Together, we watched a flick about a young boy growing up in Granada near the orphanage there where I once translated a study called “The Effect Of Trauma On Children.”
This morning, over coffee I had the following memory of a young boy I knew at the orphanage:
“Me duele el estómago,” José ran into the house one afternoon and called to his caretaker, Elena. (Through the window I had watched one of the older boys punch José in the stomach, hitting him in the spot over which he now clenched his fist.)
Me duele el estómago. (The stomach hurts me.) In Spanish, pain is inflicted on an individual by an organ which floats outside the body.
Perhaps this explains the dream I had last night in which one stomach hurt another. When I woke up, I tried to transcribe it: Me duele tu estomago. (Your stomach hurts me.) This translation, it seemed to me, was never quite right.