Hoje os
alunos Francisca Lopes, Francisco Cardita, Inês Lourenço João Roberto e Maria
José Portugal do 12º ano, equipados a rigor (T-Shirt, dicionários, canetas e
papel) estiveram a participar no concurso europeu de tradução. A prova decorreu
em todos os países europeu participantes à mesma hora (das 09:00 - 11:00 - hora
de Portugal). [Em baixo, ver texto que tiveram que traduzir]
Receberam um
texto em Inglês, cuja tradução para Português foi a sua tarefa.
Estiveram
empenhados a trabalhar durante duas horas e as suas traduções já foram
digitalizadas e enviadas para a DGT (Direção Geral de Tradução) da Comissão europeia. No início de fevereiro de 2019 a Direção Geral de Tradução colocará a lista dos
jovens vencedores no sítio Web do "Juvenes Translatores" e só podemos
esperar que os nomes dos nossos jovens constem da mesma.
Até lá só
podemos torcer por eles pois sabemos que fizeram o seu melhor. Parabéns por
terem participado.
A Professora
responsável,
Mª Judite
Carvalho
Three
culture vultures hit the tracks
Hi there Katy and
Anna,
Usually when my Dad
is banging on about the "good old days", I just pretend to be
listening. But he's had a tempting idea about how we could celebrate finishing
our A-levels when we leave school, before we all go our separate ways. He
suggested we take a leaf out of his book – it turns out that when he was
eighteen, he bought an Interrail pass with a couple of his friends and
travelled by train from place to place in Europe. This would have been in the
1980s, when half of Europe was behind the Iron Curtain, shrouded in mystery for
teenagers from the West. To travel to quite a few countries you needed to apply
in advance for a visa, which meant jumping through several hoops. Their idea
was to glimpse some European culture, though I can't help but wonder how much
culture he did actually get to see.
It's funny what
sticks in your mind, my Dad said, vividly describing how they spent a night on
the floor of a train station in Nice. Apparently the youth hostel was full and
there was nowhere left for Dad and his friends to go. You need to keep in mind
that this was ages before we all became glued to our smartphones, and instead
they got all their travel info from a single paper guidebook, which pretty much
says it all. That must have been kind of insane, don't you think?
Then there was the
time when Dad and his mates were in Budapest, and they decided on a big splurge
of a meal with goulash, chocolate pancakes – the works (and probably a glass or
three of red wine too, knowing Dad). They tried to give the waiter a tip at the
end of the meal by leaving some money on the table when they left, but the
waiter chased after them to give them their tip back. I can't imagine that
happening anywhere now!
I asked him: "So
Dad, what about all those museums and galleries you were supposed to be visiting?"
He said that after
Nice they took a train to Padua in Italy. They walked in the heat of the
afternoon to a chapel that had a good write-up in their guidebook. Inside the
chapel it was cool and dark and on the walls, illuminated, were the most marvellous
frescoes painted by Giotto of the Last Judgement and other scenes, in the
brightest blue and orange and purple. There was something about the way the
painter handled perspective that drew you into the frescoes and made you feel,
Dad said, sort of "part of them". It turns out that all those years
ago Dad did find some culture after all!
So, girls, what do you say? Are you up for
going Interrailing this summer?
