"Oriental" by Jenny Yang Cropp is a poem based on a snippet of the author’s life as a Korean-American. It begins with a description of a seemingly mundane event at Walmart, but as you read further, it peels off layers of a bicultural identity and the pain that comes with it. Being biracial, the author expresses the challenges of fitting in both cultures yet feeling that she has yet to find her place or be accepted. Subtle comments like “you look white” first sound so harmless. Yet, these microaggressive words are hurtful and may trigger a sense of shame for being different.
With this piece, I wanted to capture Cropp’s world as best as possible for an Indonesian audience. I began by breaking down the poem into several short parts and gradually worked on each part. I translated one line at a time and did multiple readings after translating each line. In this case, I ignored the temptation of translating it in one sitting. Stepping away from the translation often allowed me to have a fresh look into the translation and conduct regular revisions. Whenever I came across words or ideas that were less translatable, I would mark them and use a placeholder to limit disturbance to the translating process. For example, I kept Walmart and DMV initially but later changed them to more generic words yet specific for the Indonesian audience. For Walmart, I chose a generic word for supermarkets since Walmart is not always known in the community. It may be easily understood in the Asian and Asian-American communities in the USA; however, for Indonesians living in other countries, a generic word helps them to easily picture the context of a register: how people queue in lines and complete transactions. I also chose to use a literal translation for DMV, which became “office to make SIM” (driver’s license in Indonesian). In Indonesia, driving licenses are typically issued at police stations, so the equivalent translation of DMV would misalign with the original meaning. In addition, I used a dictionary and thesaurus in the early process but took the reviewers' suggestions for the final version. The reviewers often suggested particular words that best describe the original ideas. For example, I translated the verb “to name someone” into a literal translation (i.e., menamai). However, the reviewers thought the Indonesian verb for “to call someone with a specific name” (i.e., menjuluki) is more precise.
One of the challenges I faced was keeping the delicate balance between communicating the author's original intentions with meanings while keeping in mind the targeted audience. One of the most critical decisions was to keep the original line breaks. I went back and forth with this particular decision and only finalized it towards the end of the process. I initially thought translating the piece without enjambment might be “easier” for the targeted audience. However, doing so might dismiss the author’s intention for dramatic effects and nuanced meanings in each line. This is one of the essences of the original poem, and it wouldn't do it justice if I excluded it. Other translators and reviewers also agreed that aligning to the original line breaks was wise, particularly as Indonesian has similar sentence structures that allow the enjambed parts to flow naturally.
In a way, translating this piece forced me to reflect on microaggressions. As a Southeast Asian living in the USA, I understand the hardship, although in a slightly different context. However, when these microaggressions appear out of the blue and right in your face, you often feel helpless and left speechless. When an American lady referred to me as “little Asian girl,” I just smiled at her proudly, as if it was a compliment that she recognized my race. I may have believed it was a compliment, but after reading this poem, it probably wasn’t a nice remark. Perhaps, I was oblivious. I hope that translating this piece for an Indonesian audience, especially those living in the USA, can raise awareness about such subtle acts of microaggression. I don’t believe this concept is widely understood in the community, and some don’t even notice. In a way, the piece can help people acknowledge that words can hurt and that a harmless comment can feel like a stab. Lastly, this particular translation process solidified my current approach to poetry translation, which will continue to evolve. Translation is an ongoing learning journey; it is ever-living. There is always back and forth, trial and error, yes and no. But, at the end of the day, you find yourself just a little bit better. I will close this note with a beautiful quote by Alberto Ríos, “That’s how I think of school, or any situation in which you are learning-how you have to know that you’re going backward only to go forward.”
About the Translator
Asri Nurul Qodri is from Indonesia and has been teaching English since 2004. She worked in Kyiv, Ukraine until 2015 and went to Ohio University to attain a Master's degree in Applied Linguistics, where she taught at the Ohio Program of Intensive English (OPIE). Asri has also worked in English-Indonesian translations and vice versa. A few major projects are an English play written by Ray Harding (Charles Sturt University), a series of Indonesian comic books called Baratayuda, and a novel entitled Siri by Asmayani Kusrini. In May 2023, she graduated from Arizona State University with a Ph.D. in Linguistics and Applied Linguistics. Her dissertation focused on the interplay between multilingualism, Autism Spectrum Disorders, and mobile technology. (updated 2023)
Translations
"Oriental" by Jenny Yang Cropp (Indonesian)
With grateful acknowledgment to Indonesian language reviewers: Ophelia Harsadi & Alda Augustine
"When You Are Old and I Am Gray” by Eric Schlich (Indonesian)
With grateful acknowledgment to Indonesian language reviewers: Iqbal Azhar & Dina Mardiana