評(píng)論
打印
A group of Haitians make a tricky connection with our bus 15 blocks away from the station. Their cross-town bus invariably arrives at the changeover point later than we do. But our Haitian friends have such a sense of fun -- even early on Sunday morning -- that we hate to leave the meeting point without them. When they are all aboard, we chuckle and nod. Who needs words -- or names -- when you can speak from the heart?
一群海地人要在離車站有15個(gè)街區(qū)遠(yuǎn)的地方轉(zhuǎn)乘我們的汽車。他們乘坐的穿越市區(qū)的公共汽車總是比我們晚到換乘地點(diǎn)，但我們的海地朋友們實(shí)在是太有意思了——甚至在周日清早也是如此——所以我們都不愿意不等他們就離開(kāi)集合地點(diǎn)。等他們?nèi)忌宪嚵?，我們都含笑點(diǎn)頭。當(dāng)你能發(fā)自內(nèi)心地交流時(shí)，難道誰(shuí)還會(huì)需要語(yǔ)言——或者姓名嗎？
For many months, our only sadness lay in our inability to establish the same rapport with the silent woman at the front of the bus. Then, one evening, we went to a fish restaurant located on our bus route. We were shown to a table alongside someone sitting alone, huddled in an overcoat that we recognized before we saw the owner's face. It was the woman from the bus.
好多個(gè)月的時(shí)間，我們唯一傷心的事是不能和坐在車前部的那個(gè)沉默的女人建立起同樣的融洽關(guān)系。后來(lái)，一天晚上，我們?nèi)チ艘患以诠嚶肪€上的魚(yú)餐廳。侍者領(lǐng)我們到了一張桌子旁，旁邊的桌子有一個(gè)人獨(dú)坐著，蜷在外套里。我們還沒(méi)看到外套主人的臉就認(rèn)出了那件外套。這正是公共汽車上的那個(gè)女人。
We greeted her with the friendly familiarity we had shown all year, but this time -- like ice floes unlocking in April -- her face softened into a gleam of recognition, then a shy smile. When she spoke, the words escaped awkwardly from lips stiffened by a speech impediment. All at once we realized why she hadn't spoken to us before. Talking was hard for her.
我們跟她打招呼，用我們一整年來(lái)表現(xiàn)出的那種友好和親切，但這一次——像冰原在四月間融化一般——她的臉色變得柔和，因?yàn)檎J(rèn)出我們而發(fā)出光彩，然后羞澀地微笑了一下。她開(kāi)口說(shuō)話時(shí)，話語(yǔ)從因?yàn)檠哉Z(yǔ)障礙而繃得緊緊的嘴唇里笨拙地流出來(lái)。突然之間，我們明白了她以前為什么不跟我們說(shuō)話：說(shuō)話對(duì)她而言是件難事。
Over dinner, we learned the story of a single mother with a disabled son who was receiving special care away from home. She missed him desperately, she explained.
在用餐的過(guò)程中，我們得知了一位單身母親和一個(gè)離家接受特別護(hù)理的殘疾兒子的故事。她想他，想得要命，她解釋說(shuō)。
I love him ... and he loves me, even though he doesn't express it very well, she murmured haltingly. "Lots of us have that problem, don't we? We don't say what we want to say, what we should be saying. And that's not good enough."
“我愛(ài)他……他也愛(ài)我，雖然他表達(dá)得不太好，”她結(jié)結(jié)巴巴地小聲說(shuō)?！拔覀兒芏嗳硕加羞@個(gè)問(wèn)題，不是嗎？我們不說(shuō)想說(shuō)的話、該說(shuō)的話。這樣可不夠好。”
On Sundays she rode the bus all morning -- same seat, same route, in and out -- simply for the companionship of the driver whose name she didn't know, but who appreciated the hot drinks she unfailingly provided.
星期天，她整個(gè)上午都坐在公共汽車上——同樣的座位，同樣的路線，反反復(fù)復(fù)——只為司機(jī)的陪伴，她甚至都不知道司機(jī)的姓名，但司機(jī)很感激她一如既往從不落空提供的熱乎乎的飲料。
The bus ride was the best thing she did all week, she said. An occasional visit to the fish restaurant was a close second. "And this time I'm sharing it with f-f-f-friends," she added.
坐這趟公交車是她整個(gè)星期里最美好的一件事，她說(shuō)。其次就是偶爾光顧一下魚(yú)餐廳?！岸@次，我是和朋——朋——朋友們一起分享?！彼恿艘痪洹?/div>
The candles flared on our tables, which were close enough to be one. Our fish had never tasted better. The night lengthened and grew cozy, and when we parted as friends -- we shared names.
燭光在我們桌上搖曳著，兩張桌子緊挨一起，簡(jiǎn)直就像一張。我們的魚(yú)吃起來(lái)從來(lái)沒(méi)有這么美味可口。這個(gè)夜晚持續(xù)了很久，變得很溫暖，我們告別時(shí)已成了朋友——這一次我們交換了姓名。
