It was a struggle, I felt massively incapable; I had never felt so out of my comfort zone as when speaking for other people in a language that is not my first. I had never previously done this. Ever.

I recently had the opportunity to use my second language--Spanish-- speaking abilities in a way I had had very little experience in before: interpreting. I was part of a team of eight people traveling to a Spanish only speaking country for the purpose of doing Christian missions there. My job was to interpret conversation and interactions. The job may sound minor, but I assure you, it was not.

Now, before continuing my talk about my experience interpreting, I need to clarify one thing: interpreting isn't translating. It would be an injustice to call what I did and so many other people around the world do what its not. Whereas translating means using almost word for word accuracy, interpreting means to explain something so someone else understands it in its context.

Both types of bridging the linguistic gap have their place. Being in a Spanish speaking country where people love their soccer, calling someones beloved team, "a bunch of little girls" can be quite offensive if not understood to be sarcasm. This is where translating word for word is useless. So, when I was requested to interpret this comment, I added for the benefit of the speaker, that this was a joke, thus circumventing any offense.

And that was my job, to bridge not only the language gap, but also the cultural ones--to help people connect.

So, from a person with only advanced Spanish speaking skills who was used in a capacity to interpret, here are four noteworthy components of interpreting I learned from my ten day experience.

1. Interpreting is, well, humbling.

Nothing brings your linguistic pride down quicker than realizing after or even during interpreter for someone that you misspoke in your second language. One such instance was when I was interpreting for an American when he was talking with another man about the man's rebellious child. In interpreting for the American, I said "not obey" for the English word "disobey." later a Spanish speaking friend who overheard this conversation told me the correct way of wording that term--that there was in fact a Spanish word for "disobey." It wasn't "not obey." After learning I had made a mistake, I was embarrassed, disobey in Spanish even sounded like the English word! How could I not have realized this? But that's what interpreting does best: it brings down the darn ego.

2. You, as an interpreter, don't get a lot of personal time.

Interpreting means you're talking for everyone else, never yourself, and this can get a little lonely to be honest. You're the voice of two people conversing, and though this can be an introverts delight because it means being a fly on the wall to many conversations, it also means the conversing parties are focused on each other and only each other. I found myself at the end of every night wanting--needing--to talk to someone, even if it was about nonsense. But it was because I was so deprived of personal interaction, that I needed my own.

3. Talking for everyone else and feeling empty might mean you're being used as a tool.

But let's be honest, being an interpreter for two linguistically opposite parties means you are a tool--you're being used for your ability. But there's a difference between people seeing that you're a human with an ability and people only seeing you as that ability. Whether people know it or not, they do it, and it will happen. The please and thank you's will stop and acknowledgements that you are offering them a service will be forgotten. It's what the position can be like. But I learned to appreciate those that recognized the mental strain interpreting caused and personal sacrifices I was making. I'm not one to need gratification of a service, but when you put so much out there, the lack or bounty of the please and thank you's is something easily noticed.

4. But being used for your ability is a gift regardless of how people use it.

It's an honor to connect two worlds. You have to understand that without you, there would be a metaphoric chasm between these two people or parties, but you get to be the bridge that connects them--and it's beautiful. One of the most rewarding things to see when interpreting, is smiles. They are the signs that let you know that you're transferred happiness from one person to another and that you were a conduit to something that wouldn't exist without you.

Interpreting has its highs and lows. You might forget a word and humble yourself, you might lose personal time, and you might be used. But interpreting is a beautiful privilege. It means you've finally reached a level in your Spanish, Somali, English, or whatever other language you speak that instead of connecting yourself to your second language's world, you can now do that for others. And the fruits you get to see when that happens--the happiness, the smiles, the laughs, the blushes--even the tears, are all good things you know you played a hand in. It's a reward worth far more than money, instead the pay is in the intrinsic award, the type that truly matters.