In Germany, Canada, Spain and Italia the translating of Waiting for the Monsoon is started. Like with most translations, they ask questions about certain sentences, meanings, or places. I realize that writing a story is one thing, but when it is transposed into another language, every line has to be rethought, rebuild. I would love to be in the head of the translators, and look through their eyes to my story, which also becomes their story now.
Yesterday evening I met Mathilde my Spanish publisher, who visited the Manuscripta. While she made a photo of me, I made one of her.