Translation as "Linguistic Hospitality"

Abstract

A few years ago, a couple from Bulgaria spent a summer house-sitting for a family in my neighborhood. They brought with them a two-year-old Bulgarian sheep dog named Pieron. I met them on the street while walking my dog Jelly, a four-year-old pound dog. Their English was spotty at best, and my Bulgarian non-existent. I asked them how they were settling in and the couple smiled and nodded vigorously in agreement with whatever it was they thought I’d asked. I then asked what brought them to the States, but thinking maybe I had inquired about their dog and whether he was house trained, they pointed to Pieron and pantomimed some sort of squatting action. They asked me something gesturing toward the street and the houses on it, which I took to mean they wanted to know if the neighborhood was safe, and I said we hadn’t had many break ins (I mimed someone smashing a window) and they must have thought I said something about dog training and the need for tough love because the woman said, “No no, no no” and in a gentle tone said something to Pieron which made him lie down and roll over.