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. 

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.

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?

No, I am not a late-enrolling Train student: Adventures in Szombathely

The bus ride back to Budapest was full of the chatter of future plans. I happily dozed through last minute planning, as I had already arranged a visit to an old university buddy now teaching in rural Austria. So decamping from the bus, Lauren, Lyla and I smsed the guys, to arrange a last minute dinner party.

Gergo and Andy showed up, and the five of us ate Lauren and Lyla’s amazing dinner until late in the evening. So when it came time to wake up, I decided to take the later train I had found, instead of an earlier one. This turned out to be a mistake.

I arrived at Keleti and was immediately panic set in. There were ticket inspectors all over, and I had forgotten where to buy international tickets. Dazed, sleepy and panicky I bought a ticket to Jennersdorf where I would have to catch a bus to the village. I found the train to Szombathely, hopped aboard, found a seat and settled in.

I got a little suspicious when we passed Tata, and asked the girl sitting across from me if the train was going to Szombathely. She said it was, so I settled down. A few hours passed, and I looked at my diary with the connections written in it. I realized that I was on the wrong train; I had not taken the correct train from Keleti, and would miss my connection to Jennersdorf. In a panic I called Emily and Jamie. Between the two of them they broke the bad news, I would miss the last bus to the village by 10 minutes. So I decided to spend the night in Szombathely, explore a bit, and then head on to Austria. I dialed my friend’s number and got a strange garbled message. So I decided to remove two of the numbers and try again. This time the call went through, but was answered not by my friend, but rather by a harassed sounding Austrian woman. Mostly harassed because I tried twice more, and each time she sounded crankier.

So I walked into the Tourinform at the spacious and modern train station, where I was informed that it was unlikely that I would be able to find a hostel, because school was in session, but I should try number 23 in the catalogue. Hoping against hope I called. They had a free bed, but I would have to get there within half an hour. So armed with a map, I fought my way through the twists and turns of medieval street planning, and found it.

It wasn’t until I walked in that I realized that the Hostel was actually the MAV dorms. The courtyard had miniature train tracks and MAV paraphernalia. The porter was confused at first as I was obviously not a train-driving student. Later one of the secretaries came in, rapid fire Hungarian and several stamped papers later, and he was ebullient. Speaking slowly, clearly and slightly louder than normal, as if to someone hard of hearing, he walked me to the stairs and handed me the key to my room.

Later I explored the city, and crashed.