#walangaraw “tailend of a cold front” may be translated as…

           Since it is a rainy morning of Christmas Eve, news anchors and weather forecasters went to town explaining the phenomenon as precipitation resulting from the “tail end of a cold front”. And since many news programs are in Filipino, nagpiyesta ang mga tagapagbalita sa pagsalin ng “tail end of a cold front” (reporters and anchors had a field day translating “tail end of a cold front”)… Alvin and Doris asked the PAGASA weather forecaster to translate it and got a reply “talagang yan ho ang ginagamit natin, tail end of a cold front…” (“well, we don’t translate it, that’s how we use it, tail end of a cold front).

          So, Alvin and Doris in between giggles, made an effort to translate it to: “buntot ng malamig na … (giggling hihihihi) malamig na … harap? harapan? hinaharap … eh hindi naman kasi pwedeng ganyan… maghanap tayo ng pwedeng magpaliwanag nyan, hindi naman pwedeng literal, ano” (“the tail of a cold… (giggling hihihihi) a cold …frontal…?” Filipinos usually use the Filipino equivalent “hinaharap” of the English word “front” to refer to breasts, hence the giggles.)
 

           To be fair, PAGASA has superbly translated LPA (low pressure area) a long time ago, into “namumuong sama ng panahon”. (or a brewing weather disturbance, translation of the translation of the translation, mine, with apologies) See the PAGASA translation compared to the English term? The PAGASA translation conveys more information and it’s not literal, they derived it from its meaning.

        (i’ve had angst about weather reporting as early as two years ago in :
https://marichulambino.com/2012/07/03/failures-of-weather-reporting-the-so-called-low-pressure-area/ but got tired of ranting about it, so when I first heard PNoy in his televised speech warning about Typhoon Yolanda use the term “storm surge”, … i thought etc etc but all was lost after that )

           Last August, in class discussions on disaster-reporting, we pointed out that the government agencies failed to explain “storm surge”, to which a student pointed out that the Project NOAH website posted in the net a forecast that the storm surge from Yolanda would result in waves 5 meters high, to which i replied, “don’t just give it in meters, tell me it will be: mga alon na kasing laki ng bahay (I pointed to the ceiling, we were on the second floor) kasingtaas ng building na ito, Filipinos cannot see it in numbers, describe it comparatively, then give visuals, then, a simulation…” Fortunately, this November, that was how the storm surge of Typhoon Ruby (Hagupit) was described “mga alon na kasinglaki ng bahay, isang palapag ng bahay”, while pictographs putting the waves on scale with a nipa hut and a coconut tree were used. An improvement that could be suggested would be computer-generated simulation, either using animation or real video of similar events. There are many talented students in the University who can produce this, just say the word. I also pointed out that Typhoon Yolanda was categorized as Signal Number 4, and said that was not Signal Number 4— I have seen Signal Number 4 and that wasn’t Signal Number 4, that was beyond Signal Number 4, that was off the charts.

        And as texts sent to reporters and news directors earlier: to consider using the term “Supertyphoon” when it warrants, i.e., when it is being used internationally to describe an oncoming weather disturbance (like Hagupit) , even if PAGASA refuses to use it, PAGASA says it has to be conferenced before it can be used officially etc. etc. Well, a news report can put it in quotes, since PAGASA is not using the term officially. “Supertyphoon” is easily understood by laypeople: a woman-on-the-street interviewed randomly in a news report replied she knew supertyphoon as: “oho, alam ko ho yun, iyung… walang matitirang bahay.” (“yes, we know that… that’s when… houses would be wiped out/ no structure would be left standing”).See how much more picturesque a man-on-the-street/ woman-on-the-street could describe it…?

       Never translate literally.

         For scientific terms, the trick is to look up the meaning of the technical term, then derive your translation from the meaning as explained in the existing research and studies on it, then test your translation (if you have time), with an audience to see how it is understood. There are many able researchers who can perform such studies in the University, just say the word.

            (For literature, such as poems, lyrics, sonnets, etc, translating is trickier: poets, lyricists, and writers do not usually provide a write-up explaining the meaning behind every line of their work. So… what you could do is to research the author’s own translation of his/her work, if any. If none, you could search for a translation that the author himself/ herself had approved. If none, you could search for a translation by a professional writer that has been vetted by a reputable publishing house. If none, you could ask a professional writer who is bilingual or who has published in both languages, to translate it for you. The last resort is to translate the poem yourself but do not translate literally: try to derive the emotional content of the verse, and then, after you think you got the context right, try to make your lines as metered and lyrical as the poet made his/ hers. Tricky, right? Sting, instead of saying “i-miss-you-it’s-driving-me-crazy” says…. “… from the dark secluded valleys…I hear the ancient songs of sadness…every step I thought of you…Every footstep only you…Every star a grain of sand…The leavings of a dried up ocean…Tell me, how much longer…How much longer?”, and you see shades of Shakespeare and William Blake there (of course it’s so much easier to write “i-miss-you”; and even easier to text “misyu” and even easiest to tweet the millennial ❤ , which is supposed to be the shape of a heart for crying out loud).

             

             Fortunately, this is a scientific term, so you can look up the meaning and derive the translation from there.

           “Tail end of a cold front”. From the “Meteorology Glossary” of the American Meteorological Society “Any nonoccluded front, or portion thereof, that moves so that the colder air replaces the warmer air; that is, the leading edge of a relatively cold air mass.” So, that’s how scientists explain it.

         Hold your horses before you translate from that definition.

        Look at it. Does that give you any information?

         From that definition, you could get the following: “colder air that replaces the warmer air…the leading edge of a relatively cold air mass…”

          Not enough though. To get more information, look up “front” because “cold” is simple enough. “Front”, from the same source: “In meteorology, generally, the interface or transition zone between two air masses of different density. Since the temperature distribution is the most important regulator of atmospheric density, a front almost invariably separates air masses of different temperature”.
“two masses of different density”, you look it up and it show that: it is the result of, or results in, differences in temperature.

         Let me break that down further. “Tail end of a cold front” based on that explanation, is the in-between area of a mass of cold air and a mass of warm air. The edge.

         In other words, the “tail end of a cold front” is… the edge of a mass of cold winds. Maaari mo itong isalin sa: ang dulo ng napakalamig na hangin, or: ang kaduluduluhan ng naipong malamig na hangin.

        Hwag naman — “ang buntot ng malamig na harap”, hindi mo pwedeng gamitin ang salitang “buntot” at idugtong ito sa salitang “harap” kasi yung literal na buntot — wala hong buntot o tail na nasa harap.

         Yun lang po. Bow. (hafta go, i’m late, no time for rewrite or edit)