【简介】感谢网友“雕龙文库”参与投稿，这里小编给大家分享一些，方便大家学习。
“Where’s your office, amai (mother)?” the phone card vendor asks as I stride toward a shopping mall in eastern Zimbabwe, my laptop slung over my shoulder.[1]
I stop to think for a second. Office? I don’t have one.
The last time I worked in a real office was nearly 10 years ago at the headquarters of a news agency in Paris. Computers were sprinkled over desks like ungainly confetti, colleagues ordered “recasts” and “wraps” as coolly as if they were milkshakes, and the graceful Place de la Bourse was several floors below.[2]
Before that, my office was the dark newsroom of the International Herald Tribune in Neuilly-sur-Seine, where, fresh out of university, I distributed photocopies of that day’s paper layout and dreamed of a swashbuckling future.[3]
When in 2000 I met the man I’d marry just six months later, my life—and my subsequent offices—changed beyond recognition.
As freelancers in Southern Africa, we learned to set up makeshift workrooms, my beau and I, in many places.[4] Like that dingy cafe on the Mozambican border.[5] It had lurid flowery lampshades and greasy toast but—joy of joys!—a large flat-screen TV showing CNN.[6]
Or the living room of a flat we rented once. It had posters of dolphins on the walls, which were cardboard-thin: When I washed our linen in the bathtub, I could hear the answering slap-slap of my neighbor doing her own laundry a few inches from my nose.[7] We hung duvets round the stairwell to create a soundproof booth for my husband’s radio recordings.[8]
Living with a fellow writer has its advantages: As deadline approaches, you can fact-check[9] in his (much more detailed) diary. He’s also more likely to understand when you say: “Sorry, I didn’t make dinner tonight: There was an election.”
Often my husband worked in the car, notebook balanced on the dashboard[10]. Once, in a particularly tense situation in a Southern African country, we approached a police roadblock. This was at a time when writers were viewed with distrust. With horror, I realized a scribbled radio script was in full view.[11]
I ate it. It was a small piece of paper, not much bigger than a shopping receipt. I can now truthfully say I have swallowed the news whole.
Internet coverage is sporadic[12] here in Zimbabwe. These days, broadband is gaining ground in the capital, Harare, but it can cost hundreds of dollars to install.[13]
For some time, we relied on an antiquated[14] connection through a phone line. Mostly it worked, except when marauding vervet monkeys disconnected the wires.[15]
Fortunately, we had friends who put up with us appearing regularly with flash drives, dictaphones, and anguished cries of, “The Internet’s not working!”[16]
We signed up excitedly when wireless communication was finally introduced, but there was one problem: The only place with a strong cellphone signal in the tin-roofed[17] cottage we lived in was the bathroom.
It’s not easy to balance a laptop on the side of a strawberry-pink bathtub. Trust me though: It can be done.
This morning, I’m mulling plot points for a work of fiction.[18] I need a place I can call my office for an hour or two.
“I’ll be in the restaurant opposite the gift shop,” I tell the phone card vendor. She’s seen me buy the government-controlled newspaper so often that she’s given me a nickname: Mai Herald (Mrs. Herald). Just like a real office colleague might. “You coming, too?”
Vocabulary
1. vendor: 售卖者;stride: 大步行走;Zimbabwe: 津巴布韦，非洲南部一国家;laptop: 笔记本电脑;sling: 吊，悬挂。
2. 电脑如难看的五彩纸屑般散布在桌子上，同事们要求“换演员”和“停机”时冷漠得仿佛它们是泡沫牛奶，而美丽的交易所广场就在几层楼之下。recast: 改变(剧中角色的)演员选派;wrap: 拍摄完成，停机。
3. newsroom:(报社、电台等的)资讯编辑室;International Herald Tribune: 《国际先驱论坛报》，是美国《纽约时报》于1887年创建的一份英文国际性报纸，总部设在巴黎;Neuilly-sur-Seine: 巴黎一家知名酒店;photocopy: 影印本;layout: 版面的设计;swashbuckling: 神气活现的。
4. freelancer: 自由作家;makeshift: 权宜的，临时代用的;beau: 〈主美〉男友。
5. dingy: 昏暗肮脏的;Mozambican: (非洲国家)莫桑比克的。
6. lurid: 惨白的;lampshade: 灯罩;greasy: 油腻的。
7. linen: 亚麻制品;bathtub: 浴缸;slap-slap: 拍击声。
8. duvet: 羽绒被;stairwell: 楼梯间;soundproof: 隔音的;booth: 小间。
9. fact-check: 实地调查。
10. dashboard: 汽车等的仪表板。
11. scribbled: 潦草写就的;script: 手稿。
12. sporadic: 零星的，少见的。
13. broadband: 宽带;gain ground: 发展，普及;Harare: 哈拉雷，津巴布韦首都。
14. antiquated: 陈旧的。
15. maraude: 劫掠，袭击;vervet monkey: 黑长尾猴，一种体小、尾长的非洲猴。
16. flash drive: 闪存驱动器;dictaphone: 录音电话机;anguished: 苦恼的。
17. tin-roofed: 铁皮屋顶的。
18. mull: 思索，思考;plot: 情节。
“Where’s your office, amai (mother)?” the phone card vendor asks as I stride toward a shopping mall in eastern Zimbabwe, my laptop slung over my shoulder.[1]
I stop to think for a second. Office? I don’t have one.
The last time I worked in a real office was nearly 10 years ago at the headquarters of a news agency in Paris. Computers were sprinkled over desks like ungainly confetti, colleagues ordered “recasts” and “wraps” as coolly as if they were milkshakes, and the graceful Place de la Bourse was several floors below.[2]
Before that, my office was the dark newsroom of the International Herald Tribune in Neuilly-sur-Seine, where, fresh out of university, I distributed photocopies of that day’s paper layout and dreamed of a swashbuckling future.[3]
When in 2000 I met the man I’d marry just six months later, my life—and my subsequent offices—changed beyond recognition.
As freelancers in Southern Africa, we learned to set up makeshift workrooms, my beau and I, in many places.[4] Like that dingy cafe on the Mozambican border.[5] It had lurid flowery lampshades and greasy toast but—joy of joys!—a large flat-screen TV showing CNN.[6]
Or the living room of a flat we rented once. It had posters of dolphins on the walls, which were cardboard-thin: When I washed our linen in the bathtub, I could hear the answering slap-slap of my neighbor doing her own laundry a few inches from my nose.[7] We hung duvets round the stairwell to create a soundproof booth for my husband’s radio recordings.[8]
Living with a fellow writer has its advantages: As deadline approaches, you can fact-check[9] in his (much more detailed) diary. He’s also more likely to understand when you say: “Sorry, I didn’t make dinner tonight: There was an election.”
Often my husband worked in the car, notebook balanced on the dashboard[10]. Once, in a particularly tense situation in a Southern African country, we approached a police roadblock. This was at a time when writers were viewed with distrust. With horror, I realized a scribbled radio script was in full view.[11]
I ate it. It was a small piece of paper, not much bigger than a shopping receipt. I can now truthfully say I have swallowed the news whole.
Internet coverage is sporadic[12] here in Zimbabwe. These days, broadband is gaining ground in the capital, Harare, but it can cost hundreds of dollars to install.[13]
For some time, we relied on an antiquated[14] connection through a phone line. Mostly it worked, except when marauding vervet monkeys disconnected the wires.[15]
Fortunately, we had friends who put up with us appearing regularly with flash drives, dictaphones, and anguished cries of, “The Internet’s not working!”[16]
We signed up excitedly when wireless communication was finally introduced, but there was one problem: The only place with a strong cellphone signal in the tin-roofed[17] cottage we lived in was the bathroom.
It’s not easy to balance a laptop on the side of a strawberry-pink bathtub. Trust me though: It can be done.
This morning, I’m mulling plot points for a work of fiction.[18] I need a place I can call my office for an hour or two.
“I’ll be in the restaurant opposite the gift shop,” I tell the phone card vendor. She’s seen me buy the government-controlled newspaper so often that she’s given me a nickname: Mai Herald (Mrs. Herald). Just like a real office colleague might. “You coming, too?”
Vocabulary
1. vendor: 售卖者;stride: 大步行走;Zimbabwe: 津巴布韦，非洲南部一国家;laptop: 笔记本电脑;sling: 吊，悬挂。
2. 电脑如难看的五彩纸屑般散布在桌子上，同事们要求“换演员”和“停机”时冷漠得仿佛它们是泡沫牛奶，而美丽的交易所广场就在几层楼之下。recast: 改变(剧中角色的)演员选派;wrap: 拍摄完成，停机。
3. newsroom:(报社、电台等的)资讯编辑室;International Herald Tribune: 《国际先驱论坛报》，是美国《纽约时报》于1887年创建的一份英文国际性报纸，总部设在巴黎;Neuilly-sur-Seine: 巴黎一家知名酒店;photocopy: 影印本;layout: 版面的设计;swashbuckling: 神气活现的。
4. freelancer: 自由作家;makeshift: 权宜的，临时代用的;beau: 〈主美〉男友。
5. dingy: 昏暗肮脏的;Mozambican: (非洲国家)莫桑比克的。
6. lurid: 惨白的;lampshade: 灯罩;greasy: 油腻的。
7. linen: 亚麻制品;bathtub: 浴缸;slap-slap: 拍击声。
8. duvet: 羽绒被;stairwell: 楼梯间;soundproof: 隔音的;booth: 小间。
9. fact-check: 实地调查。
10. dashboard: 汽车等的仪表板。
11. scribbled: 潦草写就的;script: 手稿。
12. sporadic: 零星的，少见的。
13. broadband: 宽带;gain ground: 发展，普及;Harare: 哈拉雷，津巴布韦首都。
14. antiquated: 陈旧的。
15. maraude: 劫掠，袭击;vervet monkey: 黑长尾猴，一种体小、尾长的非洲猴。
16. flash drive: 闪存驱动器;dictaphone: 录音电话机;anguished: 苦恼的。
17. tin-roofed: 铁皮屋顶的。
18. mull: 思索，思考;plot: 情节。
