Bookends

I feel alternatively that I have just arrived, hot and sweaty into Ferihegy and that I have been here forever. 

Things are both entirely similar and entirely different from late August and early September.

My kids are returning to the energetic state of chaos that surrounds new beginnings and endings. They still ask me if I am married, am I really 88, and other varied personal questions. Unlike in September I am no longer shocked by their curiosity.

In late May we went to another Wine festival in Etyek. Again Lauren, Lyla and I piled into the ancient yellow volan bus to trek the 45 minute journey. This time they did not meet me at the Bus station, and this time we knew where to go.  

My music and Youtube education has grown thanks to Franny. I am learning new ideas about food from Jon. I am learning about physical presentation from Lauren and Lyla. I am learning Hungarian from Sani and Jeno. I am learning about fishing and wine from Tamas. I am learning patience and joy from my kids. I am learning to play Hungarian cards from 11b. I am learning about sewing, baking, traveling, dancing and BLISS in all its forms from the people around me. 

I love being a teacher, because it means I never have to stop learning and pursuing knowledge. 

I just hope I have taught my students something as well.

"Tomorrow there will be an execution"

Is what one of my teachers told me, as I looked around at people tacking colourful banners around the school. My confused face must have given it away, because he looked at me strangely as I asked "Exhibition?" 

I have had a delightful week of company. First Tara in Mariapocs then later a friend from Australia I had not seen in years. 

Tara and I accompanied the teachers on a wine "tasting" in a small town just over an hour away from Heves. On the way there we made a pit-stop to drink wine, at some one's house...just because, and when we got to Nagyrede, it started with obligatory shots of Palinka. The night was spent talking to a teacher who has not spoken a word to me in the last 9 months that I have lived here, listening to the Bandis sing songs, nattering in Hunglish, eating amazing food, and dancing to Hungarian jazz under the stars.

Judit, Tara and I popped into my favorite flower shop, where the man behind the counter gave us free yellow roses each "for our birthdays"

There was a fashion show in school, including dancing Snow white and the seven dwarfs. 

Tara, Jamie, Jeb and I chilled in Gyula for two days. I ran into an acquaintance, whom I have not seen in two years, but still remembered who I was (despite no longer having black hair). Odd, and nice. 

I saw a play in Eger with the Cops. It involved Alien ghosts, a fold out book, a gangster, a robot, a bomb, an overenthusiastic cop, a mean caretaker, plum dumplings, and a girl in a clown suit called Hedgehog (sunni)... AND it was a musical.

I gave someone a hair cut. It turned out cute. 

One of my private 11b students taught me how to play Hungarian cards. When the rest of the class came in, more people joined, and I ended up skipping lunch to play cards with my students.

The Folk Art museum ladies recognize me, as I have now been there at least 5 times (taking the tour). Twice in the last week. Although never having taken the tour in English, I have been the translator almost all of those times, even though my Hungarian is pretty bad and I only figured out the word for linen on the third time around. 

Locsolkodás, érettségi, and Serenade

The Thursday after spring break the No walked into 11d's classroom, to be greeted with a student jumping out of the sink closet and spritzing her with strong perfume. Shock, Surprise and Stink assailed all of her senses, forcing her to take a moment to re-group. It proves that even two days after locsolkodás, American teachers are not safe from fertility traditions.

The last few weeks the staff have been frantically prepping the 12th grade
students for their Maturity exams. This includes giving intense practice exams,
which they mostly failed. They have, however, led to some new favorite
Hunglish student-isms.

One of the Hungarian graduation traditions (unlike in the US,
graduation activities extend over at least a week) is called Serenade. It is exactly
what it sounds like. Students walk from teacher's house to teacher's house and sing
them songs. Both 12a and 12b are singing to me. The No is excited to see this
tradition up close, but would be more excited if it did not mean staying up
until after 2am. 12b is seranading her at 1am-ish.

Here is a quick guide to some important Hungarian terms for this post.

Locsolkodás: Easter Minda sprinkling, boys dash/sprinkle girls with water/perfume in exchange for money, eggs and palinka.

érettségi: Hungarian Maturity exam, think of a University entrance exam.
This is taken in the beginning of May for 12th grade, but can be taken earlier.

Seranade: Part of the Hungarian graduation traditions.

Nagyszerű helyekre elmenni voltam!

12 days and 7 cities later, I am home. I started in Szeged, then home for Student Days, then off on Spring break adventures in Brataslava, Brno, Budapest, Kalocsa and Holloko. While each one deserves its own post to properly encapsulate the insane adventures, instead I will give a short (well...I will try) blurb and photos.

Part One:

Perfect weather welcomed me to Hungary's sun city, Szeged. There I chilled with Jon and Franny. We ate AMAZING food, check it out on Jon's blog (especially the duck comfit...yeah I ate that, be envious!) We engaged in my favorite activities: walking around pretty places, enjoying the sunshine, making daisy chains and ATCs, Swinging on swings in a park, and hitting up a great museum. We made each other laugh and groan with silly Hunglish phrases all weekend long! (Oh for Bisztos!) Then on my way home, I met up with one of my crazy eighth graders, who found a better way to Heves than the one I was going. We were waiting at the Gyongyos bus stop, when another kid (not one of mine), asked Viktor if we were related. Viktor, who is short and dark, gave the new kid a funny look and told him I was the anyanelvi tanar. The new kid (a senior at one of the Gyongyos schools) spent the whole bus ride home arguing that I could not be 25. 

                                                                      Franny and I swinging

                           

                                                           Working at the Pick Salami factory     

                                                                     

                                                                    Jon and Franny 

                                                            Under the alter in Szeged

Part Two:

Exhausted I rolled into school to be greeted with Chaos. While Chaos is actually fairly normal, this was student directed chaos. At EJ we have 'Student days' where various classes compete against one another to become Student Principals for the day. They elicit votes by running various programs, Karaoke, Football, cooking and dance competitions, interrupting classes and creating a general ruckus.  I checked out the archery on the first day. Some one's dad brought traditional Hungarian re-curved bows and real arrows, which he gave everyone a chance to fire. The next day I hung around the cooking competition, mostly to enjoy the day and for the entertainment of culture shock. Everyone from seventh grade on up were lighting fires in random places in the grass. Then cooking dishes in cauldrons, and for the older students drinking wine, on campus. All with minimal adult supervision. I can now tell everyone that my kids are all wonderful outside cooks! The next day, I judged a dog competition, watched break dancing, a dancing competition, meandered through classrooms and was collected by a non-English speaking student for the scavenger hunt. As he dragged me across campus, he would raise my wrist and mock other students passing. I was met at the end of campus with one of my students holding a live goose. Too soon it was time to run for my bus, and spring break had officially begun.

                                         I visited 10b and tried on riot gear...hmmm maybe I do want it for class!

                                                          9d's entry in the cooking competition
                                                         Preping for the competition
                                                Eta and Kate supporting different classes

                                                        Kids watching teachers singing

More posts later.

Babysitting: 12B style

As the date of their impending freedom approaches, 12b's apathy towards the English language grows, and this results in both frustration and hilarity for their Anyanelvi teacher (the No). 

One poignant example is today's class. The assignment in the Erettsegi (Hungarian maturity exam, much like the HSC in N.S.W., The Abitur in Germany or the Matura in Austria) book was to explain to the examiner why the student would be a good babysitter. They had to cover such points like:

• Do you have any younger brothers or sisters?
• What would you do to entertain the child? 
• What would you give the child to eat/drink?
• What would you do in case of an emergency (ex. Crying)?
  

The No divided the class (about half of them were 'mysteriously' missing) into two teams. The boys opted to stay together, and so did the girls. Fluttering between them, the No tried to spur her students on to do the exercise, she received only blank looks and muttering in Hungarian. In the end, she sat with each group and asked them their responses. The girls gave fairly normal responses: Yes, I have helped look after children. We would give them fruit and vegetables. We would play ball and run with them, and in case of emergencies, we would sing to them, hug them or take them to the Hospital.

The boys, however gave a slightly different response. One of the boys kept repeating that he hated small children, and finally assisted his group (himself, one other official student, and one student who comes although he has already taken his language exam (he just sits in the back and listens to music)) with the following responses:

• We would feed the children fruit, vegetable and beer milkshakes
• We would take the kids to the pub and a metallica concert (lifted on shoulders so not to get squished)
• In case of emergency we would take them to the hospital (yes, even if the kid is just crying). 

"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.

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.

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."

Quiet Weekends

Alone for the weekend, I went to a Jazz concert then to the Student disco on Friday night.
As I watched students run the DJ booth, and marveled the dancing. I chatted with the teachers chaperoning the dance, and went home. Saturday was the first of the working Saturdays. Experience had shown me that students are extra squirrelly on Saturdays, so for the most part we had Halloween parties and listened to the Monster Mash. One of my students in 11 a offered me gerbils which she had brought to school in jam jars, and provided distraction during the Halloween party. I declined, and spent the evening visiting another teacher and her daughter in a neighboring village.

The sad lament of Finom Oscar

All that was left was a bloody sploge, some feathers, and a couple of choice inedible organs. This was all that was left of Finom Oscar on Monday morning. The No was devastated, now who would she chase down the streets of Heves, his ruddy orange feathers gleaming as he ran? Who now would protect her from rabid bugs on her way to school? And when she had had a bad day, who would she yell “you will be soo tasty one day” to? Only a month into life in Heves, and Finom Oscar was by far her favorite chicken.
But the gruesome death of her favorite chicken was only the beginning of an extraordinarily strange week.
During the week she began to put two and two (hopefully incorrectly), and is vaguely uncomfortable with the 11-D police class. Training to be policemen, the class is dominated by boys, boys who stare at their American teacher. Not the ‘I’m bored, stop speaking to me in this language I don’t understand’ stare that she gets from most of her classes, but a new and disconcerting one. They smile, and stare while they smile. L from BP suggested that the No should report them to their Homeroom teacher. However, the No has nothing concrete to report, no evidence that they tried to lift her skirt or pin something on her, just that they stare at her. This is not a reportable offence, because in Hungary it is not an offence at all. Men stare at women all the time. In fact, the No catches Attila and whom she thinks is the 11D homeroom teacher Zolika staring at her all the time. Perhaps they are just being friendly, like when one of the quieter and dignified 11 D students (who never smiles), popped into a classroom, gave the No a giant goofy grin and waved then ran out again.

They also may just like their American teacher because a few weeks back she did not bail out on the Stork day. Storks bring new things, so in Hungary they half welcome and half haze incoming ninth (and in our school seventh) grade students on the stork day. It involves public acts of humiliation and is run by older grades. Our school does things a little differently; they also haze the new teachers. Surrounded by a crush of students and some other teachers, the No was swept towards the gym. However she was stopped by a number of her 11D students, who were in charge, and decorated with eyeliner on her arms. Suitably resembling an artist’s canvas, she walked into the packed Gym, and was informed that she would be singing a solo of Madonna’s version of American Pie. Not knowing the lyrics, the No instead gave a slam poetry style recitation of ring around the roses. The students did not get off so lightly, and ran egg relays, swore oaths while standing on one leg, and had to pack into ‘nests’ that were so small that they had to hoist the lightest student on their shoulders just to fit. Giggles and smiles dispensed with, the Stork celebration was abruptly over and everyone went home.

The rest of the week the No awkwardly dealt with weeping students in two classes. Her pin-curled hair trying to eat anything not moving fast enough, watching Chicago in three of her classes, made applesauce out of a giganormous box of apples another teacher gave her, gobbling sweets from a package one of her awesome cousins sent, and added to the lies about her imaginary boyfriend/husband/roommate/buddy/mortal enemy Joe.