Penerjemah Online adalah sebuah situs lembaga penyedia jasa translate dokumen resmi perusahaan dan individu yang menawarka

 Penerjemah Online adalah sebuah situs lembaga penyedia jasa translate dokumen resmi perusahaan dan individu yang menawarkan solusi tepat bagi Anda pengguna jasa terjemahan selama 24 jam nonstop. Dengan berbekal sarana dan prasarana yang memadai dan didukung penuh oleh staf-staf penerjemah terampil yang kaya akan pengalaman menerjemahkan berbagai dokumen dari dan ke bahasa Jepang, Inggris, Belanda, Arab, Mandarin, Korea, Jerman dan Perancis, lembaga jasa Penerjemah Online sudah sejak tahun 2010 tetap berkomitmen hanya memberikan yang terbaik bagi pelanggan-pelanggan pengguna jasa kami, khususnya dalam penyediaan jasa translate bahasa Jepang, Inggris, Mandarin, Korea, Arab, Belanda, Jerman dan Perancis untuk semua dokumen resmi.

Sebagai sebuah situs jasa penerjemah terjemahan dokumen, tentunya kami selalu berupaya hingga ini untuk bisa menjembatani perbedaan bahasa yang masih menjadi kendala bagi klien-klien kami dalam kaitannya dengan komunikasi, alih teknologi dan sebagainya, dimana ditengah semakin derasnya arus globalisasi saat ini menuntut pelaku bisnis menjajakan produk dan jasanya kepada calon-calon konsumen dari luar negeri. Dari situlah Penerjemah Online hadir untuk tujuan membantu para pengguna jasa yang  saat ini didominasi oleh para pelaku bisnis di Indonesia, dalam menerjemahkan berbagai dokumen mereka.

Upaya demi upaya terus kami lakukan untuk terus meminimalkan kemungkinan adanya kekeliruan persepsi, kesalahan pengetikan dan sebagainya yang bisa merugikan pengguna jasa penerjemah di Penerjemah Online. Sebagai salah satu langkah awal kami dalam menciptakan hasil terjemahan yang terbaik adalah dengan mempekerjakan staf-staf penerjemah reguler dan penerjemah tersumpah yang berpengalaman. Sehingga dengan demikian diharapkan mampu secara terus menerus tercipta perasaan terpuaskan bagi semua pengguna jasa terjemahan yang menggunakan jasa translate kami.

CHAN Umar, laki-laki 43 tahun, asyik mencongkel-congkel selembar papan yang diletakkan di atas meja kerjanya dengan pahat. Sesek

CHAN Umar, laki-laki 43 tahun, asyik mencongkel-congkel selembar papan yang diletakkan di atas meja kerjanya dengan pahat. Sesekali tangan kanannya meraih tukul (penokok) kayu yang terletak di atas papan untuk memukul pahat, melubangi papan sesuai motif. Terkadang ia mengganti jenis pahat yang lebih selusin tergeletak di depannya. Perlahan namun pasti, selembar papan dari kayu surian yang sudah diketam itu berubah menjadi ukiran khas Minang di tangan Umar.n sehari-hari Chan Umar, pemilik bengkel “Ukiran Chan Umar” di Nagari Pandai Sikek, Kabupaten Tanah Datar. Pandai Sikek adalah daerah yang terkenal di Sumatra Barat sebagai sentra kerajinan tradisional songket dan ukiran khas Minangkabau. Meski daerah ini termasuk dalam wilayah Kabupaten Tanah Datar tetapi Pandai Sikek lebih dekat, hanya 20 km dari Kota Padangpanjang menuju Bukittinggi. Pilihan Hidup Di Pandai Sikek ada 6 bengkel ukiran tradisional dan Chan Umar dengan bengkelnya merupakan yang paling menonjol.Konon, menurut Chan Umar, Pandai Sikek sendiri memperoleh nama dari kepandaian Si Ikek mengukir interior dan eksterior rumah gadang. Si Ikek adalah seorang lelaki di daerah itu pada zaman dulu yang sangat mahir mengukir di atas kayu. Pandai Sikek sebagai sentra kerajinan ukir Minang yang banyak digunakan untuk ukiran Rumah Gadang (rumah adat Minangkabau) dan kerajinan songket yang sudah ada sejak zaman dulu hingga era Kolonial Belanda, sempat terhenti di zaman Penjajahan Jepang (1942-1945). Kondisi ini terus berlanjut sampai 1960-an. Agresi Belanda Kedua, dan kekacauan politik dalam negeri, dari tragedi PRRI (Pemerintahan Revolusioner Republik Indonesia) hingga pertentangan dengan Partai Komunisme Indonesia (PKI), membuat suasana mengukir dan bertenun di Pandai Sikek benar-benar terhenti.Bahkan sebagian besar untuk rumah gadang yang dibangun pemerintah, seperti museum dan renovasi rumah gadang bersejarah. Di antaranya rumah gadang Museum Adityawarman di Padang, rumah gadang Museum Kebun Binatang Bukittinggi, dan Istana Pagaruyung di Batusangkar. “Namun setelah itu hampir tidak ada lagi proyek pemerintah dan pesanan ukiran rumah gadang, kecuali pesanan rumah gadang di beberapa tempat seperti di Nagari Sulit Air, Solok yang dibuat beberapa orang perantau,” kata Umar. Beberapa perantau Minang yang kaya tetap ada yang merenovasi rumah adat lama mereka yang rusak dengan yang baru, atau membuat rumah di kampung bergaya rumah adat dan sanggup mengeluarkan uang Rp400 juta untuk ukirannya untuk interior dan eksteriornya,” ujarnya. Sama dengan Motif Songket Chan Umar menetapkan harga ukirannya Rp500 ribu hingga Rp1,5 juta per meter bujur sangkar. Mahal-murahnya ukiran tergantung besar, kecil, dan rumitnya motif yang dipesan. Kayu yang digunakan adalah surian, kualitasnya sedikit di bawah jati, yang banyak terdapat di hutan Sumatra Barat. Sedikitnya Chan Umar membutuh dalam satu hari 5 kubik surian. Meski di Sumatra Barat sentra kerajinan ukir tradisional Minangkabau tak hanya terdapat di Pandai Sikek, juga di Candung (Agam), Cupak (Solok), dan Lintau (Tanah Datar), namun Pandai Sikek jauh lebih berkembang, dan Chan Umar merupakan pengukir terkemuka. Keunggulan produk yang dihasilkan Umar adalah hasil dari kecermatannya menorehkan motif dan menentukan warna. Pengerjaan kedua seni kerajinan ini di bawah kolong rumah gadang pada masa lalu membuat motif saling mempengaruhi dan umumnya serupa. Diperkirakaan ada 200 motif tradisional untuk ukiran, namun yang sering dipakai hanya sekitar 20-an. Masing-masingnya memiliki filosofi sendiri. Misalnya motif ‘itiak pulang patang’ (itik pulang sore) memiliki filofosi masyarakat Minangkabau akan teringat dengan kampung halamannya dan selalu seiya-sekatu (bersatu). Chan Umar sangat optimistis kepandaian kerajinan ukir yang dimilikinya dan orang-orang di Pandai Sikek akan selalu menjadi andalan perekonomian di daerah itu. Meski di Pandai Sikek 70 persen mata pencarian penduduk adalah di sektor pertanian dan 30 persen di sektor kerajinan (tenun dan ukir), namun karajinan telah membuka banyak lapangan pekerjaan.“Biasanya seorang perajin hanya mampu bertahan selama 15 tahun, setelah berkeluarga dan kebutuhan ekonomi bertambah, ia mencari usaha lain, kebanyakan tak lagi mengukir,” katanya. Karena itu, selain Chan Umar, para pengukir umumnya berusia di bawah 40 tahun. Meski begitu, tangan-tangan terampil mereka tak pernah berhenti menorehkan motif khas minang di selembar kayu untuk sebuah ornamen seni yang enak dipandang mata dari generasi ke generasi.

Though Robin and Joan Rolfs owned two rare talking dolls manufactured by Thomas Edison’s phonograph company in 1890, they did not dare play the wax cylinder records tucked inside each one.

The Rolfses, longtime collectors of Edison phonographs, knew that if they turned the cranks on the dolls’ backs, the steel phonograph needle might damage or destroy the grooves of the hollow, ring-shaped cylinder. And so for years, the dolls sat side by side inside a display cabinet, bearers of a message from the dawn of sound recording that nobody could hear.

In 1890, Edison’s dolls were a flop; production lasted only six weeks. Children found them difficult to operate and more scary than cuddly. The recordings inside, which featured snippets of nursery rhymes, wore out quickly.

Yet sound historians say the cylinders were the first entertainment records ever made, and the young girls hired to recite the rhymes were the world’s first recording artists.

Year after year, the Rolfses asked experts if there might be a safe way to play the recordings. Then a government laboratory developed a method to play fragile records without touching them.

The technique relies on a microscope to create images of the grooves in exquisite detail. A computer approximates — with great accuracy — the sounds that would have been created by a needle moving through those grooves.

In 2014, the technology was made available for the first time outside the laboratory.

“The fear all along is that we don’t want to damage these records. We don’t want to put a stylus on them,” said Jerry Fabris, the curator of the Thomas Edison Historical Park in West Orange, N.J. “Now we have the technology to play them safely.”

Last month, the Historical Park posted online three never-before-heard Edison doll recordings, including the two from the Rolfses’ collection. “There are probably more out there, and we’re hoping people will now get them digitized,” Mr. Fabris said.

The technology, which is known as Irene (Image, Reconstruct, Erase Noise, Etc.), was developed by the particle physicist Carl Haber and the engineer Earl Cornell at Lawrence Berkeley. Irene extracts sound from cylinder and disk records. It can also reconstruct audio from recordings so badly damaged they were deemed unplayable.

“We are now hearing sounds from history that I did not expect to hear in my lifetime,” Mr. Fabris said.

The Rolfses said they were not sure what to expect in August when they carefully packed their two Edison doll cylinders, still attached to their motors, and drove from their home in Hortonville, Wis., to the National Document Conservation Center in Andover, Mass. The center had recently acquired Irene technology.

Cylinders carry sound in a spiral groove cut by a phonograph recording needle that vibrates up and down, creating a surface made of tiny hills and valleys. In the Irene set-up, a microscope perched above the shaft takes thousands of high-resolution images of small sections of the grooves.

Stitched together, the images provide a topographic map of the cylinder’s surface, charting changes in depth as small as one five-hundredth the thickness of a human hair. Pitch, volume and timbre are all encoded in the hills and valleys and the speed at which the record is played.

At the conservation center, the preservation specialist Mason Vander Lugt attached one of the cylinders to the end of a rotating shaft. Huddled around a computer screen, the Rolfses first saw the wiggly waveform generated by Irene. Then came the digital audio. The words were at first indistinct, but as Mr. Lugt filtered out more of the noise, the rhyme became clearer.

“That was the Eureka moment,” Mr. Rolfs said.

In 1890, a girl in Edison’s laboratory had recited:

There was a little girl,

And she had a little curl

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was very, very good.

But when she was bad, she was horrid.

Recently, the conservation center turned up another surprise.

In 2010, the Woody Guthrie Foundation received 18 oversize phonograph disks from an anonymous donor. No one knew if any of the dirt-stained recordings featured Guthrie, but Tiffany Colannino, then the foundation’s archivist, had stored them unplayed until she heard about Irene.

Last fall, the center extracted audio from one of the records, labeled “Jam Session 9” and emailed the digital file to Ms. Colannino.

“I was just sitting in my dining room, and the next thing I know, I’m hearing Woody,” she said. In between solo performances of “Ladies Auxiliary,” “Jesus Christ,” and “Dead or Alive,” Guthrie tells jokes, offers some back story, and makes the audience laugh. “It is quintessential Guthrie,” Ms. Colannino said.

The Rolfses’ dolls are back in the display cabinet in Wisconsin. But with audio stored on several computers, they now have a permanent voice.

Even as a high school student, Dave Goldberg was urging female classmates to speak up. As a young dot-com executive, he had one girlfriend after another, but fell hard for a driven friend named Sheryl Sandberg, pining after her for years. After they wed, Mr. Goldberg pushed her to negotiate hard for high compensation and arranged his schedule so that he could be home with their children when she was traveling for work.

Mr. Goldberg, who died unexpectedly on Friday, was a genial, 47-year-old Silicon Valley entrepreneur who built his latest company, SurveyMonkey, from a modest enterprise to one recently valued by investors at $2 billion. But he was also perhaps the signature male feminist of his era: the first major chief executive in memory to spur his wife to become as successful in business as he was, and an essential figure in “Lean In,” Ms. Sandberg’s blockbuster guide to female achievement.

Over the weekend, even strangers were shocked at his death, both because of his relatively young age and because they knew of him as the living, breathing, car-pooling center of a new philosophy of two-career marriage.

“They were very much the role models for what this next generation wants to grapple with,” said Debora L. Spar, the president of Barnard College. In a 2011 commencement speech there, Ms. Sandberg told the graduates that whom they married would be their most important career decision.

In the play “The Heidi Chronicles,” revived on Broadway this spring, a male character who is the founder of a media company says that “I don’t want to come home to an A-plus,” explaining that his ambitions require him to marry an unthreatening helpmeet. Mr. Goldberg grew up to hold the opposite view, starting with his upbringing in progressive Minneapolis circles where “there was woman power in every aspect of our lives,” Jeffrey Dachis, a childhood friend, said in an interview.

The Goldberg parents read “The Feminine Mystique” together — in fact, Mr. Goldberg’s father introduced it to his wife, according to Ms. Sandberg’s book. In 1976, Paula Goldberg helped found a nonprofit to aid children with disabilities. Her husband, Mel, a law professor who taught at night, made the family breakfast at home.

Later, when Dave Goldberg was in high school and his prom date, Jill Chessen, stayed silent in a politics class, he chastised her afterward. He said, “You need to speak up,” Ms. Chessen recalled in an interview. “They need to hear your voice.”

Years later, when Karin Gilford, an early employee at Launch Media, Mr. Goldberg’s digital music company, became a mother, he knew exactly what to do. He kept giving her challenging assignments, she recalled, but also let her work from home one day a week. After Yahoo acquired Launch, Mr. Goldberg became known for distributing roses to all the women in the office on Valentine’s Day.

Ms. Sandberg, who often describes herself as bossy-in-a-good-way, enchanted him when they became friendly in the mid-1990s. He “was smitten with her,” Ms. Chessen remembered. Ms. Sandberg was dating someone else, but Mr. Goldberg still hung around, even helping her and her then-boyfriend move, recalled Bob Roback, a friend and co-founder of Launch. When they finally married in 2004, friends remember thinking how similar the two were, and that the qualities that might have made Ms. Sandberg intimidating to some men drew Mr. Goldberg to her even more.

Over the next decade, Mr. Goldberg and Ms. Sandberg pioneered new ways of capturing information online, had a son and then a daughter, became immensely wealthy, and hashed out their who-does-what-in-this-marriage issues. Mr. Goldberg’s commute from the Bay Area to Los Angeles became a strain, so he relocated, later joking that he “lost the coin flip” of where they would live. He paid the bills, she planned the birthday parties, and both often left their offices at 5:30 so they could eat dinner with their children before resuming work afterward.

Friends in Silicon Valley say they were careful to conduct their careers separately, politely refusing when outsiders would ask one about the other’s work: Ms. Sandberg’s role building Facebook into an information and advertising powerhouse, and Mr. Goldberg at SurveyMonkey, which made polling faster and cheaper. But privately, their work was intertwined. He often began statements to his team with the phrase “Well, Sheryl said” sharing her business advice. He counseled her, too, starting with her salary negotiations with Mark Zuckerberg.

“I wanted Mark to really feel he stretched to get Sheryl, because she was worth it,” Mr. Goldberg explained in a 2013 “60 Minutes” interview, his Minnesota accent and his smile intact as he offered a rare peek of the intersection of marriage and money at the top of corporate life.

While his wife grew increasingly outspoken about women’s advancement, Mr. Goldberg quietly advised the men in the office on family and partnership matters, an associate said. Six out of 16 members of SurveyMonkey’s management team are female, an almost unheard-of ratio among Silicon Valley “unicorns,” or companies valued at over $1 billion.

When Mellody Hobson, a friend and finance executive, wrote a chapter of “Lean In” about women of color for the college edition of the book, Mr. Goldberg gave her feedback on the draft, a clue to his deep involvement. He joked with Ms. Hobson that she was too long-winded, like Ms. Sandberg, but aside from that, he said he loved the chapter, she said in an interview.

By then, Mr. Goldberg was a figure of fascination who inspired a “where can I get one of those?” reaction among many of the women who had read the best seller “Lean In.” Some lamented that Ms. Sandberg’s advice hinged too much on marrying a Dave Goldberg, who was humble enough to plan around his wife, attentive enough to worry about which shoes his young daughter would wear, and rich enough to help pay for the help that made the family’s balancing act manageable.

Now that he is gone, and Ms. Sandberg goes from being half of a celebrated partnership to perhaps the business world’s most prominent single mother, the pages of “Lean In” carry a new sting of loss.

“We are never at 50-50 at any given moment — perfect equality is hard to define or sustain — but we allow the pendulum to swing back and forth between us,” she wrote in 2013, adding that they were looking forward to raising teenagers together.

“Fortunately, I have Dave to figure it out with me,” she wrote.