Pretend, for a second, that this isn't a website. This is a small cardboard box. It's wrapped in pretty red paper, and it has a hole cut in the top. Next to it, on the table, is a pen and a stack of paper. There is a little sign that says, "Please, tell us how were doing!"
Now we can come back to reality. I'd like you to tell me what you want me to write about. Whenever you think of something that you'd like to know, leave a question in the comments. If you'd rather e-mail me, you can find a link for that in my profile (somewhere on the side of the page).
I've received quite a few comments and e-mails so far, and I really appreciate them! Let me know what you like, don't like, and want to hear more about (or anything about, because I haven't mentioned it).
I've received one major suggestion so far. A few people would like to know how I got here, and what my working and living situations are like. I'm planning to write a post about that sometime in the next few days.
Plus, I'm working on getting pictures organized so you can have more visual satisfaction. A picture's worth a thousand words, right?
So please, give me feedback. I promise I will do my best to accommodate it.
Here's an example: Maguire Curran has been asking for his name to be mentioned here from the start. Check one thing off the to-do list.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Forget Toxic Sludge, Someone Tell CNN About the Spiderwebs
If you're not in Hungary, you've probably heard about the horrible Toxic Sludge accident. This catasrophic event has killed many Hungarian residents and poisoned the water supplies of everyone downriver. Everyone is talking about it.
If you're in Hungary, you probably don't know there was a Toxic Sludge accident. I was told about it by Americans and the international news media. CNN World is one of my two English speaking channels, and it's constantly warning me about the doom in Hungary.
The interesting part, however, is that my Hungarian friends haven't said a word. If America couldn't talk to me, I wouldn't know there was sludge. Does this mean it's not bad, or am I just out of the loop because it's on the other side of the country?
There's only one way to find out.
Yes, that's right. I headed for the ever Red Toxic Sludge last weekend.
Some of my fellow American teachers live in a town called Pápa, which is about 17 miles from the spill. They had graciously invited me to visit them this weekend and we were all looking forward to it. This was before the catastrophe.
CNN became a constant reminder that my weekend trip could be a bad idea. Then I decided it might be my one and only chance to see Red Sludge. Plus, it can't be that dangerous. Science fiction movies taught me that it's only dangerous if it's green. Problem solved.
I spent Friday in Budapest, because I couldn't leave early enough to make it to Pápa that night. Fortunately, I met some Brazilian guys and went to a club with them. They taught me two very interesting things. First, there's an awesome Portuguese word that can be used for everything (cheers; excuse me; Wow, that girl is beautiful!; etc.). But, I forgot the word, oops. Second, Brazilian guys have a talent for being very quiet and mellow while drinking a few beers. Then, like the flick of a switch, they can just look at a girl and make her fall in love with them. I wish that trick had been the third interesting thing they taught me.
Saturday, I arrived in Pápa. I was greeted at the station and then given a very good tour. Here was the itinerary (Heather and Angie, you suggested it, so you know I have to do this):
First Stop: The grociery store. It's a very fun place to go before you have a chance to set down your heavy backpack.
Second Stop: A church bell tower (after dropping off my bag). I waited until we arrived at the top to mention I'm horribly afraid of heights. It's not that I don't trust them, it's just that many of the wooden steps seemed rotten and moved when you stepped on them. The view was great, but I still didn't get a glimpse of the Toxic Sludge.
Third Stop: A closed museum. According to the hours on the door, it was open. According to the locked door handle, it was closed. I'm very relieved to know that Békéscsaba isn't the only place where posted hours mean nothing.
Fourth Stop: A palace. It looked cool on the outside, and very dirty and run down on the inside. We found a room that you had to pay to get into, so we did. It wasn't a really special room like we thought, it was crappy like the rest (the fee seemed to be a result of the paintings on the wall). In order to get even, we sat on the lion statues out front and took about 4 million pictures.
Fifth Stop: The oldest tree in Hungary. Or maybe it's the biggest tree in Hungary. Or the widest. Or the one most worthy of a plaque in front of it. They've tried asking Hungarians, but as usual, no explanation was given. Maybe it's a traditional tree.
After that, we went back to their flats (if we say "apartment", Hungarians don't know what we mean) for dinner. They put on a very impressive show. They made a massive Mexican style feast. There was one vegetarian, and one who's allergic to gluten and lactose, but this didn't stand in their way.
They functioned like a team of champs, using three kitchens (that I know about). Cookies were baked in an oven with no temperature regulation. Corn tortillas were made from scratch. Chicken was cooked with imported taco seasoning. The list goes on and on.
I decided I wouldn't be able to impress them with the fact that I sometimes put extra toppings on my frozen pizza. I kept that to myself.
We even had some Pálinka, the Hungarian brandy. Not sure what flavor to choose, we went with my students recommendation, plum. Yes that's right, my students told me what kind of liquor I should try. My job is to get them to speak English. If talking about Pálinka gets them to do that, we talk about Pálinka.
They were right, by the way, plum was a good choice. We drank it out of wine glasses. I, being the only guy at a table of four women, was given the biggest glass. Sweet.
The next day, my friend Heather and I went to the neighboring town of Győr. We wanted to see the inside of some churches, but weren't able to. Being Sunday, they were locked and we couldn't get inside. There are things about this country that I'll never understand.
On the plus side, I think we planned out a place to go for our fall break. We were supposed to go to Transylvania as a big group. But, as my Transylvania trips always do, it fell through. I'll wait for more details to be finalized before I explain it, though. You can remain on the edge of your seat.
Now, the spiderwebs. If you know me, you know that I love, love, love Halloween. Therefore, I was very sad to come to a country where it's not celebrated. However, since many of our scary Halloween monsters and their stories come from this region, I thought it would be alright.
It's more than alright. If you're in the United States, you're probably noticing people have decorated houses and store fronts with giant, fake spiderwebs. They make everything look very scary when combined with the changing leaves.
In Hungary, the spiders are decorating. Suddenly, you can't walk down the street without spiderwebs sticking to your face. They're inexplicably strung in places where a spider couldn't possibly build them (for example, across a parking lot). Also, we literally have seen them fall from the sky and land on your head. Who needs those stupid fake ones from the store? This is real Halloween country. Plus, we may or may not be in Transylvania on Halloween...
Now, I would like to thank my friends for their hospitality and company this weekend. I had a great time with some awesome people, and really enjoyed the giant feast they prepared. If you would like to read their blogs, check them out here:
Heather's blog (yes, it looks very familiar, it's just proof that great minds think alike):
http://heatherinhungary.blogspot.com/
Angie's blog:
http://alaginess.wordpress.com/
Perhaps they will have different stories about their tour guiding skills.
That wraps up my longest post ever. I owed it to you after a few days of not writing anything. I'll try to get some of the pictures here soon.
Remember, when you're watching the news, it's not the Toxic Sludge you have to worry about, it's the mutant spiders who make miraculous webs. Has anyone ever heard of Spider Man? I do have a spider bite...
If you're in Hungary, you probably don't know there was a Toxic Sludge accident. I was told about it by Americans and the international news media. CNN World is one of my two English speaking channels, and it's constantly warning me about the doom in Hungary.
The interesting part, however, is that my Hungarian friends haven't said a word. If America couldn't talk to me, I wouldn't know there was sludge. Does this mean it's not bad, or am I just out of the loop because it's on the other side of the country?
There's only one way to find out.
Yes, that's right. I headed for the ever Red Toxic Sludge last weekend.
Some of my fellow American teachers live in a town called Pápa, which is about 17 miles from the spill. They had graciously invited me to visit them this weekend and we were all looking forward to it. This was before the catastrophe.
CNN became a constant reminder that my weekend trip could be a bad idea. Then I decided it might be my one and only chance to see Red Sludge. Plus, it can't be that dangerous. Science fiction movies taught me that it's only dangerous if it's green. Problem solved.
I spent Friday in Budapest, because I couldn't leave early enough to make it to Pápa that night. Fortunately, I met some Brazilian guys and went to a club with them. They taught me two very interesting things. First, there's an awesome Portuguese word that can be used for everything (cheers; excuse me; Wow, that girl is beautiful!; etc.). But, I forgot the word, oops. Second, Brazilian guys have a talent for being very quiet and mellow while drinking a few beers. Then, like the flick of a switch, they can just look at a girl and make her fall in love with them. I wish that trick had been the third interesting thing they taught me.
Saturday, I arrived in Pápa. I was greeted at the station and then given a very good tour. Here was the itinerary (Heather and Angie, you suggested it, so you know I have to do this):
First Stop: The grociery store. It's a very fun place to go before you have a chance to set down your heavy backpack.
Second Stop: A church bell tower (after dropping off my bag). I waited until we arrived at the top to mention I'm horribly afraid of heights. It's not that I don't trust them, it's just that many of the wooden steps seemed rotten and moved when you stepped on them. The view was great, but I still didn't get a glimpse of the Toxic Sludge.
Third Stop: A closed museum. According to the hours on the door, it was open. According to the locked door handle, it was closed. I'm very relieved to know that Békéscsaba isn't the only place where posted hours mean nothing.
Fourth Stop: A palace. It looked cool on the outside, and very dirty and run down on the inside. We found a room that you had to pay to get into, so we did. It wasn't a really special room like we thought, it was crappy like the rest (the fee seemed to be a result of the paintings on the wall). In order to get even, we sat on the lion statues out front and took about 4 million pictures.
Fifth Stop: The oldest tree in Hungary. Or maybe it's the biggest tree in Hungary. Or the widest. Or the one most worthy of a plaque in front of it. They've tried asking Hungarians, but as usual, no explanation was given. Maybe it's a traditional tree.
After that, we went back to their flats (if we say "apartment", Hungarians don't know what we mean) for dinner. They put on a very impressive show. They made a massive Mexican style feast. There was one vegetarian, and one who's allergic to gluten and lactose, but this didn't stand in their way.
They functioned like a team of champs, using three kitchens (that I know about). Cookies were baked in an oven with no temperature regulation. Corn tortillas were made from scratch. Chicken was cooked with imported taco seasoning. The list goes on and on.
I decided I wouldn't be able to impress them with the fact that I sometimes put extra toppings on my frozen pizza. I kept that to myself.
We even had some Pálinka, the Hungarian brandy. Not sure what flavor to choose, we went with my students recommendation, plum. Yes that's right, my students told me what kind of liquor I should try. My job is to get them to speak English. If talking about Pálinka gets them to do that, we talk about Pálinka.
They were right, by the way, plum was a good choice. We drank it out of wine glasses. I, being the only guy at a table of four women, was given the biggest glass. Sweet.
The next day, my friend Heather and I went to the neighboring town of Győr. We wanted to see the inside of some churches, but weren't able to. Being Sunday, they were locked and we couldn't get inside. There are things about this country that I'll never understand.
On the plus side, I think we planned out a place to go for our fall break. We were supposed to go to Transylvania as a big group. But, as my Transylvania trips always do, it fell through. I'll wait for more details to be finalized before I explain it, though. You can remain on the edge of your seat.
Now, the spiderwebs. If you know me, you know that I love, love, love Halloween. Therefore, I was very sad to come to a country where it's not celebrated. However, since many of our scary Halloween monsters and their stories come from this region, I thought it would be alright.
It's more than alright. If you're in the United States, you're probably noticing people have decorated houses and store fronts with giant, fake spiderwebs. They make everything look very scary when combined with the changing leaves.
In Hungary, the spiders are decorating. Suddenly, you can't walk down the street without spiderwebs sticking to your face. They're inexplicably strung in places where a spider couldn't possibly build them (for example, across a parking lot). Also, we literally have seen them fall from the sky and land on your head. Who needs those stupid fake ones from the store? This is real Halloween country. Plus, we may or may not be in Transylvania on Halloween...
Now, I would like to thank my friends for their hospitality and company this weekend. I had a great time with some awesome people, and really enjoyed the giant feast they prepared. If you would like to read their blogs, check them out here:
Heather's blog (yes, it looks very familiar, it's just proof that great minds think alike):
http://heatherinhungary.blogspot.com/
Angie's blog:
http://alaginess.wordpress.com/
Perhaps they will have different stories about their tour guiding skills.
That wraps up my longest post ever. I owed it to you after a few days of not writing anything. I'll try to get some of the pictures here soon.
Remember, when you're watching the news, it's not the Toxic Sludge you have to worry about, it's the mutant spiders who make miraculous webs. Has anyone ever heard of Spider Man? I do have a spider bite...
Thursday, October 7, 2010
The Teacher Has Become The Student
Today, I was teaching, and then I was learning. Just like that. There was no middle ground. Complete reversal.
It was in a beginner class, my lowest level. We started going through a list of vocabulary words in their book, and I asked if they knew what the first one meant. They were terms to describe places people live (i.e. crowded, busy, traditional, quiet). They told me they did know the first one, and then they all said something incomprehensible.
Uh-oh. They look really confident about that answer, but I have no idea what they just said. Wait, I think it was Hungarian. That's better than just really, really, really bad pronunciation.
It was Hungarian. It was their word for this particular vocabulary word. Then they asked me to repeat it. I tried and failed, a few times. Finally, a frustrated girl got up and walked to the board. She wrote the Hungarian word under the English word. I said it, got corrected, said it again, and was cheered!
The girl went back to her seat, but came back up for the next word. Then she just stayed up at the front, and wrote the Hungarian word for each one. They would struggle through an English pronunciation, and I would struggle through a Hungarian one. It was all quite comical - for everyone involved.
I wouldn't normally do this. My job is to teach English, and sometimes it's too distracting if we try to bring Hungarian into the picture. This, however, was the exception. More than teach them, I'm supposed to increase the comfort level of speaking English. Right and wrong isn't as important as just trying. They were certainly trying.
This class has been one of my biggest challenges. I taught them on my first day, and they didn't speak one word of English. All my preparations had been for students that know something, anything. They knew nothing. My backup plan was to tell about myself by drawing pictures on the board. There weren't markers. By the end of that lesson, I know that some of them were thinking "this class is going to be horrible, I have no idea what that guy was saying, I hate English already!" Of course, those thoughts were in Hungarian.
Now, they've improved quite a bit, but are still beginners. It's awesome to see their knowledge and confidence increase. I think my bad Hungarian pronunciations made a difference to them. Instead of being the "native speaker" who everyone turns to when there's a question about the language, I was also a beginner. They had to sound out words, and I still made mistakes. Now we both know how the other feels.
But, I still think they know more than they let on to. We were playing hangman, and the word was "classroom". They had figured out three letters of the word, and they read like this: _ _ A S S _ _ _ _ . I saw one boy nudge his friend, whisper something, and they both laughed. They're full of surprises.
I don't think this'll ever get old.
It was in a beginner class, my lowest level. We started going through a list of vocabulary words in their book, and I asked if they knew what the first one meant. They were terms to describe places people live (i.e. crowded, busy, traditional, quiet). They told me they did know the first one, and then they all said something incomprehensible.
Uh-oh. They look really confident about that answer, but I have no idea what they just said. Wait, I think it was Hungarian. That's better than just really, really, really bad pronunciation.
It was Hungarian. It was their word for this particular vocabulary word. Then they asked me to repeat it. I tried and failed, a few times. Finally, a frustrated girl got up and walked to the board. She wrote the Hungarian word under the English word. I said it, got corrected, said it again, and was cheered!
The girl went back to her seat, but came back up for the next word. Then she just stayed up at the front, and wrote the Hungarian word for each one. They would struggle through an English pronunciation, and I would struggle through a Hungarian one. It was all quite comical - for everyone involved.
I wouldn't normally do this. My job is to teach English, and sometimes it's too distracting if we try to bring Hungarian into the picture. This, however, was the exception. More than teach them, I'm supposed to increase the comfort level of speaking English. Right and wrong isn't as important as just trying. They were certainly trying.
This class has been one of my biggest challenges. I taught them on my first day, and they didn't speak one word of English. All my preparations had been for students that know something, anything. They knew nothing. My backup plan was to tell about myself by drawing pictures on the board. There weren't markers. By the end of that lesson, I know that some of them were thinking "this class is going to be horrible, I have no idea what that guy was saying, I hate English already!" Of course, those thoughts were in Hungarian.
Now, they've improved quite a bit, but are still beginners. It's awesome to see their knowledge and confidence increase. I think my bad Hungarian pronunciations made a difference to them. Instead of being the "native speaker" who everyone turns to when there's a question about the language, I was also a beginner. They had to sound out words, and I still made mistakes. Now we both know how the other feels.
But, I still think they know more than they let on to. We were playing hangman, and the word was "classroom". They had figured out three letters of the word, and they read like this: _ _ A S S _ _ _ _ . I saw one boy nudge his friend, whisper something, and they both laughed. They're full of surprises.
I don't think this'll ever get old.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
It's Tradition
Remember, remember the Sixth of October,
Listen to poems and pout,
I know of no reason
To tell the American teacher
He shall figure it out.
-My translation of a Hungarian poem I heard this morning, notice the similarities?
This morning, I was running a little bit late. I arrived at school at 7:45, the time my first class was to begin. I dashed through the doorway of the school, and headed to the teachers room on the second floor (or first floor, if you're a European). On my way, I couldn't help but notice a whole bunch of chairs set up in the lobby, and three microphones on the stage-like area in front of the stairs. I see this about once a week, when someone is giving a presentation on something. No one ever tells me about them, but it's never anything that applies to me. Until today.
I passed three older Hungarians on the stairs, and thought it was a little strange that I didn't recognize them. Then I noticed they were followed by the school director (in a suit - also unusual) and other important people. I pushed this from my mind, though, because it's very common for me to see unexplained things like this.
Then I arrived at an empty classroom. I'm not sure if I've mentioned, but I always meet the students at their classroom (a big difference from high school in the US). Sometimes times change. Sometimes rooms change. Sometimes classes get cancelled. Sometimes people tell me about these things in advance, but I don't count on it.
Usually, I go ask someone if there's a change if I should know about. But, everyone who would know was busy. The three unkown people were at the microphones reading something out of a binder. I assumed my students were among the big group listening.
I walked to the back stairway and went upstairs. I realized all the classes were listening to these speeches over the PA system, if they weren't watching it live. The lobby is a circular room that is open to all four floors of the school. I leaned against the railing upstairs, with another class, and listened to a 45 minute reading in Hungarian. I didn't understand one word.
It sounded serious. Everyone looked stern. Who were these three people? Has a war started? Has the government been overthrown and these people are telling us the rules of the new one? Why does it have to be during this class, I like this one. Can we reschedule this for one of my classes where they don't behave?
Finally, they finished. Everyone got up and went about their day. The chairs were put away and the microphones unplugged. No one mentioned death on a massive scale or how unreasonable the new laws are, so I figured I was safe.
After a while, I began to wonder if I imagined it all. I asked another teacher what it was all about. To no surprise, I was given a typical Hungarian response:
"In 1848 we had a revolution against the Habsburgs. The leaders were killed on the Sixth of October in Arad. You know where Arad is?"
I said yes, I know Arad is a Hungarian city that's now in Romania. She smiled and walked away. The mystery was solved. It's some sort of commemoration of the "13 Martyrs of Arad". They led a revolution against the Habsburg empire, but unfortunately, they weren't successful. They were executed but are now remembered as Hungarian heroes.
It all makes sense, except for the little part about what they were reading. A poem? A story? The Hungarian translations of my blog posts? I guess I'll never know. I'll just stick with the typical Hungarian response to a question of why something's done, it's tradition.
Bekescsaba Photographs
Click this picture, and it will take you to a page where I've posted a bunch of pictures of Békéscsaba.
Monday, October 4, 2010
The Socialist Party Party
No, my title is not a typo. This blog is about the parties thrown by the Magyar Szocialista Párt (Hungarian Socialist Party). They don't sound like they'd be wild and crazy, but you would be surprised.
First, I should explain that I think there's an election coming up. Politicians have plastered their posters all over town. I find them interesting, because they look like political posters in the US, but they have a fancy photo of the person. Some appear angry, probably trying to make you vote for them out of fear. Others smile and look jolly, obviously going for the life-of-the-party approach. My favorite, though, are the people who look genuinely miserable. I think they stand a fighting chance, because they look like they were born to spend their days in a government building.
Last Friday, I was walking by the Csaba Center (the local mall), and I saw a stage set up. It seems to be the cool place to have a stage, so I wasn't surprised. I was surprised, however, when a girl dressed as a giant lego came up to me and started talking. I couldn't understand a word she said, but she had big red lego box around her torso, and her face was painted red. She tried to give me a lego piece and was explaining what to do with it, but it was over my head. Fortunately, I think she has a future in politics because she looked miserable in her stupid costume.
The stage had the initials MSZP on it's backdrop. I know this stands for the socialist party, because their local headquarters happens to be attached to my apartment building. I think we're friends because they give me dirty looks everytime I have the nerve to use their sidewalk. I thought socialism was about sharing?
Aside from the coincidence that red lego blocks were my school's Garabonciás theme, there was nothing exciting going on. Until later, when I came back. I was lured down the street when I could hear music playing. The sight that awaited me was horrible, but too great to look away. It was a band made up of six middle aged members. Most of them had the look of older people that want to be young musicians, but the lead singer definitely wins first prize. He was wearing baggy leather pants, a cotton t-shirt that almost came to his knees, a leather jacket, and, the best part, and American flag do-rag (without a doubt the first time I've ever written this word, but wikipedia has confirmed that this is the correct spelling). Mastercard couldn't use this man in an advertisement, because priceless wasn't a strong enough word for him.
I quickly lost interest in this band, because I couldn't stand to hear them butcher the Rolling Stones like that. But, I giggled about it my whole walk home. I was going to write about it, but it slipped my mind because of lack of excitement. That is, until last night.
Last night, as you know, I stayed up late to watch the Redskins. Finally, at 1 AM, I was comfortable with the lead and decided to sleep for a few hours. When I went to check that my front door was locked, I heard loud music. Very loud music. More-than-one-person-should-call-the-cops-because-it's-way-too-loud-for-one-o'clock-in-the-morning-on-Sunday-night loud music.
As you know, curiosity for anything that could be funny is a weakness of mine. I went outside. Across the courtyard, through the rain, I saw a bunch of Hungarian socialists informing the entire world "We're not gonna take it" while the Twisted Sister song tried to keep up. That's right, evidently they missed the political structure of the 1980's, so they played some American rock hits to try and bring it back. I couldn't see too well, but there were at least a dozen people dancing around excitedly. The music was loud, but they were louder. Perhaps they had achieved some sort of victory that day? Maybe they just felt like singing.
So remember, if you come to Hungary you should be aware of the socialists. If you forget, I'm sure they will remind you. They will sing, in heavily accented English, "we're not gonna take it, anymore."
First, I should explain that I think there's an election coming up. Politicians have plastered their posters all over town. I find them interesting, because they look like political posters in the US, but they have a fancy photo of the person. Some appear angry, probably trying to make you vote for them out of fear. Others smile and look jolly, obviously going for the life-of-the-party approach. My favorite, though, are the people who look genuinely miserable. I think they stand a fighting chance, because they look like they were born to spend their days in a government building.
Last Friday, I was walking by the Csaba Center (the local mall), and I saw a stage set up. It seems to be the cool place to have a stage, so I wasn't surprised. I was surprised, however, when a girl dressed as a giant lego came up to me and started talking. I couldn't understand a word she said, but she had big red lego box around her torso, and her face was painted red. She tried to give me a lego piece and was explaining what to do with it, but it was over my head. Fortunately, I think she has a future in politics because she looked miserable in her stupid costume.
The stage had the initials MSZP on it's backdrop. I know this stands for the socialist party, because their local headquarters happens to be attached to my apartment building. I think we're friends because they give me dirty looks everytime I have the nerve to use their sidewalk. I thought socialism was about sharing?
Aside from the coincidence that red lego blocks were my school's Garabonciás theme, there was nothing exciting going on. Until later, when I came back. I was lured down the street when I could hear music playing. The sight that awaited me was horrible, but too great to look away. It was a band made up of six middle aged members. Most of them had the look of older people that want to be young musicians, but the lead singer definitely wins first prize. He was wearing baggy leather pants, a cotton t-shirt that almost came to his knees, a leather jacket, and, the best part, and American flag do-rag (without a doubt the first time I've ever written this word, but wikipedia has confirmed that this is the correct spelling). Mastercard couldn't use this man in an advertisement, because priceless wasn't a strong enough word for him.
I quickly lost interest in this band, because I couldn't stand to hear them butcher the Rolling Stones like that. But, I giggled about it my whole walk home. I was going to write about it, but it slipped my mind because of lack of excitement. That is, until last night.
Last night, as you know, I stayed up late to watch the Redskins. Finally, at 1 AM, I was comfortable with the lead and decided to sleep for a few hours. When I went to check that my front door was locked, I heard loud music. Very loud music. More-than-one-person-should-call-the-cops-because-it's-way-too-loud-for-one-o'clock-in-the-morning-on-Sunday-night loud music.
As you know, curiosity for anything that could be funny is a weakness of mine. I went outside. Across the courtyard, through the rain, I saw a bunch of Hungarian socialists informing the entire world "We're not gonna take it" while the Twisted Sister song tried to keep up. That's right, evidently they missed the political structure of the 1980's, so they played some American rock hits to try and bring it back. I couldn't see too well, but there were at least a dozen people dancing around excitedly. The music was loud, but they were louder. Perhaps they had achieved some sort of victory that day? Maybe they just felt like singing.
So remember, if you come to Hungary you should be aware of the socialists. If you forget, I'm sure they will remind you. They will sing, in heavily accented English, "we're not gonna take it, anymore."
There's No Hungarian Word For "First Down"
I was about to go to bed. This week, it's my goal to get on a good sleep schedule. That means getting to bed early every night so I don't need a nap every afternoon. Fate, however, does not want this to happen. There have been a change in plans that will result in me being tired in the morning.
My Hungarian TV is showing the Redskins.
One of my classes was telling me the schedule, and it sounds like they show two NFL games a week. There's a Sunday afternoon game, and the Monday night game is replayed on Tuesday (because it would be in the middle of the night here). This week, the Hungarians seem to be happy with me because they decided to show me the Redskins beating the Eagles.
If you don't like watching commercials, you should watch the game here. The first quarter is almost over, and there hasn't been a commercial break yet. It must be a result of soccer never having breaks, so they don't know how to do it.
It sounds really cool, "alright, the game will just keep going and I won't have to see really funny beer advertisements and clips of dumb shows that I don't want to watch". Instead, I hear Hungarian announcers explaining something that I can't understand, while they show a the bird's eye view of the stadium for 5 minutes.
Earlier today, I went to the Munkácsy Mihály Museum. He was a painter who grew up here in Békéscsaba, and then went on to become really famous. I saw a bunch of his paintings last week in the Hungarian National Gallery in Budapest. The museum here was cool, even if I didn't understand most of it. The few exhibits on that man were in English, but the rest was in Magyarul. I thought it was only a museum on the painter, but it also seemed to be a lot of history of this region. It was very interesting, that is to everyone who speaks Hungarian.
It kept things exciting that the people who work there spoke absolutely no English. Combine that with my knowledge of museum instructions in Hungarian, and there was a lot of laughing, pointing, and hand signals. They had a special display (today was it's last day - one of the reasons I went), and it was very impressive. It was photographs by a guy named Robert Capa, who seemed to be a combat photographer. There were some great pictures of World War II.
After I went through the whole museum, I said good-bye to the museum people and headed towards the door. Then, they gave me a big complicated explanation that I couldn't understand. After a lot of frustrated pointing, one of them got up and showed me there was a downstairs. I had a bunch more to see. It wasn't time to leave.
But, it is time to go to bed. I meant to be asleep an hour and a half ago, so tomorrow morning should be fun.
It was worth it, though, because I learned a valuable lesson tonight. Everytime there is a big play in the football game, there is a bunch of excited chattering in Hungarian. Suddenly, "first down" will come out. As vast as the Hungarian language seems, no one thought to make a word to describe a first down.
Next time someone asks you if you know any Hungarian, you can say, "yes I do, first down".
My Hungarian TV is showing the Redskins.
One of my classes was telling me the schedule, and it sounds like they show two NFL games a week. There's a Sunday afternoon game, and the Monday night game is replayed on Tuesday (because it would be in the middle of the night here). This week, the Hungarians seem to be happy with me because they decided to show me the Redskins beating the Eagles.
If you don't like watching commercials, you should watch the game here. The first quarter is almost over, and there hasn't been a commercial break yet. It must be a result of soccer never having breaks, so they don't know how to do it.
It sounds really cool, "alright, the game will just keep going and I won't have to see really funny beer advertisements and clips of dumb shows that I don't want to watch". Instead, I hear Hungarian announcers explaining something that I can't understand, while they show a the bird's eye view of the stadium for 5 minutes.
Earlier today, I went to the Munkácsy Mihály Museum. He was a painter who grew up here in Békéscsaba, and then went on to become really famous. I saw a bunch of his paintings last week in the Hungarian National Gallery in Budapest. The museum here was cool, even if I didn't understand most of it. The few exhibits on that man were in English, but the rest was in Magyarul. I thought it was only a museum on the painter, but it also seemed to be a lot of history of this region. It was very interesting, that is to everyone who speaks Hungarian.
It kept things exciting that the people who work there spoke absolutely no English. Combine that with my knowledge of museum instructions in Hungarian, and there was a lot of laughing, pointing, and hand signals. They had a special display (today was it's last day - one of the reasons I went), and it was very impressive. It was photographs by a guy named Robert Capa, who seemed to be a combat photographer. There were some great pictures of World War II.
After I went through the whole museum, I said good-bye to the museum people and headed towards the door. Then, they gave me a big complicated explanation that I couldn't understand. After a lot of frustrated pointing, one of them got up and showed me there was a downstairs. I had a bunch more to see. It wasn't time to leave.
But, it is time to go to bed. I meant to be asleep an hour and a half ago, so tomorrow morning should be fun.
It was worth it, though, because I learned a valuable lesson tonight. Everytime there is a big play in the football game, there is a bunch of excited chattering in Hungarian. Suddenly, "first down" will come out. As vast as the Hungarian language seems, no one thought to make a word to describe a first down.
Next time someone asks you if you know any Hungarian, you can say, "yes I do, first down".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)