"Adam loves you tanar-neni"

Spring is coming. 

The No can tell. Not only because it is light after 4pm, not only because there is less bite in the chilly gusts of wind that accompany her to school, but because her students may be beginning to crack. 

This week students have professed love to the No in 3 separate classes. One student tacked variations of "and Miss has my unending love" or "Miss is very nice today" onto every sentence he had to read from the textbook. In a couple of her classes, the students keep asking about if the No has a boyfriend (hadn't we gone over that?). Got asked to party with two groups of students (one needed help asking, so paused after every word, waiting for his friend to whisper the next word to him). Two of her students have begged her (and I do mean literally on their hands and knees) not to bring them to the Osztifonok/confiscate their cell phone. One student resorted to throwing himself on the floor in the middle of the hallway during passing time, rolling around and intermittently making Monkey noises. 

This behavior could also be partially attributed to the increased level of chaos that has reigned over our school. One third of the teachers have been out sick, while another healthy chunk are on the school ski trip leaving the rest of us to scramble to replace them. Replacement generally means that both advanced and beginner halves will be together in the same class. Or a German group and an English group will meet together. This means that either two lessons are being taught at the same time, by the same teacher (yes it is as confusing as it sounds), or a lesson which is too difficult for half and too easy for the other half. At the same time we are preparing for a Ball next week, which should include various performances. Due to the illness of the organizer, we only found out today who was definitely preforming. 

There was also another dance last night. It was a Farsang party for the dormitory students. The No was invited, after participating in a passing-time dance party with the 11d girls. Not really knowing what to expect, the No tentatively approached the school at 5:30. She met with Zoltan (12d's Osztifonok) on the way, and the pair stumbled through broken Hunglish until they got inside. The No was pulled aside by one of her petite (but considers herself to be a tough guy) girls, and told she must judge. The talent/costume contest was pretty good. They boys showcased their sport skills. And the girls showed of dancing, costuming and acting skills. After which the No was shepherded into a small room and fed things. Then there was awkward dancing, and she made her escape. 

All in all, it has been a strange, if wonderful week. Although it has given me new goals: 

a) Learn to dance

b) Work on Hungarian...so I don't need a constant translator

c) Remember my umbrella at all times

d) REALLY have to work on sniffling giggles....it just encourages them. 

"the basic rule of any investigation, not using special cars" pg. 80

Ordinary. Life has become ordinary, but in the ordinary, we can find beauty. At least that is the idea behind Clare's 3BT. I found her blog back when I lived in Gyula, and have tried to make an effort, especially when stressed or worried, to remember the beautiful and ordinary things in my life. 

Borris still destroys and turns things mysteriously pink (there was nothing red in that load...yet every thing turned out slightly pink...).

My new policy of not giving student's confiscated phones straight to their osztifonoks, but rather giving them a grace period, in which to hand in sentences, has both increased my wall of shame and decreased the number of phones I see. Plus, it is nice being called for by the student porter. 

I only grimace slightly, when I have to substitute a class unannounced. With the number of teachers out either sick, or on ski week, I have made a concerted effort to check the wall of substitutions. However, sometimes, they forget to write them in until after the class is over. And, I just take it for granted that 11d and 9b will be the entire class, rather than divided by ability level. 

Having a student ask to have extra conversation class, and actually talk!

Reading a delightfully silly book.

Nenis.

Learning an extremely cut down version of Dr. Suess' OH THE PLACES YOU'LL GO, in Hungarian. I cut it down, and the other teachers are translating it for me. I did do one whole sentence by myself though (maybe 3/4...I put the first person singular ending on the noun, rather than second person plural). While I quietly recite it to myself, teachers who do not usually talk to me, are willing to help me out with my pronunciation. 

Going on middle of the day adventures to Eger on b-week Tuesdays.

My thinking-pregnant-thoughts at other teachers has apparently worked, and someone else is pregnant! Peter the German teacher says it is about 90% certain that we will get another schedule this year! (This will be number 4, for those of you counting).

Sani fussing over me when I am sick. Zoli (who by the way, is rather intimidating because he is HUGE..even 12d, his Oszti are intimidated), grabbing me on the shoulders and asking "Jol vagy?" when he thinks I am sad/sick. Jeno, who I can give makkos or dios or gries-teszta to. I don't like it, and he patiently teaches me Hungarian at lunch. 

Our brand new official porter calling me into the booth at the end of the day. I gave him a chocolate chip cookie, because a few days ago he gave me weird-marshmallowy things. He called me over to give me a cake recipe, which he then explained slowly in Hungarian and hand gestures. 

Packages. 

"A good man, Edina thought. Question is, what is he good for" p 32

The last two weekends can be summarized in the following words: Margie, Mangaliza and Mariapocs.

The first weekend in February I put on a dress, threw on some make-up, heels and waited to be picked up. Eltelka arrived  and the pair of us drove into the heart of Andrassy ut. We were quite lucky and found a parking place almost directly in front of the Opera house. There we waited to meet with Margie and Hanna, who were also going to the Ballet. Adorned with fabulous paintings and guilt, the interior of the Budapest opera house was almost more amazing than the rendition of Anna Karenina being unfolded on the stage. Hours and coffees later, I stumbled home behind Lauren and Lyla. Saturday I visited, and ran errands with the Csibis. Later I met up with Lauren and Lyla again, and the three of us headed to the second round of Margie's birthday bash. 

Sunday the girls and I met up with Jon and Franny at the Mangaliza festival. Mangalizas are an ancient breed of Hungarian pigs. They are hairy, large, and their meat has the healthy cholesterol. We fought through lines for food, which was delicious. Later I got to pet the babies, as they were driven past in carts. I fulfilled the advertisement's imperative: Pet and Eat.

The next week dragged by, as my bronchial cough developed into a nasty zombie inducing full cold. Feeling better, and armed with a flask of hot tea I boarded a bus for Szolnok at some ridiculous (ie before 7am) hour. This turned out to be the slowest bus in Hungary. Frustrated, flurried and worried messages zipped back and forth between me and Emily. A full twenty odd minutes late, the bus arrived. We got to the train station, bought tickets, jumped aboard the train and we were off.  We were met in Mariapocs' bus station (a little shelter on the side of a highway), by Tara and her school's Director, who drove us the 30-45 minute walk into town. Margie made us pancakes, coffee and a disturbing liver/rice sausage (a gift from a student's grandmother). We sat around, chatted and later prepared ourselves for the ball.

If you ever want to feel like a rock star, and have no musical talent, go to Mariapocs. We walked in, dressed like bombshells, but not to the sparkly nines like some (glitter is an important part of all formal school occasions I've noticed). There we sat at a prime table, littered with alcohol, water and polgacsa all courtesy of the director. We watched adorable children sing, dance and preform. We then gorged ourselves on a fantastic dinner, then danced the night away. Second dinner at midnight, then a raffle, then more dancing, and we were exhausted.

The next morning, we were driven to the train station by the bleary eyed Principal. He had stayed at the party until 6am! The snow had started earlier on Saturday afternoon, and had not stopped when we walked home at 2am. Sani's car got stuck, so bearing our backpacks and purses, Margie, Jamie and I pushed his car out of the snowdrifts. The five of us had to walk along the tracks, as it was the only thing clear of the the foot or so high drifts. Walking along arms out for balance we made it to the platform, to await the slowest train in Hungary. 

In Nyiregyhaza we parted ways. Emily and Jamie caught the first train home. Margie headed to Tescos to pick up supplies, while Tara and I headded into town for coffee. It was lovely to wander through the beautiful streets pock marked with ugly 60s style buildings. All too soon it was 2pm, and Tara's bus left. We made strange faces at one another as we tried to tell stories through the dirty plate glass windows of her bus. She pulled away, and I was left, kicking dirty snow into oily puddles for another hour before my trusted chariot whisked me home. 

On my last bus home, I ran into a pair of students. One in 11d-beginners, and one a 12d German student. We communicated awkwardly. I laughed a little as one of their friends (not someone I teach) got on the bus, and almost sat next to me. Realizing who I was, he jumped back and politely said 'Csokolom Tanarno'. There I was, feeling grubby, with unwashed pigtailed braids, and a slight stiffness from sleeping on some one's floor, having a student treat me with cautious politeness, whilst asking me in the mix of German/English/Hungarian, that has become my daily lexicon, about parties and other teachers. I am glad, and amused that this is my life. I could not ask for much better. 

"With Napoleon Brandy, made in France and not in Minnesota" p30

Teaching stuff:

As a way to encourage students to push themselves out of their normal four sentences in Dialogues, I have created character cards. The trick is to incorporate the character into whatever dialogue we are working on. It forces them to be a little more creative, and think about how they are putting the vocabulary together. These are the characters I have so far:

• A strict teacher
• A Vampire
• An obsessive comic book collector/artist
• An angry waitress
• A parent of 4 young children, who you are looking after during the dialogue
• A university student
• A Pirate
• A Superhero (state your name and superpowers during the dialogue)
• A caffeine addict, you need to drink at least four cups of coffee a day
• Someone vain
• You have a disease where you fall asleep every 5 minutes, but only for 10 seconds at a time
• A presidential candidate (think about campaign promises)

If you have any suggestions for more that would be great! I am currently compiling a list of situation cards as well.  I used these in my more advanced classes, but even then had to explain some of the vocabulary/concepts.

Giving blood....

So while I may have failed to give blood, I did discover an interesting cure for low blood pressure (after a week of crazy students I have no idea why my blood pressure is so low that I can not give blood) and anemia. "Hus (meat-yup knew that one), Vitamins (tick again) es Egeri Bikaver" was what the doctor prescribed.

Neni: hungarian for matchmakers...

My phone rang, and thinking it was Tara I picked up.

"Kezi csokolom, Laci itt" burbled the voice on the other line. Laci? I ransacked my brain. Good Lord...could it be?

Three hours earlier:

Sleepy and comfortably full from lunch (Makkos teszta which I gave to Urban Jeno and soup), I meandered my way home. I had not petted my favorite dog in a while, so I planned on stopping for a good ten minutes.

Walking slowly up, I saw the lady who owned the dog opening the gate to another lady. She saw me stop and hesitate.  "gyere ide" (come here) she waved me in the gate. Thanking her, I promptly cuddled and petted the small waggling creature that lured me to her gate. The two ladies exchanged small talk, and asked my name. Then they called "gyere ide" and waved me inside. I was struck for a moment. It is a big deal to be invited into some one's house, and here were two strangers waving me in.

Inside we ate baked apples, and shared some small talk. Mostly the little old ladies chatted, and I nodded and smiled. My Hungarian is largely non-existent, so I smile a lot. We discussed grand kids, and one of the ladies, who will visit her daughter in Canada this summer, asked about help with English. "Absolutely" I said. So I gave the ladies my phone number. We also discussed one of the lady's 29 year old son. Now I should have been suspicious when they asked about my boyfriend...and my weekend plans. I told them about going to Budapest, and then to Mariapocs. I tried to explain that there was going to be a ball. However, I think I may have made a mistake, as the ladies started saying "Laci go Mariapocs" Confusion and smiling took over. 

It was time to leave, and the lady who was visiting also got ready to walk home. We walked out together, and conversed in smiles (me) and rapid-fire Hungarian. She then invited me in. I demurred, but followed her in. She has an amazing house, which she showed me. Then, handing me a slip of paper with Laci (her son)'s phone number, we walked out. 

I walked home, dazed but happy having met two new Hungarians.

So three hours later I was surprised when Laci called me. Our conversation ran something like this:

"Hello I am Laci, my mother told me to call you"

"Oh, ummm Hello. I am Briggi"

"Do you know why my mother asked me to call you?" 

"Umm...not really. Maybe because I know that many people in Heves"

"My mother is a great organizer. Well shall we be friends?"

"Yes, I think so."

I think I have made a new friend. 

Eger Weekend, taking tea, and one angry English teacher

The No has been lazy about posting. Stuff happens but motivation to post has been gone, along with one of 11b's paper airplanes out of the window.

This weekend, a small CETP brigade came to conquer Eger. On Friday the No got to fuss and make mystery meat into something delicious. She thinks it was pork...but when meat selection consists of going to the butcher with crossed fingers...well it was delicious and probably not

 liver.

Saturday they drank coffee and learnt to play poker, explored, ate Palikinta larger than their stomachs, went down to the Szepasszonyvolge and up the Minaret.

The Minaret, left from the Turkish times represents two of the No's greatest fears. Heights and spiral stairs. As anyone who has travelled with the No knows, it is not uncommon for her to have a panic attack ten steps up. But at about 11am on Saturday morning the No thought to give it a shot. Armed with 200fts and some very supportive friends she made it up. The claustrophobic stairs were worn, and there was no railing  but Lauren and Lyla talked her up. 

Note the look of both Joy for reaching the top (a goal she set at orientation), and blind panic. 

Also look at the relief of being back on the ground!

Forralt bor, pizzas and additions to the drama wall later, the No's guests scattered and she was left alone in her flat. Picking up her pile of mending, she was working her way through it when the doorbell rang. It was Maria, her upstairs neighbour. Maria motioned for the No to lock her door and follow. Upstairs the little old Nenyi thrust first tea and cakes on a tray, then the No on her couch/bed. The No sat there, curious as to what was going on. Then Maria turned on the music. In rapid fire Hungarian, she explained it was the Csango (a group of Hungarians, who live in Transylvania and speak an OLD dialect of Hungarian) Himnusz (anthem?). Then they listened to a hard rock version of the Sekley Himnusz, then some romantic tenors. As the No wondered how she would make her escape, Maria suddenly stopped the music and pulled out a jacket. She fitted it to the No and then zipped it shut (this was the second jacket the No had received from a little old lady in her flat complex this week...) and with that tea was over.

This week in teaching:

Using Character cards is a good way to challenge the students to get away from the same four lines in their dialogues.

11b: One of the Students surreptitiously took photos of his teacher throughout the lesson. The No saw the cell phone and saw the photos. Going to delete it, she found the other 10. He was assigned to write "I will not use Attila's cell phone to take photos of my English teacher, because it is creepy and wrong" one hundred times before 2pm. 

12d: Have taken to calling the No tanar Nenyi. She has decided that while it is cute from a seventh grader, it is not cute from a 12th grader.

7a: We are going to create our own comics. Joe has become Super-Joe and his archenemies is Luggage-head, who is evil because he has a headache. These were the examples I put on the board for the students. I look forward to their creations.

CETP culture shock bingo (finally)

This is a short list complied of all the strange little moments, which have become quite ordinary parts of our lives. Collected over multiple weekends, with multiple CETP-ers, this list represents things that originally surprised/shocked/delighted us about Hungary. 

Directions: 

1. Place the following items into a grid.
   
2. When you have completed an item, fill in the grid square.
3. When you have completely filled out the grid, congratulations you have acclimatized to CETP culture shock.
   

Here is the list, if you have any suggestions/additions to the list, please feel free to comment below.

1. Drink a Boroscola
   
2. See a student drink
   
3. Get scolded for sitting on something cold
   
4. See a faux-hawk mullet
   
5. If single, have a Hungarian neni or bacsi try to set you up
   
6. See a castle outside Budapest
   
7. Get lost on Public transport
   
8. Sleep in a flat with more people than sleeping space
   
9. Eat fornetti/princess/polgacsa
   
10. Catch yourself using the stupid American excuse
    
11. Feel morally obligated to bring sandwiches on public transport
    
12. Visit a town/village that has vowel sounds that do not appear in English
    
13. Have a conversation in Hungarian
    
14. Pretend you do not speak English
    
15. Buy mustard/mayonnaise in toothpaste tubes
    
16. Palinka
    
17. Shamelessly make out on Public Transport
    
18. See a free-range chicken
    
19. See a shirt/jewelry with pre-trianon Hungary on it
    
20. Have someone thank you for being here
    
21. Get lost on Public transport
    
22. Be greeted with Csokolom
    
23. Watch someone consume more than 6 sandwiches a day
    
24. Buy clothing with incorrect English on it
    
25. Be mistaken for a Hungarian by a Hungarian
26. Be smiled at in the street by a Hungarian stranger
27. Be quizzed about your love life by your students
28. Be called Neni or Bacsi
29. Get recognized on public transport...extra points if it is by the driver/Kontroll
30. Be delayed by livestock
31. Gyula
32. Light your oven without burning yourselves
33. Be mistaken for a a Student
34. Eat Pizza with peas/corn/sour cream
35. Buy wine for less than 100 ft

A short and unsatisfying answer to repetitive questions.

A number of other CETPers on facebook have jumped on the bandwagon, and completed a meme of 25 random facts about themselves. At least two of them put down almost the same thing. This life, in Hungary is probably the most lonely experience in our lives, but also the most rewarding. 

It is true. We are constantly questioned, by family, friends and acquaintances, about why we choose this life. Why are you here, why did you come back? Are you avoiding real life?  This question still rolls around in my mind, since Sara's friend first asked me it. To this, I still have no better answer than I ever did. 

 

This is how I roll...

With one of my private students, we came across the term "this is how I roll." Which made me think of exactly how I roll as a teacher at EJK/G.

Today in first period only two girls showed up. I was confused, because no one told me that there would be a university presentation. Later another teacher spent 45 min looking for her class because no one told her either...yeah that is how we roll.

Second period was 9d. Already my largest and one of my most challenging classes, it was crashed by the other half of the homeroom class. They barged in yelling "Nincs tanar, Not the teacher" and sat down in my class. After just a moment's pause I gave directions to the German students (the class crashers) in German. This stunned most of my class into silence, because they did not know I spoke any other languages. Then spent the rest of the lesson shifting between being a Miss, a Tanarno and a Frau. A semi-bilingual teacher in a supposedly trilingual classroom with practically monolingual students...yeah that is how I roll.

Last period I spent 15 minutes with my class searching for an empty room. Having been told I was not in the classroom I have been using since the beginning of this schedule and all others on the first and second floors of both wings were being used. One third of the class was spent looking for a place to have class...yeah that is how we roll.

Three beautiful things about Thursday

Mwah ha ha Marathon blogging week. Maybe it is the new year, maybe it is my new cheerful mood, but every day I discover or experience something I want to share.

1) Being walked to school by a man (aged somewhere between 75-80), who I met when he congratulated me on not slipping on the skating rink that used to be a pavement. We conversed, somewhat stiltedly but even then we were halfway there before the conversation got into words I did not understand.

2) Being able to print 11d's test, and laughing with the photocopying secretary at my bad stick figure drawing.

3) Talking to friends on skype about nothing in particular


Oh, and finding out that another teacher is pregnant. This is, however bittersweet because it means a new schedule just as I was adjusting to the last change in schedule. Hopefully I will not have any new classes....please.

Evil-alternate universe Wednesday

SQUAAAAAALK

that is a tamed down estimation of the noise I made today when one of my 11d K girls snuck up behind me while I was petting a dog and tweaked my waist. She scared the heck out of me. I turned around, took out my earbuds blaring Mamma mia and heard the majority of the class laughing their asses off. I crinkled my eyes and said "not nice". The perpetrator, who is about 5'1'' and considers herself a tough guy, made the peace symbol and asked "we peace?" I nodded and was surrounded by 11d students walking towards their buses. Adam and some of my advanced girls offered me cigarettes, and others told me "Miss tudsz Magyarul" while others asked about my death metal preferences. I laughed, but secretly wished that they would speak this much English in class.

In 7a we are working on a flat stanley, because it practices letter writing. Going around to each group I asked what was the most important things we should include in the letter. We are idiots/We did bad things or some variation came up in every group. Confused by what my little angelic seventh graders could have done, they told me. "We poured water all over outside" (they are talking about the third story balcony), "so we slide. We are in trouble. They" (the Maintenance men) "screwed the door shut. Then we broke a window and broke the doors on the cupboards" I was flabbergasted.

In 12b, the student I saw at Unkium not only spoke in whole sentences, but lead part of the conversation.

What was going on today?

Hétfő, Hétfő...so good to me

I love mondays.

This is probably the strangest statement that I have ever uttered/wrote, but nonetheless true. I love Mondays. B-week mondays to be precise. Two classes, that end early and give me time to catch up on the dreaded Naplő, but enough time to wander. Today I chatted with Bea, another teacher, went to T-mobile to fix my phone (I was locked out for a horrifying 24 hours....I am sadly co-dependent), check out our library, hit Profi and still get home in plenty of time for my private lesson.

Lessons with Kitti are my favorite part of Mondays. She is a Piano teacher who lives in my building. We chat about babies (her grandchildren and my fake niece), and work through the book. Today we played a game that practices large numbers, discussed quince and the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Every week she brings me something, because she feels that I do not charge her enough for lessons. One week it was home-made apple stuffed pancakes, another week a CD, a necklace, last week home made quince preserves, and this week candy. Better than any treat she pulls out of her purse, I feel like I am helping her learn, which is the best feeling any teacher can have.

Hevesi Mexi-Buli: I heart people

The most difficult thing about living in a country where you can not really speak the language is isolation. There are many different ways of dealing with this, and one is weekend get togethers.

The No had been missing MN tex-mex (differentiated from normal americanized mexican food, by being made by people who feel ketchup is a tad spicy) for the five months that she lived in Heves. Also, she needed an excuse to draw people into her awesome flat. The obvious answer: Mexi Buli.

Armed with tequila and a pot full of home-made salsa, the No welcomed the weekend posse.


Here is Franny and I sporting our mustaches

We ate burritos, drank margaritas, chatted, laughed and built the Soap opera wall. The cooking/prep work was made difficult by my lack of sufficient counter space (but as I used to have none at all, I can not complain too much. Thanks Mom, Dad, Viki and Ron for your reorganization skills/muscles) and kitchen utensils/ containers. Luckily Jamie brought a large frying pan, and Hanna and I decided that a large plastic tub was the perfect sub for a margarita jug. It was a blast. Then we went to the red shuttered Kocsma, where we played cso-cso and danced. My students, for most part, avoided eye contact with their up-tight American teacher. The main exceptions were a couple of 9b students (shame shame 14 year olds), an 11d student (who promptly made out with his girlfriend), and the 12b student who rarely talks.

All in all, a fabulous start to the year.

We are working...we aren't working....

Jet-lagged and bleary-eyed the No showed up to school on Monday morning. Many of the other teachers looked at her surprised, because despite the No's assurances, they had not been sure if she would return to school. The No glanced up at the board that listed substitutions and general announcements. There she saw something about Szombaton (Saturday), but ignored it. She had been planning a Mexican/Hungarian fiesta for over a month. She had checked which Saturdays they would be working, sent out invitations and bought supplies at home.
So on Tuesday, when one of the teachers translated the message on the board to mean that we would be working on Saturday, the No was both disappointed and peeved. Flurried messages over facebook and cell phone assured that while there would be some cancellations, the Mexican party would continue. So, having rearranged her schedule the No was set. But the No forgot, she lives/teaches in Hungary. So, while she was surprised on Thursday by the news that Saturday school was moved from this weekend to sometime in March, she shouldn’t have been. The government moved the date of the extra working day, because of the gas crisis in Europe. In summary, the gas from Russia to Europe has been cut off due to diplomatic problems. This means that Hungary has to tighten its gas-using belt, i.e. gas in public factories has been cut off, and in Schools and universities, it has been cut down. Our second floor is cold enough that the students wear jackets and scarves during class. This means that in order to save gas, we do not have school on Saturday.

Catch up: Parents, Ribbon Ball and Christmas Break

I have been on the go ever since Thanksgiving. The week after Thanksgiving my parents and their friends came to visit, we had our ribbon ball, and I went home for two weeks. As a photo is worth a thousand words, I will try to insert a few photos to summarize a couple photos instead of rambling re-tellings.

Our Girl

Later I want to write a long post that combines my parent's visit to Hungary and our ribbon ball, but first I wanted to quickly write about Heves.

In of itself, it is not the most beautiful town in Hungary, nor is there lots to do. It has made the transition from Gyula, which is beautiful and active, really difficult. Some days I have struggled to find great things about Heves, and inevitably my mind wanders back to the bonfire on my name-day.

"People don't seem to like Heves because it is a great little city, but they like it because of the people" she said.

And this is entirely true. I really like the people here. Last week Eta, invited my parents to a wine tasting and then to her house. Her boundless joy and positive energy is wonderful. Judith and I communicate in English/german/hungarian, as we chat and she helps me with any questions I have. David, who runs the digital whiteboard room, occasionally plays electronic scrabble with me. Two of my private students tell me all the news I miss out on, such as the strike in Ferihegy. And Kitti and the rest of my neighbors. I give private lessons to Kitti from upstairs, because she wants to be able to improve her english for when she visits her daughter and grandchildren in England. We usually chat a little, and work through the book. She tells me about concerts, like the jazz concert that are coming to Heves, and sometimes brings me little cakes or sweets. Last night, she asked when I would be free to have dinner with the ladies in the building. She said that one of the neighbors had been asking about my plans, and if Kitti had seen "our girl"

And that summarizes it, our girl. The feeling of being included into the community. It is what makes Heves beautiful.

I've got good news and bad news...

This is the sentence with which I have been beginning all of my classes. This week 18 of my 22 classes were supposed to have a test, which due to my inability to print their tests, have been either outright canceled or pushed back to January. So instead we have been playing games and having discussion days. This has lead to slightly more mayhem than usual, but only slightly.
However the relaxed atmosphere of my classes has thrown the differing levels of respect into sharp relief.

My kids ask, and say things to me that I would have been too mortified to ask any of my teachers. For example, I now know that not imagining my expanding pudge, because my 9b asked if I was pregnant today. And one of my shy 12B students, who is actually really good in English, caught up with me on my way home, and asked me how old I am, if I have a boyfriend, and will I go to the ribbon ceremony on Friday. Wictor, who got extra homework for cussing in class, tried to wheedle it down as I passed him on my way home.

On the other hand, they are also extremely old-fashioned in their respect. They call out greetings, both in English if they can, and Csokolom (I kiss your hand), if they can not. At lunch, teachers usually cut the line, which I feel a little guilty about. Today one of my girl’s waited for me to get my cutlery and then motioned me before her. Another student Gabor, chased me down to hand me a slip of paper that had dropped out of my pocket. Telling one of my classes that I was going home for christmas, a look of panic came over their faces and one asked "when are you coming back?" After I assured them that I would be back in January, they looked relieved, and said "good."

Krampus

In Hungary not only does Santa Clause bring sweets on the 6th of December, but also his helpers are not the cute elves that the animated Christmas movies from the 50s have made iconic. Instead he is helped by the Krampus. This is, for all the No could understand little devils. They carry switches and give them to bad boys and girls.
In 10b, three of the No's most popular girls walked in on Friday wearing homemade devil horns. The No's curiosity caused her to throw over the lesson plan, cancel their test the following week, and spend the rest of the hour listening to her kids explain Krampus. They giggled a little at the concept that their teacher did not understand, and their explanations, which all 17 kids tried to do at once, were punctuated with drawing on the board, and the ever-present cries of Mit Csinalni? (What is going on?)
On Saturday evening I met a former colleague of my Father's for dinner, and his wife explained that Krampus in Austria was even more intense. That Santa and krampus came house to house, and Santa judged the child. The good children got toys and sweets, and the bad ones were put into a basket by the krampus and carted off. Added to this are the terrifying costumes of the Krampus, and I am glad that my childhood saw Santa’s helpers as little guys in pointed hats, who occasionally just wanted to be dentists.