Spanish–English parallel text
La rueda bajo el árbol de tamarindo
The Tyre Under the Tamarind Tree
DuoText
A free bilingual Spanish–English edition: the Spanish text with the English beside it, paragraph by paragraph. Read it online, or download it as a dual-language ebook.
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El señor Hai, el profesor de geografía de 2.º B, llegó el lunes a clase con una hoja de papel y sonrió como sonríen los profesores cuando traman algo terrible.
On Monday, Mr Hai, the geography teacher of class 8b, came into the room with a slip of paper and smiled the way teachers smile when they are planning something terrible.
«El viernes, cada uno de vosotros dará una charla», dijo. «Cinco minutos. El tema es: el trabajo de mi familia. ¿Qué hacéis vosotros? ¿Qué hacen vuestros padres? ¿Y qué tiene de especial? Podéis enseñar fotos».
“On Friday each of you will give a talk,” he said. “Five minutes. The topic is: my family’s work. What do you do, what do your parents do, and what is special about it? You may show pictures.”
Minh, que estaba sentado al lado de Linh, suspiró fuerte. «Mi familia trabaja en un puesto de sopa de fideos», dijo. «Yo solo trabajo allí cuando como». Toda la clase se rió y Minh se inclinó como si recibiera un premio.
Minh, who sat next to Linh, groaned loudly. “My family works in a noodle soup kitchen,” he said. “I only work there when I’m eating.” The whole class laughed, and Minh bowed as if he had won a prize.
Linh no se rió. Tenía un problema, y el problema tenía dos ruedas.
Linh did not laugh. She had a problem, and the problem had two wheels.
Su madre arreglaba ruedas. Su puesto estaba en la esquina junto al mercado, bajo un viejo árbol de tamarindo: un taburete de plástico, un cubo de agua, una bomba de mano y un cartel que ya colgaba allí cuando Linh era pequeña. Cada mañana, Linh tenía que pasar por esa esquina. Siempre iba por la otra acera. Su madre la saludaba con la mano cada mañana, y cada mañana Linh hacía como si no la viera.
Her mother repaired tyres. Her stall was on the corner by the market, under an old tamarind tree: a plastic stool, a bucket of water, a hand pump and a sign that had already been hanging there when Linh was little. Every morning Linh had to pass that corner. She always walked on the other side of the street. Her mother waved every morning, and every morning Linh pretended she had not seen it.
Después de las clases, Minh caminó a su lado y comió una galleta. Siempre tenía una galleta. «¿Y tú?», preguntó. «¿De qué vas a hablar el viernes?».
After class Minh walked beside her, eating a biscuit. He always had a biscuit. “And you?” he asked. “What will you talk about on Friday?”
«De mi tío», dijo Linh. «Trabaja en un hotel en Da Nang. Como director».
“About my uncle,” Linh said. “He works in a hotel in Da Nang. As the boss.”
«¿De verdad?», preguntó Minh. «Eso no lo sabía».
“Really?” Minh asked. “I didn’t know that.”
No era una mentira total. El tío Tuan trabajaba de verdad en ese hotel. Solo que allí era el portero de noche, y lo del director era nuevo.
That was not quite a lie. Uncle Tuan really did work in that hotel. But he was the night porter there, and the part about the boss was new.
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