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French-Russian interpretation...
May. 13th, 2004 11:22 pmOn his deathbed, Lionel Barrymore is reputed to have said "dying is easy, comedy is hard." He should have tried interpreting. Last year's AMC-9 campaign hardly strained my French capabilities; this campaign (to launch Intelsat-10) has to date given my French a pretty good workout. I'm pretty much holding my own when it comes to general remarks. Today, however, while supporting a conversation between Russian and French computer types, I was painfully aware of my lack of depth in French telecommunications terminology, and was saved only by the fact that I understand enough of the technology to describe it in itty-bitty words.
But I get ahead of myself.
Last Sunday was Victory Day here in Russia, commemorating the 59th anniversary of the end of World War II, or as it's known here, the Great Patriotic War.
Coincidentally, May is a nice time for the celebration. On Saturday, as Alla and I passed through a part of downtown Moscow called Kitai-gorod (literally, "Chinatown," for historical reasons rather than an Asian population), my eye caught some pretty flowers.
We did quite a bit of walking that day, including a pass by the building of the Bolshoi Theater, which was decked out suitably.
Throughout the country, those veterans who can still get around don their go-to-meeting clothes and the medals they won during the fight against Fascism, and go out in public, often carrying flowers. Victory Day in Russia is a practical example of the words Shakespeare put in Henry V's mouth, with appropriate changes made in time and place:
It's a very emotional time for many, including young people who - despite the cynicism one generally associates with youth - have grown up in a culture that celebrates the sacrifice of their grandfathers (and grandmothers), to the extent that the city of Moscow is dotted with billboards featuring faces of teens and octagenarians above the slogan "Спасибо деду за победу!" ("Thanks to grandpa for victory!" which sounds lame in English, certainly, but then that's a "straight" translation that doesn't rhyme the way the original does.)
* * * Getting back to the space business here in Baikonur, we returned to Yubileiny airport last night to unload the satellite from the Airbus "Beluga." It was dark by the time the platform (aka, "the ramp," even though it does not incline) was in position to roll out the container with the bird. I managed to snap the following shot. (The dot in the sky is Saturn, I think.)
Once the container was slung to the satisfaction of the crew in charge of moving the cargo from the Beluga onto the waiting railcar, the rail-mounted crane hoisted the 20 metric ton container and eased it over just about as smoothly as you could imagine.
I think it took longer to sling and unsling the container than it did to actually move it. In any event, we got back to the hotel around 1 am. Fortunately, today's assignment didn't kick in until 1 pm; unfortunately, it didn't end until 7 pm and it actually ended closer to 8 pm owing to the telecom conversation I mentioned at the start of this post.
Tomorrow's work starts at 8 am. It's late, and I'm in the middle of a mild (probably viral) throat irritation (one of the advantages of having a doctor and nurse supporting the campaign). I really need to get to sleep.
Cheers...
But I get ahead of myself.
Last Sunday was Victory Day here in Russia, commemorating the 59th anniversary of the end of World War II, or as it's known here, the Great Patriotic War.
Coincidentally, May is a nice time for the celebration. On Saturday, as Alla and I passed through a part of downtown Moscow called Kitai-gorod (literally, "Chinatown," for historical reasons rather than an Asian population), my eye caught some pretty flowers.
We did quite a bit of walking that day, including a pass by the building of the Bolshoi Theater, which was decked out suitably.
Throughout the country, those veterans who can still get around don their go-to-meeting clothes and the medals they won during the fight against Fascism, and go out in public, often carrying flowers. Victory Day in Russia is a practical example of the words Shakespeare put in Henry V's mouth, with appropriate changes made in time and place:
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by from this day until the ending of the world but we in it shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today who sheds his blood with me shall be my brother. Be he ne'er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition, and gentlemen in England now abed shall think themselves acursed they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whilst any speaks, that fought with us upon St. Crispin's day!The news that night carried a couple of items about several cases of exhaustion on the part of veterans who'd tried a little too hard to march tall nearly two generations after the fact. I caught this gentleman - who appeared to be in fine fettle - in the square outside the Bolshoi. The lady he is with is carrying the flowers.
It's a very emotional time for many, including young people who - despite the cynicism one generally associates with youth - have grown up in a culture that celebrates the sacrifice of their grandfathers (and grandmothers), to the extent that the city of Moscow is dotted with billboards featuring faces of teens and octagenarians above the slogan "Спасибо деду за победу!" ("Thanks to grandpa for victory!" which sounds lame in English, certainly, but then that's a "straight" translation that doesn't rhyme the way the original does.)
Once the container was slung to the satisfaction of the crew in charge of moving the cargo from the Beluga onto the waiting railcar, the rail-mounted crane hoisted the 20 metric ton container and eased it over just about as smoothly as you could imagine.
I think it took longer to sling and unsling the container than it did to actually move it. In any event, we got back to the hotel around 1 am. Fortunately, today's assignment didn't kick in until 1 pm; unfortunately, it didn't end until 7 pm and it actually ended closer to 8 pm owing to the telecom conversation I mentioned at the start of this post.
Tomorrow's work starts at 8 am. It's late, and I'm in the middle of a mild (probably viral) throat irritation (one of the advantages of having a doctor and nurse supporting the campaign). I really need to get to sleep.
Cheers...
