now called the Dewan Undangan Negeri (DUN).
FLASHBACK: Speaker Dr Sockalingam (second right) and his staff enter the chamber.
Just in case some readers skipped that particular piece for something more interesting such as the election results, one cannot ignore the fact that the first meeting of the Council took place 144 years ago. For two days — Sept 8-9, 1867 — the Council met in Bintulu. It was chaired by Charles Brooke, the Rajah Muda of Sarawak.
From humble beginnings, the meeting held in a small building in the belacan town, the Council has become such an important symbol of government that every politician in town wants a seat inside what one tourist from Australia called the ‘lemon squeezer’.
Who was the Speaker to call that meeting to order, one can only guess: Charles doubling as chairman and Speaker?
My association with the Council was through the back door, literally. It was in 1966 that Hasbie Sulaiman and I were appointed part-time translators for the Council for a princely sum of 30 dollars per day of sitting. If the Council session lasted for a week, such as during the Budget Session in December, we would have a good reason to go to the bank.
Each time the Speaker entered the Chamber at exactly 9.30am, everybody had to stand up and bow their heads towards the Chair where he seated himself.
We did simultaneous translations, Hasbie from Malay to English and vice versa, and me, from Iban to English / Iban. The state constitution allowed the use of any native language in the Chamber within 10 years of the formation of Malaysia in 1963. There were quite a number among the Honourable Members of the august House who needed some help from the translators, especially with the Bills written in English.
Hasbie and I operated in a small room with opaque glass windows, very much like a control tower at the airport, and were not required to stand as we had to take the cue from Dato Sri John Nichol, the Sergeant-at-Arms, who announced in English. “Mister Speaker!” with the loudest voice he could muster. And we would simultaneously echo and translate this call into “Tuan Speaker!”
We sat next to each other in the tight cubicle sharing a microphone with our ears plugged in direct communication with the Council Members and Officials who had their earphones on all the time.
There was never a boring moment inside that box though at times we wished we could have more fresh air especially when Ong Kee Hui of SUPP took the floor during the Committee Stage of the Supply Bill. He wanted to know details of each item of the proposed expenditure in the budget. During this examination of the estimates of expenditure for the following year, the Speaker did not allow any debate on the principle of the Bill, it having been dealt with during the debates on the Governor’s Speech earlier.
It was mostly confined to questions and answers about the cost of a particular item or the necessity of spending so much money on state dinners or on new cars for the ministers. The translator’s job is to literally translate verbatim each question like “Nama kabuah mar amat rega motorcar menteri” (Why are the cars for ministers so expensive?) or “Udah enda kereta lama ulih lelong PWD?” (Have the old cars been auctioned by the PWD?). “Udah magang, bisi untung mimit” (Yes, sold with some profit), answered the Financial Secretary.
Tick off from the Speaker
Debates in the chamber could be lively and entertaining, especially when James Wong was holding the floor with his idiomatic English or when Ong Kee Hui displayed his array of terminology in Agronomy. Both were familiar with technical terms in agriculture as they were trained at Serdang Agricultural College, but the translators had problems translating those terms into Malay or Iban.
When in trouble with such words, we resorted to the English terms. No complaint was ever made; the common grumble was that we were sometimes inaudible. We also complained that we could not catch up with some Members as they were speaking too quickly.
Once I did not translate exchanges between James Wong and Ling Beng Siong over James’ complaint of the lack of roads in Limbang, the town he represented. Ling Beng Siong answered in Iban. I let them bash each other and to me it was perfectly all right – no translation needed.
However, after Ong Kee Hui joined in the fray and finished, the Speaker adjourned the meeting and called me into his chamber.
Before I could sit down, Dr Sockalingam asked me about the silence on my part. He asked “What was the quarrel between Beng Siong and James Wong?” and why Kee Hui sided with James. As the Speaker, he stressed, it was his job to know what the quarrel was all about.
I assured him there was no quarrel; the Member for Limbang wanted to find out when the road to Rumah Ngang in Nanga Medamit would be completed and when Limbang would have a bigger airstrip.
Dr Sockalingam said, “You did not translate the exchanges did you?”
I answered meekly that it was my fault, feeling so sorry for myself and promising never to ignore the Chair again.
Simultaneous translations
Simultaneous translation was a most fascinating exercise but at times frustrating whenever you could hardly hear what was being said during a debate. You couldn’t have asked the person speaking to repeat as he was addressing the Chair.
Exchanges were often lively and one imagined one was a participant. One slowed down as the person speaking toned down, accelerating the pace as he did, reading his body language all the time. The prepared speeches were preferred as the texts were submitted earlier and there was time to do mental translation by digesting the contents as much as possible.
Just to digress a bit, when in 1971, I was in New York together with visitors from the Labour Party in Britain to observe how various committees of the United Nations conducted their meetings, I was asked what particular aspect of the UN functions I would like to see. I chose to observe how the translators did their job. I was fascinated listening to simultaneous translations from the speaker’s own language to other languages all done at the same time by over 100 translators inside their cubicles much larger than the one in which Hasbie and I were working in Kuching five years previously.
How I wished I had the opportunity to work in that UN building in New York. Those experts at translation must have been well paid per day.
Although Hasbie and I never spoke outside the room where we operated, for all intents and purposes we felt we also played an important role that the person speaking not well versed in Malay or Iban would not do without.
In a small way we could claim to be little clogs in the wheel of that great institution too, even though we had no chance to speak outside the box.
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