The Linguist

@CIOL_Linguists AUTUMN 2024 The Linguist 13 FEATURES couldn't use her laptop, and used her phone sparingly to avoid draining the battery. Within the first three days, she received an evacuation order from the IDF to leave her home in Beit Hanoun. "We had only five minutes to evacuate, not only the house but the entire neighbourhood," she tells me. Her family fled first to Sheikh Radwan in Gaza City, but it was also under attack. "We moved from one place to another, but we found that danger was present everywhere we went." They eventually made it to Egypt in April. Managing trauma For those, like Najadat, who are working from a place of safety, this takes its toll. As we speak, we talk in euphemisms, avoiding certain words as if they are too painful to say. "I was afraid the person who was working on this piece had been… I don't want to say something bad, but I was just afraid for that person," she tells me. When we speak, Ghalayini believes most of the translators and writers she has worked with closely are still alive, but with some notable exceptions, like Dr Refaat Alareer, who she got to know during her last trip home. It's clearly painful to talk about. "I can't think," she says, distressed. "I can't remember… the list is just so long." Hearing someone mentally go through the list of the dead to make sure they haven't forgotten anyone is heartbreaking. Vicarious trauma is a real concern, and something RCT takes seriously. A trauma- informed session is mandatory for all their translators, though there is an understanding that those in Gaza may not be able to attend the full session. To support translators' mental health, Najadat is careful not to give them work that might be triggering. "I try to select the right documents for the person. When I sense that they might have trauma, I try to give them something more like legal documents," she explains. At the same time, the work can be helpful. "Emotionally, translation has been my passion from the very beginning. Today, when I receive assignments via email, I feel happy because I know that I have also found what I love and what I belong to, especially after I lost everything in Gaza," says Nofal. "The real opportunity in this work is that you will not have free time to think about what happened to you and your family in Gaza. Instead, you push this negative energy away." Najadat has heard similar sentiments from translators living in Gaza. "One emailed saying 'I'm not feeling good – can you send me more cases? When I busy myself with work I don't focus on hearing the bombing and that's what's happening around me.' I think it's like a coping mechanism," she says. For Abu Samra, the situation was complicated while she was still inside Gaza: "On one hand, my work kept me connected with the outside world and contributed to aid efforts for those in need. On the other hand, the threat of violence and the logistical difficulties added to the risk and stress. Balancing these aspects was demanding but necessary." Ghalayini, too, has found that assignments bring comfort to some of her colleagues in Gaza. "It's heavily dependent on the person – we've approached some writers to write diaries and for some it helps them. People want to be heard and it gives them purpose. And I think it gives them a sense of survival and humanity – they will do anything to show the world, look, we're human, we're here, this is us." And this is where the work of translators is so important, revealing the human stories behind the political discourse and devastation. "The real opportunity in this work is that you will not have free time to think about what happened to you" PHOTO BY EMAD EL BYED ON UNSPLASH

• Cover