That's right, there's my big announcement! I'm moving my blog to a whole new website:
AlexWillTravel.com
Instead of just a blog, it will be a complete website that's going to be much better!
It's still in the early phases, so you'll have to be patient, but it's going to be incredible.
Head there now to see it!
You'll want to change your bookmarks, because that's where I'm going to do all of my posting from now on. Tell your friends! Tell your dog! Yell the new address out the window! Get some spray-paint and write AlexWillTravel.com on the walls! If you do that one, you may want to watch out for the rendőrség.
I'll see you there!
Alex
AlexWillTravel.com
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Pictures of Lake Bled, Postojna, and Zagreb
Remember the trip I took during my fall break a few weeks ago? Click here if you don't. I still have pictures to share with you. Again I've posted them on another site, and I will give you the link here.
First, there's Lake Bled. It's the famous, picturesque lake in the Slovenian Alps where I spent Halloween. It was rainy, foggy, and incredible. The pictures don't really do it justice, but they sure try. Click here to see them:
Next, my pictures from Postojna. That's where I visited a big cave full of Koreans, saw the coolest castle ever that's built into a cave/cliff, and met an Indian who was obsessed with the internet. By the way, I still haven't received my eagerly awaited e-mail from him. Click this picture to see the rest:
Finally, some pictures from one of my new favorite cities, Zagreb, Croatia. I fell in love with this place, and I may very well meet my wife there. She will obviously be beautiful and dressed very stylishly, as all Croatian women seem to be. Until then, you can enjoy pictures of the city by clicking here:
Now, for my Hungarian word of the day. It may not be correct, however, because I learned it from the dictionary. I have a strange distrust of language dictionaries, because they always seem to give a similar, but incorrect, word that causes people to laugh.
Fénykép (pronounced like "faint" without the "T" and "cape"). It means "photo".
One more thing, tomorrow I will (hopefully) be making an exciting announcement about my blog! Be sure to visit so you can find out what it is.
First, there's Lake Bled. It's the famous, picturesque lake in the Slovenian Alps where I spent Halloween. It was rainy, foggy, and incredible. The pictures don't really do it justice, but they sure try. Click here to see them:
 |
| Click the picture to go to the album. |
Next, my pictures from Postojna. That's where I visited a big cave full of Koreans, saw the coolest castle ever that's built into a cave/cliff, and met an Indian who was obsessed with the internet. By the way, I still haven't received my eagerly awaited e-mail from him. Click this picture to see the rest:
 |
| Click this image to go to the Postojna pictures. |
Finally, some pictures from one of my new favorite cities, Zagreb, Croatia. I fell in love with this place, and I may very well meet my wife there. She will obviously be beautiful and dressed very stylishly, as all Croatian women seem to be. Until then, you can enjoy pictures of the city by clicking here:
 |
| Click this picture to see Zagreb. |
Now, for my Hungarian word of the day. It may not be correct, however, because I learned it from the dictionary. I have a strange distrust of language dictionaries, because they always seem to give a similar, but incorrect, word that causes people to laugh.
Fénykép (pronounced like "faint" without the "T" and "cape"). It means "photo".
One more thing, tomorrow I will (hopefully) be making an exciting announcement about my blog! Be sure to visit so you can find out what it is.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Is Smoke Supposed To Come Out Of The Wall?
I have a big electric kettle to heat up water. Maybe you would call it a pitcher. It's a big blue plastic thing that boils water in less than a minute. Needless to say, it gets a lot of use.
Today, I clicked it on and went in the other room for a second. When I came back in, I noticed a funny smell. I looked at the electrical outlet and saw smoke pouring out of it.
Hmm, that's not normal.
Quickly I unplugged it. Smoke was still coming out, but I couldn't see whatever it was that was burning. I guess I'll blow on it?
Today, I clicked it on and went in the other room for a second. When I came back in, I noticed a funny smell. I looked at the electrical outlet and saw smoke pouring out of it.
Hmm, that's not normal.
Quickly I unplugged it. Smoke was still coming out, but I couldn't see whatever it was that was burning. I guess I'll blow on it?
Oh well, I was in the middle of making lunch so I just pretended it didn't happen. It went away. I'll ask someone about it on Monday, but until then, I'll just enjoy the adventure.
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| I never did find out why they were here. |
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| View from my balcony. |
I can always call the tűzoltóság (fire department). Pretty cool how I snuck in the word of the day like that. They were parked outside yesterday, they must be psychic too.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Wow, The Word Of The Day Picked Itself
As you know, I try to have a Hungarian Word of the Day. Usually, I connect it to some topic I'm discussing, or I tell something interesting that I learned that day.
Today, the decision was made as soon as I saw the word.
Let me set the scene. It's about 8:15 in the morning, and I'm teaching one of my 9th grade classes. They're the most advanced of their grade level, but they're still relative beginners.
I had finished what I had to teach, and I was now on the second part of my lesson. My classes usually begin with the boring stuff, and about halfway through I change to something else. Typically I have a plan of what to teach, but I often change it depending on how it's going. If they're behaving and participating, I can play a game instead of some textbook activity. If they're misbehaving, I practice my medieval torture methods.
Just kidding - I wanted to see if you're paying attention.
Returning to the story, this particular group usually behaves quite well. When I came to the point where I could make a decision, one student raised her hand and asked what Hungarian words I know. They have been fascinated by this since day one, so we started talking about it.
I put them in groups and told them to think of useful phrases or words to teach me. It started out with a few common words like juice and sunglasses, but then one girl asked if she could come write a word on the board.
You must know that this particular student has a very stern look about her. She's not mad or unhappy, but her face naturally has an intense, almost angry, look on it. When she's a mother, I think she'll have very well behaved children.
That's important to know because she came up to the board and started writing. I think most others would have started laughing. She was focused.
Then she kept writing.
And she wrote some more.
The pen dried up and she needed a new one - just kidding, but it's possible.
Finally she finished. It was one word.
"We don't know how to say this word in English, but it's the longest Hungarian word."
If you speak Hungarian, I bet your laughing. If you don't, I bet your not ready for this. This is what she wrote:
Megszentségteleníthetetlenségeskedéseitekért
She quickly read it out loud so I could repeat. I stared at her and the class laughed. Then she drew lines at certain intervals and taught it to me in parts. I'm proud to say I managed to pronounce it, at least in a rough manner.
So there you have it. That's what I learned in school today. If you're wondering what it means, just ask around. After all, it's not like it's difficult to pronounce.
Today, the decision was made as soon as I saw the word.
Let me set the scene. It's about 8:15 in the morning, and I'm teaching one of my 9th grade classes. They're the most advanced of their grade level, but they're still relative beginners.
I had finished what I had to teach, and I was now on the second part of my lesson. My classes usually begin with the boring stuff, and about halfway through I change to something else. Typically I have a plan of what to teach, but I often change it depending on how it's going. If they're behaving and participating, I can play a game instead of some textbook activity. If they're misbehaving, I practice my medieval torture methods.
Just kidding - I wanted to see if you're paying attention.
Returning to the story, this particular group usually behaves quite well. When I came to the point where I could make a decision, one student raised her hand and asked what Hungarian words I know. They have been fascinated by this since day one, so we started talking about it.
I put them in groups and told them to think of useful phrases or words to teach me. It started out with a few common words like juice and sunglasses, but then one girl asked if she could come write a word on the board.
You must know that this particular student has a very stern look about her. She's not mad or unhappy, but her face naturally has an intense, almost angry, look on it. When she's a mother, I think she'll have very well behaved children.
That's important to know because she came up to the board and started writing. I think most others would have started laughing. She was focused.
Then she kept writing.
And she wrote some more.
The pen dried up and she needed a new one - just kidding, but it's possible.
Finally she finished. It was one word.
"We don't know how to say this word in English, but it's the longest Hungarian word."
If you speak Hungarian, I bet your laughing. If you don't, I bet your not ready for this. This is what she wrote:
Megszentségteleníthetetlenségeskedéseitekért
She quickly read it out loud so I could repeat. I stared at her and the class laughed. Then she drew lines at certain intervals and taught it to me in parts. I'm proud to say I managed to pronounce it, at least in a rough manner.
So there you have it. That's what I learned in school today. If you're wondering what it means, just ask around. After all, it's not like it's difficult to pronounce.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Caught Off Guard
RING RING RING RING RING
"Is that my doorbell? No one ever comes to my apartment, so it's not really a sound I'm familiar with. I'll go look through the peek hole and see who it is. Oh that's right, the glass is so dirty that I can't see a thing.
"Well, there's a man standing there. Or a woman. But it's definitely a person. Unless it's an alien. Or a drunken angel statue. You never can be sure.
"I guess I'll open it. It's probably someone I know. If it isn't, I doubt it will take long for them to realize I don't speak Hungarian and they'll go away. Maybe it's a Hungarian girl scout selling Hungarian girl scout cookies. If that's they case, I'll buy a ton.
"I hope the whole transaction doesn't take long - I have dinner on the stove. It's not too important if I burn it, though, because I usually burn it anyway."
These are the thoughts that went through my head while I was cooking dinner tonight. When I opened the door, I didn't find a woman, an alien, or even a drunken angel statue. Instead, it was my neighbor. You remember him, he's the one I was at the sausage festival with (read about that here).
He's a nice guy, but his English isn't great (even though it's 20 million times better than my Hungarian). I've had a few short conversations with him in passing, but we only hung out at that one festival. On the other hand, he is my neighbor, so I wasn't that surprised to see him at my door.
"Do you like cookies?" he asked.
"Yes, I love cookies."
"Great! I made some cookies and I brought some for you," he replied as he handed me a Christmas tin, "Enjoy your dinner!"
And off he went.
Therefore, it was a pretty welcome feeling to have someone come knock on my door with a gift. It's just more proof to my theory about living in a foreign land: If you're lonely, homesick, don't fit in, don't have friends, etc., then you need to do one thing - be patient. With enough time, patience, and smiles, you will feel welcome.
So answer the door, if it isn't a drunken angel statue, it may be your friend with cookies.
Hungarian word of the day (seems important, under the circumstances): Köszönöm (you're on your own with this pronunciation, I know how to say it, but I don't know how to explain it). It means Thank You, and you could find yourself saying it a lot.
"Is that my doorbell? No one ever comes to my apartment, so it's not really a sound I'm familiar with. I'll go look through the peek hole and see who it is. Oh that's right, the glass is so dirty that I can't see a thing.
"Well, there's a man standing there. Or a woman. But it's definitely a person. Unless it's an alien. Or a drunken angel statue. You never can be sure.
"I guess I'll open it. It's probably someone I know. If it isn't, I doubt it will take long for them to realize I don't speak Hungarian and they'll go away. Maybe it's a Hungarian girl scout selling Hungarian girl scout cookies. If that's they case, I'll buy a ton.
"I hope the whole transaction doesn't take long - I have dinner on the stove. It's not too important if I burn it, though, because I usually burn it anyway."
These are the thoughts that went through my head while I was cooking dinner tonight. When I opened the door, I didn't find a woman, an alien, or even a drunken angel statue. Instead, it was my neighbor. You remember him, he's the one I was at the sausage festival with (read about that here).
He's a nice guy, but his English isn't great (even though it's 20 million times better than my Hungarian). I've had a few short conversations with him in passing, but we only hung out at that one festival. On the other hand, he is my neighbor, so I wasn't that surprised to see him at my door.
"Do you like cookies?" he asked.
"Yes, I love cookies."
"Great! I made some cookies and I brought some for you," he replied as he handed me a Christmas tin, "Enjoy your dinner!"
And off he went.
Either he's psychic or he could smell my food from the kitchen. The second is more likely, but I don't have any proof against his psychic abilities. I'll try to ask him, but I better bring my English-Hungarian dictionary because mind reading isn't something usually taught in language classes.
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| The Cookie Tin |
It may come as a surprise, but living in a foreign country can be lonely. The odds of this increase when you live in a small town where the vast majority of people don't speak your language. Until you learn their language, conversations tend to be at a minimum. Friendships only go so far when they're based off of three word interactions.
So answer the door, if it isn't a drunken angel statue, it may be your friend with cookies.
Hungarian word of the day (seems important, under the circumstances): Köszönöm (you're on your own with this pronunciation, I know how to say it, but I don't know how to explain it). It means Thank You, and you could find yourself saying it a lot.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Ljubljana Pictures
Slowly but surely. That's how I'm going to add pictures. Let's start with the first day of my fall break trip.
This was Halloween in Ljubljana, Slovenia. It was rainy and cold, but that didn't stop us from sightseeing. We saw a castle, an underground bar full of skeletons, drank hot wine, crossed some bridges, and saw the awesome neighborhood that housed the prison we'd stay at a few days later.
The pictures reminded me of something I need to bring up, though. There seems to be a tradition around here of using a padlock to symbolize love. A couple writes their name on it, locks it to something significant, and throws away the key. It sounds very romantic because it shows how confident they are that their love will last forever.
My issue is with those who choose combination locks. No key? How does that show anything? "I love you so much that we should put a lock on here so that everyone knows!"
Uncomfortably, he answers, "Um, okay, but can we use a combination lock?"
"What are you trying to say?" she replies, with a frown on her face.
Click this picture to go to my photo album:
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go buy a combination lock. I'll need to make sure I memorize the numbers, you know, just in case.
This was Halloween in Ljubljana, Slovenia. It was rainy and cold, but that didn't stop us from sightseeing. We saw a castle, an underground bar full of skeletons, drank hot wine, crossed some bridges, and saw the awesome neighborhood that housed the prison we'd stay at a few days later.
The pictures reminded me of something I need to bring up, though. There seems to be a tradition around here of using a padlock to symbolize love. A couple writes their name on it, locks it to something significant, and throws away the key. It sounds very romantic because it shows how confident they are that their love will last forever.
My issue is with those who choose combination locks. No key? How does that show anything? "I love you so much that we should put a lock on here so that everyone knows!"
Uncomfortably, he answers, "Um, okay, but can we use a combination lock?"
"What are you trying to say?" she replies, with a frown on her face.
Click this picture to go to my photo album:
 |
| Ljubljana |
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go buy a combination lock. I'll need to make sure I memorize the numbers, you know, just in case.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
So That's What That Is
There's a lady here in Békéscsaba who I give private English lessons to. She's also a tour guide, and today she needed practice for a tour that she's going to give in English. It was perfect for both of us.
Do you ever walk by something everyday and not know what it is?
I do.
If you say you don't, perhaps you should go on tour of your own town.
My favorie part went a little like this:
Tour Guide: "Do you know what the statue is on top of the fountain?"
Me: "Um, it looks like a little girl walking."
Tour Guide: "No, it is an angel. But she is...what do you call it when you have drank too much alcohol."
Me: "Drunk."
Tour Guide: "Yes, drunk! We call it the Drunken Angel fountain."
Me: "Hmm, I've never heard an angel described that way. I think that's my new favorite fountain."
There were, however, plenty of other things that didn't have to do with intoxicated deities. Maybe I can take some pictures of things and show you around Békéscsaba. I'll only do that if you agree to come visit! The Drunken Angel fountain is best viewed in person. Just don't expect water. She must have consumed it all.
Suddenly, the demand for my English language skills has sky rocketed. I've been asked to correct a translated version of a speech by the school director and proofread a paper written by the daughter of one of my colleagues. This is the part where I begin to wonder if I could sneak in ironic little phrases without anyone noticing...
Plus, my English language knowledge has given me some exciting plans for the evening. Have you ever wondered if there's anything worse than doing homework? There is. Grading homework. Right now, I wouldn't recommend being a teacher.
I think I'll become a sculptor who specializes in drunken angels. I'd probably be the only one.
Hungarian phrase of the day (thanks to my loyal Hungarian readers): Például (pronounced like pail, and then dowel). You gessed it, it means the topic of yesterdays post "For Example or For Instance".
Do you ever walk by something everyday and not know what it is?
I do.
If you say you don't, perhaps you should go on tour of your own town.
My favorie part went a little like this:
Tour Guide: "Do you know what the statue is on top of the fountain?"
Me: "Um, it looks like a little girl walking."
Tour Guide: "No, it is an angel. But she is...what do you call it when you have drank too much alcohol."
Me: "Drunk."
Tour Guide: "Yes, drunk! We call it the Drunken Angel fountain."
Me: "Hmm, I've never heard an angel described that way. I think that's my new favorite fountain."
There were, however, plenty of other things that didn't have to do with intoxicated deities. Maybe I can take some pictures of things and show you around Békéscsaba. I'll only do that if you agree to come visit! The Drunken Angel fountain is best viewed in person. Just don't expect water. She must have consumed it all.
Suddenly, the demand for my English language skills has sky rocketed. I've been asked to correct a translated version of a speech by the school director and proofread a paper written by the daughter of one of my colleagues. This is the part where I begin to wonder if I could sneak in ironic little phrases without anyone noticing...
Plus, my English language knowledge has given me some exciting plans for the evening. Have you ever wondered if there's anything worse than doing homework? There is. Grading homework. Right now, I wouldn't recommend being a teacher.
I think I'll become a sculptor who specializes in drunken angels. I'd probably be the only one.
Hungarian phrase of the day (thanks to my loyal Hungarian readers): Például (pronounced like pail, and then dowel). You gessed it, it means the topic of yesterdays post "For Example or For Instance".
Monday, November 15, 2010
For Example, For Instance
It's no secret that living in a foreign country can change the way you speak. Accents take a while, but little bits of vocabulary start meandering in. For example, if you live in Hungary you will start to say "for instance" - and "for example". A lot.
I don't know why, but the Hungarians seem to be very fond of these two phrases. For instance, they almost always use them when explaining something. It isn't necessary for the explanation, but it is said anyway.
These two pairs of words are the most common language difference I've noticed. For example, it's difficult to have a conversation with a Hungarian without hearing it at least once. I wonder if it's a translation issue? For instance, are these commonly used in Hungarian, and therefore they're carried over to English?
For a while, I thought I was the only one noticing it, but I found out that wasn't true. For example, the two American teachers I traveled with were joking about it. They teach in a town on the other side of Hungary, and they told me it's just as common there.
Most of the different expressions that I hear can be attributed to British English. However, I don't believe this can. For instance, how many British people do you know who often say these expressions?
This fascinates me. But, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. For example, I managed to say one or the other in every paragraph here (even twice in one!).
I don't have a Hungarian word of the day yet, because I'm going to try to learn a few phrases (I bet you can guess what they are). For instance, I should be able to tell you tomorrow.
I don't know why, but the Hungarians seem to be very fond of these two phrases. For instance, they almost always use them when explaining something. It isn't necessary for the explanation, but it is said anyway.
These two pairs of words are the most common language difference I've noticed. For example, it's difficult to have a conversation with a Hungarian without hearing it at least once. I wonder if it's a translation issue? For instance, are these commonly used in Hungarian, and therefore they're carried over to English?
For a while, I thought I was the only one noticing it, but I found out that wasn't true. For example, the two American teachers I traveled with were joking about it. They teach in a town on the other side of Hungary, and they told me it's just as common there.
Most of the different expressions that I hear can be attributed to British English. However, I don't believe this can. For instance, how many British people do you know who often say these expressions?
This fascinates me. But, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. For example, I managed to say one or the other in every paragraph here (even twice in one!).
I don't have a Hungarian word of the day yet, because I'm going to try to learn a few phrases (I bet you can guess what they are). For instance, I should be able to tell you tomorrow.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Return Of The Lángos
Remember langos, the deep-fried Hungarian bread? If you didn't see my first experience with it, you need to read Talk to the Lángos. It wasn't quite what I hoped, but I've been getting a craving to try it again.
One of my loyal Hungarian readers shared the following YouTube video with me. It shows the process of making the bread (which I hadn't seen), and the finished product ready to be eaten. You'll have to use your imagination to top it with lard, cheese, sour cream, and any other artery clogging condiments.
On another note, having a mustache is very popular in Hungary (as demonstrated here). I'm lacking in the itchy hairs of the upper lip, and maybe I need to remedy that. Perhaps that's the reason I didn't enjoy this food the first time. Lesson learned.
One of my loyal Hungarian readers shared the following YouTube video with me. It shows the process of making the bread (which I hadn't seen), and the finished product ready to be eaten. You'll have to use your imagination to top it with lard, cheese, sour cream, and any other artery clogging condiments.
On another note, having a mustache is very popular in Hungary (as demonstrated here). I'm lacking in the itchy hairs of the upper lip, and maybe I need to remedy that. Perhaps that's the reason I didn't enjoy this food the first time. Lesson learned.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Does Ordering A Beer Count As Fluency?
I may be in a foreign country, but I can still feel at home. Today was a well earned "lazy" day. I've been out and about for the past few weeks, and I almost forgot what it feels like to just rest.
To pass the time, I went to a few different cafes with my journal and a book. That's what made me realize I'm at home, not traveling.
Someone recognized me at each place I went. Our conversations were very, very limited, but we still communicated. My knowledge of the Hungarian language is severely low, and I didn't see much English in these people. However, as soon as they saw me, I knew they recognized me. Smiles, out of the ordinary for a stranger, would happen. They remembered what I usually ordered. They even spoke a few words of English.
My life has become an experiment. I've been too lazy to study much Hungarian, but I seem to learn more every day. I still can't say much, but I understand a fair amount when people talk to me. It's like living proof that someone can absorb a language simply by listening and living.
Perhaps I should start studying the language more, though. I can interact in stores, restaurants, and bars, but I can't have a conversation. Imagine, for a minute, what it would be like to go through your typical day if you couldn't speak to 95% of the people you see. It can be described as "really exciting" or "incredibly boring". Fortunately, I'm an optimist.
Hungarians are very good natured about their language. I don't speak it, and that doesn't surprise them. But, it's a great place to learn and I highly recommend it. When I say something wrong (which is often), they correct me. They usually chuckle, but they seem to be pleased that I'm trying. It's very different from the French who seem to believe you shouldn't come near their country without perfect fluency in their language.
In conclusion, learn Hungarian. It's a beautiful language, and there's a country full of people who will be happy to help you with it.
I'll start you off by returning to my Hungarian word of the day, here's an important one: sör (pronounced sure - not like shore, but the other way). It means beer, so you will say it a lot.
To pass the time, I went to a few different cafes with my journal and a book. That's what made me realize I'm at home, not traveling.
Someone recognized me at each place I went. Our conversations were very, very limited, but we still communicated. My knowledge of the Hungarian language is severely low, and I didn't see much English in these people. However, as soon as they saw me, I knew they recognized me. Smiles, out of the ordinary for a stranger, would happen. They remembered what I usually ordered. They even spoke a few words of English.
My life has become an experiment. I've been too lazy to study much Hungarian, but I seem to learn more every day. I still can't say much, but I understand a fair amount when people talk to me. It's like living proof that someone can absorb a language simply by listening and living.
Perhaps I should start studying the language more, though. I can interact in stores, restaurants, and bars, but I can't have a conversation. Imagine, for a minute, what it would be like to go through your typical day if you couldn't speak to 95% of the people you see. It can be described as "really exciting" or "incredibly boring". Fortunately, I'm an optimist.
Hungarians are very good natured about their language. I don't speak it, and that doesn't surprise them. But, it's a great place to learn and I highly recommend it. When I say something wrong (which is often), they correct me. They usually chuckle, but they seem to be pleased that I'm trying. It's very different from the French who seem to believe you shouldn't come near their country without perfect fluency in their language.
In conclusion, learn Hungarian. It's a beautiful language, and there's a country full of people who will be happy to help you with it.
I'll start you off by returning to my Hungarian word of the day, here's an important one: sör (pronounced sure - not like shore, but the other way). It means beer, so you will say it a lot.
Friday, November 12, 2010
I'm Sorry, Your Name Is Not Allowed
"In America, can people name their children whatever they'd like?"
This was the question asked to me by my Hungarian colleague. I didn't think I understood the question. Why couldn't you name your child whatever you want?
Then, she explained. In Hungary, there is a book that consists of all possible first names. When your son or daughter is born, you have to use one of these pre-approved labels for them. If you want to use something else, you must write a letter to a board that will make the decision.
I was dumbfounded.
It's not that this is a horrible idea, it's just that I'd never heard of it before - anywhere. The justification is that a child with a strange name could be picked on, and I think that's quite reasonable. Someone named We Need More Toilet Paper Smith would probably have a difficult time in life.
On the other hand, do names really need to be regulated? Being called something unique can make a boring person seem exciting and mysterious. I'd like to give a better name to every Mike I meet.
This is definitely one of those cultural differences that I can experience as an American living in another country. In the United States, people have all kinds of names because they come from all over the world. It would be impossible to judge what are appropriate, traditional names, and who just came up with the idea while watching television.
In Hungary, however, most people are Hungarians and their ancestors have lived here throughout all of recorded history. Names are so important to them that they have "Name Days". Each day of the year has a name (or names) assigned to it, and those people are treated special. If your name was Telephone Number, you'd be left out.
I would like to work for the group that makes the decision about the different names. Those people probably have some really funny stories to tell when they get home from work. How can I get that job?
This was the question asked to me by my Hungarian colleague. I didn't think I understood the question. Why couldn't you name your child whatever you want?
Then, she explained. In Hungary, there is a book that consists of all possible first names. When your son or daughter is born, you have to use one of these pre-approved labels for them. If you want to use something else, you must write a letter to a board that will make the decision.
I was dumbfounded.
It's not that this is a horrible idea, it's just that I'd never heard of it before - anywhere. The justification is that a child with a strange name could be picked on, and I think that's quite reasonable. Someone named We Need More Toilet Paper Smith would probably have a difficult time in life.
On the other hand, do names really need to be regulated? Being called something unique can make a boring person seem exciting and mysterious. I'd like to give a better name to every Mike I meet.
This is definitely one of those cultural differences that I can experience as an American living in another country. In the United States, people have all kinds of names because they come from all over the world. It would be impossible to judge what are appropriate, traditional names, and who just came up with the idea while watching television.
In Hungary, however, most people are Hungarians and their ancestors have lived here throughout all of recorded history. Names are so important to them that they have "Name Days". Each day of the year has a name (or names) assigned to it, and those people are treated special. If your name was Telephone Number, you'd be left out.
I would like to work for the group that makes the decision about the different names. Those people probably have some really funny stories to tell when they get home from work. How can I get that job?
Thursday, November 11, 2010
One Hundred And Twenty Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest
I didn't have to teach today. Instead, I went on a field trip. It started two weeks ago when I was handed a flier for a play. The paper was set on my desk, upside down, while two teachers were having a conversation next to me. I didn't think it was even for me until I was asked, "So, do you want to go?" My blank stare caused the paper to be flipped over and I saw what it said.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.
The play was being performed and it looked like a group was going. "Sure," I answered, "I'd love to go."
"Good, we already bought your ticket."
Here's a word of advice for dealing with Hungarians. Be open for anything, because they're very, very generous people. If they have food, they won't share it. They'll force you to eat some of it. If they like (or don't like) something you're wearing, they won't hesitate to tell you. If they want you to do something (like teach an extra class or go on a 13 hour field trip) they'll make plans for you to go, and then they'll ask if you want to.
It's very fun, because they won't let life pass you by. They'll drag you along kicking and screaming, and then they'll give you more food. And while they're doing this, you don't have to worry that they don't like your new beard. They'll tell you - more positive than negative, but I shaved it anyway.
We met at the train station at 7 AM, and I was expecting to see a small group of students and a few teachers. There were about five teachers, and 120 students. I'm not exaggerating, that's the number of students that went.
They had reserved a train car for us so that everyone would have a seat. Unfortunately, the Hungarian railway service seems willing to accept payment for seat reservations, and then not provide the seats. Everyone had a place on the way there, but a few had to sit on the floor coming home.
Next, the play had been moved from a theater in the city center to a slightly less convenient location. By this, I mean we got off the train and took a metro a few stops. Then we switched to a tram for a while. Finally we took another kind of train that dropped us off a mere eight or ten blocks from the theater. That's a pretty easy process with 120 kids.
To keep it interesting, I was assigned to watch a group of students that I don't teach. That means that I didn't know any of their names, didn't recognize any of them, and they probably don't speak English. Thank God there was another teacher who was also assigned to watch them. Otherwise, Hungarian reporters would right now be saying, "This just in, a record number of missing person reports were filed in the capital today - 20. An American is taking the blame and apologizing profusely for his total inability to remember Hungarian names."
Overall, the play was good. It was depressing, but well performed. I was stunned, though, at how many dirty words and sexual references were made during a performance to high school kids. I'm still convinced I grew up in the wrong place. We would've been given detention just for attending the play during school hours.
In conclusion, if you ever go on a field trip with a Hungarian school, pack a big lunch. The Hungarians are too kind to let you sit and not eat while they have food. Don't try the "I'm not hungry" excuse either (even if it's true), they've already decided the answer.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.
The play was being performed and it looked like a group was going. "Sure," I answered, "I'd love to go."
"Good, we already bought your ticket."
Here's a word of advice for dealing with Hungarians. Be open for anything, because they're very, very generous people. If they have food, they won't share it. They'll force you to eat some of it. If they like (or don't like) something you're wearing, they won't hesitate to tell you. If they want you to do something (like teach an extra class or go on a 13 hour field trip) they'll make plans for you to go, and then they'll ask if you want to.
It's very fun, because they won't let life pass you by. They'll drag you along kicking and screaming, and then they'll give you more food. And while they're doing this, you don't have to worry that they don't like your new beard. They'll tell you - more positive than negative, but I shaved it anyway.
We met at the train station at 7 AM, and I was expecting to see a small group of students and a few teachers. There were about five teachers, and 120 students. I'm not exaggerating, that's the number of students that went.
They had reserved a train car for us so that everyone would have a seat. Unfortunately, the Hungarian railway service seems willing to accept payment for seat reservations, and then not provide the seats. Everyone had a place on the way there, but a few had to sit on the floor coming home.
Next, the play had been moved from a theater in the city center to a slightly less convenient location. By this, I mean we got off the train and took a metro a few stops. Then we switched to a tram for a while. Finally we took another kind of train that dropped us off a mere eight or ten blocks from the theater. That's a pretty easy process with 120 kids.
To keep it interesting, I was assigned to watch a group of students that I don't teach. That means that I didn't know any of their names, didn't recognize any of them, and they probably don't speak English. Thank God there was another teacher who was also assigned to watch them. Otherwise, Hungarian reporters would right now be saying, "This just in, a record number of missing person reports were filed in the capital today - 20. An American is taking the blame and apologizing profusely for his total inability to remember Hungarian names."
Overall, the play was good. It was depressing, but well performed. I was stunned, though, at how many dirty words and sexual references were made during a performance to high school kids. I'm still convinced I grew up in the wrong place. We would've been given detention just for attending the play during school hours.
In conclusion, if you ever go on a field trip with a Hungarian school, pack a big lunch. The Hungarians are too kind to let you sit and not eat while they have food. Don't try the "I'm not hungry" excuse either (even if it's true), they've already decided the answer.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Slovenia And Croatia - Part 2: Spies And Beautiful Women
The other day, I told you half the story of my trip (click here if you missed it), but I left you wondering about my prison story.
Day 5 (continued): After the caves, we went back to Ljubljana and went directly to jail. We didn't cross go, and we didn't collect two hundred dollars. We did, however, have to pay for jail, because it was just a hostel built in an old prison.
I got you!
As a matter of fact, it was a very nice prison. It was crowded, colorful, and had bars on the windows. Plus, the receptionist was quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
Another cool thing about it was it's location. It was next to a very interesting part of the city. I don't really know how to describe this place, but when I was told about it I thought it was "trendy". It was explained to me by another beautiful Slovenian woman (a very nice pattern that I noticed in the country). She described it as a place where all the young people go that is decorated by a lot of graffiti - in a tasteful fashion.
I hope she never has to describe a criminal to the police.
Instead of "trendy", it looked like a mix of a ghetto and punk rock heaven. There was graffiti everywhere, abandoned looking buildings, weird statues, and very interesting people. I thought it was awesome. My travel companion, Heather, thought it was horrifying. We first saw it in the day, and I couldn't wait to go back at night. It was a letdown, though, because it was just crappy bars with middle old people drinking. I'm determined to find out when it's crowded and go back. I want to climb the treehouse.
Day 6: Our prison escape occurred bright and early. Now that we felt like fugitives, it was time to leave the country. Croatia here we come.
Get out a pen and write this down:
Zagreb.
The Croatian capital is now one of my favorite cities. No one had told me anything very positive about it, so I wasn't expecting very much. Instead, I found a nice city full of very stylish people. It wasn't touristy at all, and it had a very large cafe culture. It's a nice unspoiled city that tourism has yet to discover.
I loved it, and I could see myself moving there if I get tired of living in Hungary.
Day 7: We, regretfully, left Zagreb and went to a national park. It had lakes, Koreans, and Lady Gaga. It may not have really been Lady Gaga, but there were some bizarre people who looked like they were traveling with a musical group because they were dressed in a really strange manner. Also, I overheard them talking about doing things during performances. I can put two and two together.
The park wasn't that great, but it was okay because we had to rush through it to not miss the last bus to Split. We made that trip in record time, because our bus driver's previous job was as a stunt driver in James Bond movies. I've never seen a giant bus pass someone on the outside lane of a dark mountain road. It was incredible.
The bus driver even knew the best places to stop. We had a break at a rest stop that had cages full of peacocks, mutant deer, and bears. Fortunately, there was a thin chain-link fence to protect the bears from escaping and eating anyone. Who needs any more protection than that?
Day 8: Our stay in Split was short and sweet, and then we took another bus along the coast to Dubrovnik. It was beautiful, and we stayed in a big house up on a cliff overlooking the city and the sea. One night was too short of a stay.
Day 9: We went back to Split where we impatiently killed time before our sleeper train that night. Most of the tourist shops were closed, so we followed my suggestion and went to a bar. It made my 10 million degree train bunk that much easier to sleep in.
Day 10: I wish I could always wake up on a train. The conductor knocked on the door and gave me a cup of coffee and croissant - that's nicer than being at home!
Back into the city we went. After coffee and breakfast, we passed our time hiding from a Brazilian at the train station. We met him in Dubrovnik and rode on the bus with him. That's when Angie noticed he had gross, open sores on his head that he kept picking at. Let's not sit with him on the train like we said we would. He was on the platform, so we dashed on the train at the last second to ensure he didn't see us. It was just like a spy movie.
I had hours and hours and hours to look at Hungary before I got home (Lake Balaton is much bigger than I expected). As soon as we crossed the border, I could already notice physical and architectural differences. It never ceases to amaze me how different European countries can be from each other, even though they are geographically so close together.
Traveling is one of my favorite hobbies, but it's always good to be home - no matter where home is. This is the good life.
Day 5 (continued): After the caves, we went back to Ljubljana and went directly to jail. We didn't cross go, and we didn't collect two hundred dollars. We did, however, have to pay for jail, because it was just a hostel built in an old prison.
I got you!
As a matter of fact, it was a very nice prison. It was crowded, colorful, and had bars on the windows. Plus, the receptionist was quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.
Another cool thing about it was it's location. It was next to a very interesting part of the city. I don't really know how to describe this place, but when I was told about it I thought it was "trendy". It was explained to me by another beautiful Slovenian woman (a very nice pattern that I noticed in the country). She described it as a place where all the young people go that is decorated by a lot of graffiti - in a tasteful fashion.
I hope she never has to describe a criminal to the police.
Instead of "trendy", it looked like a mix of a ghetto and punk rock heaven. There was graffiti everywhere, abandoned looking buildings, weird statues, and very interesting people. I thought it was awesome. My travel companion, Heather, thought it was horrifying. We first saw it in the day, and I couldn't wait to go back at night. It was a letdown, though, because it was just crappy bars with middle old people drinking. I'm determined to find out when it's crowded and go back. I want to climb the treehouse.
Day 6: Our prison escape occurred bright and early. Now that we felt like fugitives, it was time to leave the country. Croatia here we come.
Get out a pen and write this down:
Zagreb.
The Croatian capital is now one of my favorite cities. No one had told me anything very positive about it, so I wasn't expecting very much. Instead, I found a nice city full of very stylish people. It wasn't touristy at all, and it had a very large cafe culture. It's a nice unspoiled city that tourism has yet to discover.
I loved it, and I could see myself moving there if I get tired of living in Hungary.
Day 7: We, regretfully, left Zagreb and went to a national park. It had lakes, Koreans, and Lady Gaga. It may not have really been Lady Gaga, but there were some bizarre people who looked like they were traveling with a musical group because they were dressed in a really strange manner. Also, I overheard them talking about doing things during performances. I can put two and two together.
The park wasn't that great, but it was okay because we had to rush through it to not miss the last bus to Split. We made that trip in record time, because our bus driver's previous job was as a stunt driver in James Bond movies. I've never seen a giant bus pass someone on the outside lane of a dark mountain road. It was incredible.
The bus driver even knew the best places to stop. We had a break at a rest stop that had cages full of peacocks, mutant deer, and bears. Fortunately, there was a thin chain-link fence to protect the bears from escaping and eating anyone. Who needs any more protection than that?
Day 8: Our stay in Split was short and sweet, and then we took another bus along the coast to Dubrovnik. It was beautiful, and we stayed in a big house up on a cliff overlooking the city and the sea. One night was too short of a stay.
Day 9: We went back to Split where we impatiently killed time before our sleeper train that night. Most of the tourist shops were closed, so we followed my suggestion and went to a bar. It made my 10 million degree train bunk that much easier to sleep in.
Day 10: I wish I could always wake up on a train. The conductor knocked on the door and gave me a cup of coffee and croissant - that's nicer than being at home!
Back into the city we went. After coffee and breakfast, we passed our time hiding from a Brazilian at the train station. We met him in Dubrovnik and rode on the bus with him. That's when Angie noticed he had gross, open sores on his head that he kept picking at. Let's not sit with him on the train like we said we would. He was on the platform, so we dashed on the train at the last second to ensure he didn't see us. It was just like a spy movie.
I had hours and hours and hours to look at Hungary before I got home (Lake Balaton is much bigger than I expected). As soon as we crossed the border, I could already notice physical and architectural differences. It never ceases to amaze me how different European countries can be from each other, even though they are geographically so close together.
Traveling is one of my favorite hobbies, but it's always good to be home - no matter where home is. This is the good life.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
If You Want Sympathy, You've Come To The Wrong Place
I'm living a life of adventure, and I love it. However, it's not always as easy as it sounds. I know I left you with a cliffhanger about prison yesterday, but that story will have to wait until tomorrow.
Would you like to know what else will have to wait until tomorrow? Me. I smell really bad. I smell bad because I don't have any clothes that are clean. To be completely accurate, I don't have any clothes that are clean and dry.
I took all of my clean clothes with me on my trip last week, and I left a bunch of dirty laundry at home. I'm fortunate because my apartment has a washing machine that washes things for me. The downside is that nature has to dry it for me, because I don't have a drier. Instead, I have an overflowing drying rack full of clothes that are attempting to keep each other wet.
This isn't a complaint, I'm just trying to share all of the aspects of this lifestyle with you. I was just able to go on an awesome trip with only a few days off, and it drained me all of my energy. That leaves me with cleaning to do, a job to figure out, and smelly or wet clothes to wear.
Many of my Hungarian students and colleagues spent last week relaxing, so they're well rested and full of energy. I'm the opposite. I spent last week living on criminally low amounts of sleep. Everyone else is accomplishing a lot and wondering why I keep wearing the same blue striped shirt.
None of this, though, is the worst part. Are you curious what is? I'll show you a way to understand how I feel. When you get to school or work tomorrow, try saying this to everyone:
"Give me a break and let me do everything slowly. I spent all of last week exploring Croatia and Slovenia while you sat at home. It really tired me out."
Be careful not to say it to someone who hasn't had their coffee, though, because they might try and kill you. I'll wear moist, stinky clothes everyday if it means I can keep rushing off to places like that on weekends. I highly recommend it.
If you're wondering what to get me for Christmas, deodorant would be nice.
Would you like to know what else will have to wait until tomorrow? Me. I smell really bad. I smell bad because I don't have any clothes that are clean. To be completely accurate, I don't have any clothes that are clean and dry.
I took all of my clean clothes with me on my trip last week, and I left a bunch of dirty laundry at home. I'm fortunate because my apartment has a washing machine that washes things for me. The downside is that nature has to dry it for me, because I don't have a drier. Instead, I have an overflowing drying rack full of clothes that are attempting to keep each other wet.
This isn't a complaint, I'm just trying to share all of the aspects of this lifestyle with you. I was just able to go on an awesome trip with only a few days off, and it drained me all of my energy. That leaves me with cleaning to do, a job to figure out, and smelly or wet clothes to wear.
Many of my Hungarian students and colleagues spent last week relaxing, so they're well rested and full of energy. I'm the opposite. I spent last week living on criminally low amounts of sleep. Everyone else is accomplishing a lot and wondering why I keep wearing the same blue striped shirt.
None of this, though, is the worst part. Are you curious what is? I'll show you a way to understand how I feel. When you get to school or work tomorrow, try saying this to everyone:
"Give me a break and let me do everything slowly. I spent all of last week exploring Croatia and Slovenia while you sat at home. It really tired me out."
Be careful not to say it to someone who hasn't had their coffee, though, because they might try and kill you. I'll wear moist, stinky clothes everyday if it means I can keep rushing off to places like that on weekends. I highly recommend it.
If you're wondering what to get me for Christmas, deodorant would be nice.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Slovenia And Croatia - Part 1: Caves, Halloween, and Prison
You may have thought I wasn't writing because I didn't have any stories, but that's not true. I had stories, I just didn't have time or internet. I'll try to give you the highlights.
Day 1: I left Békéscsaba to stay in Pápa, Hungary for the night. I got out of school early and had plenty of time to pack. But, whenever I'm early, I always move slowly and end up late. It's a curse.
I left with just enough time to make the 20 minute walk to the train station and life was good. Halfway there, I realized I forgot to put on my shirt. That's right, I was only wearing an undershirt and left my polo shirt at home. Since I only had three shirts for 10 days of travel, I needed it. I ran home, grabbed it, and literally ran to the train station. Then I had three shirts, and one of them already smelled.
I arrived in Pápa and it was like a scene from a Halloween movie. There was a big, tree-lined street that was devoid of any other humans, but I could hear screams and dogs in the distance. That seems to explain why so many horror movies are set in this neck of the woods.
Day 2: Joined by my two travel companions, Angie and Heather, we started our journey south. After crossing a river of the famous Red Toxic Sludge, we got to Ukk, Hungary for a five hour layover.
The conductor chased us off the train to make sure we were in the right place, but he didn't speak English. Since we don't speak Hungarian our conversation consisted of one word, "Ukk". He would say it, we would repeat it, he would say it again, and so would we. The changing of tones convinced us he thought it was stupid to get off here, but we were sure it's where we needed to be.
He was smart. Ukk was tiny. I mean really, really tiny. We couldn't find a town. After an hour or two in an empty, one-room train station I couldn't take it anymore. I started wandering and found a small town on the other side of a cornfield. We looked so out of place that a very nice, very toothless man stopped his car and got out to try and help us. Again the language barrier got in the way, but it gave us more faith in humanity.
Eventually, we took the train out of there. We had a relaxing ride to Ljubljana, Slovenia, but I only had one beer to drink on the train. Ukk not having any stores had really messed up my plans.
Day 3: Slovenia is on the Euro, so I watched my money fly out of my wallet. We saw a castle, ate lunch in the rain, and went to a bar full of skeletons. It was Halloween after all, so it seemed like destiny that there was an underground bar full of dead people.
That night, we took a bus to Lake Bled. It wasn't a giant, red lake, but it was awesome. We couldn't find the place we were staying, so we had to wander in the pouring rain for a while. Fortunately, a dog adopted us and happily followed along. Angie named him Happy and wanted to keep him, but Heather tried to kick him. Someone tell PETA.
We found the place on a very Halloweeny street. It was dark, rainy, and scary. Instead of a typical hostel, it was just a house where the rooms were rented out. If you want to see what it looked like, just close your eyes. Imagine you have a grandmother who lives in the former Yugoslavia. This is what her house would look like. I had a room all to myself with the coolest picture of a monkey on the wall.
Day 4: We went to a castle on a cliff. We went to a church on an island. We hung out with some other American teachers we know. We drank hot wine while walking around a lake. We ate desert first and dinner second. We had a beer in a shopping center named Gaddafi. We slept in the same place two nights in a row.
That sums up that day.
Day 5: We got up really early so we could catch a bus to the train station. It was where I began my new hatred of buses. The landlady had helped us check times on the internet, but this particular bus no longer existed when we got to the stop. Instead of being warm and comfortable in my room with monkey art, I watched high school kids chain smoking in the rain.
It wasn't a waste of a day though, because we went to caves. The first cave had a roller-coaster-like train to take you deep inside - it was just like Indiana Jones. There were a million tourists, and most of them were from Korea. But, don't worry, they made sure to tell us they were from South Korea, not the North. Then they pushed us out of the way. Now that I think about it, they seemed to be more interested in pushing people than seeing the cave. Maybe that's why the Koreans don't get along with each other.
Next, we went to a castle. A different castle, though, because this one was in a cave! It's probably the coolest castle I've ever seen. You should go there. I don't remember the name, but you could always push your way on to a bus full of Koreans.
There was a free shuttle from the train station to the cave and the castle. On this shuttle, we met a guy from India. He was obsessed with finding the internet. He literally asked everyone - including people in the cave - if there was internet he could use. He also asked for our e-mail addresses. On our way back to the train station, the bus driver said, "That guy from India was nice, but he wanted my e-mail address. I wasn't sure why, but I gave it to him." I can't wait to see what he sends me.
We spent that night in prison.
But, I'll have to finish the story tomorrow, because I need to get some rest.
Day 1: I left Békéscsaba to stay in Pápa, Hungary for the night. I got out of school early and had plenty of time to pack. But, whenever I'm early, I always move slowly and end up late. It's a curse.
I left with just enough time to make the 20 minute walk to the train station and life was good. Halfway there, I realized I forgot to put on my shirt. That's right, I was only wearing an undershirt and left my polo shirt at home. Since I only had three shirts for 10 days of travel, I needed it. I ran home, grabbed it, and literally ran to the train station. Then I had three shirts, and one of them already smelled.
I arrived in Pápa and it was like a scene from a Halloween movie. There was a big, tree-lined street that was devoid of any other humans, but I could hear screams and dogs in the distance. That seems to explain why so many horror movies are set in this neck of the woods.
Day 2: Joined by my two travel companions, Angie and Heather, we started our journey south. After crossing a river of the famous Red Toxic Sludge, we got to Ukk, Hungary for a five hour layover.
The conductor chased us off the train to make sure we were in the right place, but he didn't speak English. Since we don't speak Hungarian our conversation consisted of one word, "Ukk". He would say it, we would repeat it, he would say it again, and so would we. The changing of tones convinced us he thought it was stupid to get off here, but we were sure it's where we needed to be.
He was smart. Ukk was tiny. I mean really, really tiny. We couldn't find a town. After an hour or two in an empty, one-room train station I couldn't take it anymore. I started wandering and found a small town on the other side of a cornfield. We looked so out of place that a very nice, very toothless man stopped his car and got out to try and help us. Again the language barrier got in the way, but it gave us more faith in humanity.
Eventually, we took the train out of there. We had a relaxing ride to Ljubljana, Slovenia, but I only had one beer to drink on the train. Ukk not having any stores had really messed up my plans.
Day 3: Slovenia is on the Euro, so I watched my money fly out of my wallet. We saw a castle, ate lunch in the rain, and went to a bar full of skeletons. It was Halloween after all, so it seemed like destiny that there was an underground bar full of dead people.
That night, we took a bus to Lake Bled. It wasn't a giant, red lake, but it was awesome. We couldn't find the place we were staying, so we had to wander in the pouring rain for a while. Fortunately, a dog adopted us and happily followed along. Angie named him Happy and wanted to keep him, but Heather tried to kick him. Someone tell PETA.
We found the place on a very Halloweeny street. It was dark, rainy, and scary. Instead of a typical hostel, it was just a house where the rooms were rented out. If you want to see what it looked like, just close your eyes. Imagine you have a grandmother who lives in the former Yugoslavia. This is what her house would look like. I had a room all to myself with the coolest picture of a monkey on the wall.
Day 4: We went to a castle on a cliff. We went to a church on an island. We hung out with some other American teachers we know. We drank hot wine while walking around a lake. We ate desert first and dinner second. We had a beer in a shopping center named Gaddafi. We slept in the same place two nights in a row.
That sums up that day.
Day 5: We got up really early so we could catch a bus to the train station. It was where I began my new hatred of buses. The landlady had helped us check times on the internet, but this particular bus no longer existed when we got to the stop. Instead of being warm and comfortable in my room with monkey art, I watched high school kids chain smoking in the rain.
It wasn't a waste of a day though, because we went to caves. The first cave had a roller-coaster-like train to take you deep inside - it was just like Indiana Jones. There were a million tourists, and most of them were from Korea. But, don't worry, they made sure to tell us they were from South Korea, not the North. Then they pushed us out of the way. Now that I think about it, they seemed to be more interested in pushing people than seeing the cave. Maybe that's why the Koreans don't get along with each other.
Next, we went to a castle. A different castle, though, because this one was in a cave! It's probably the coolest castle I've ever seen. You should go there. I don't remember the name, but you could always push your way on to a bus full of Koreans.
There was a free shuttle from the train station to the cave and the castle. On this shuttle, we met a guy from India. He was obsessed with finding the internet. He literally asked everyone - including people in the cave - if there was internet he could use. He also asked for our e-mail addresses. On our way back to the train station, the bus driver said, "That guy from India was nice, but he wanted my e-mail address. I wasn't sure why, but I gave it to him." I can't wait to see what he sends me.
We spent that night in prison.
But, I'll have to finish the story tomorrow, because I need to get some rest.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Lake Bled Is Not Bloody
Im in Slovenia right now, and everythings going well (except I cant find the apostrophe key on this keyboard).
Slovenia is a perfect place to spend Halloween because it is naturally decorated. Its hard to tell what is a decoration and what was already there. I love it.
Ill write more of my stories later.
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