Summer

So, summer drags on. Not that it's a drag at all; I'm sincerely enjoying every single moment of doing nothing, it just doesn't make for very good blogging.

Here's what has happened so far:

- School finished. There was érettségi. I've managed to almost successfully forget most of it, and that's the way I want to keep it.

- Many people (and by people I mean people of the American, CEPT-teachers variety) went home. Some to visit, some for good. Depression was mitigated by the loads of books and food they left. Mmmm, English books...

- so for about a week and a half, I read a lot. Like, one book a day. Until I had finished off all the new English books. Even the romance novels. (By the way, girls who were at Hevesi Buli - I finished Brigi's weird vampire-alien book and it was... surprisingly tolerable. A minimum of sappyness, an overload of historical details, characters so stereotypical it was as good as parody, and an almost-believable plot. I'll pass it on if anyone else is interested)

- I spent a lot of time - way too much, really - working on my new Residence Permit. I still don't have it. And the old one expired a week ago. Which means I'm stuck in Hungary until the new one arrives, whenever that may be.

- We traveled to Mátra with the family: Tomi, Atti, and Gabi, and respective girlfriends myself, Andi, and Viola. We stayed in a fantastic pension, barbeque'd, walked in the forest, got lost in the forest, etc. The boys all brought their guitars and, ahem, "jammed." I brought a book, Viola played on her mobile phone, Andi looked bored and sighed a lot. Yay, family vacation.



- And, like every summer, we've been out several times at the garden cooking. This time it was gulyás:

my one single, lonely, politics post

I'm so thoroughly sick of hearing about American politics that yesterday when Whineydefensive Máté asked "Why do we have to learn this stuff? It doesn't matter for us..." I would cheerfully have smacked him upside the head with our textbook and said, "Bam, head wound! Guess it matters for you now, huh?" But instead, I was the picture of restraint, laughed when the other students answered him, "We have to learn it because it's on the final exam," and patiently did my spiel about why I'm forcing American Civilization down their throats (we're a superpower, our decisions affect the world, blah blah blah).

Anyway, what did I want to write about? Right... so, sick of politics. Congrats, Mr. Peach, we all know you're going to win, sincere condolences about your grandma. Now, what caught my attention this morning: I was reading CNN.com's Election Trivia (because trivia is way more interesting than actual facts) and this one really made me stop and think:

"This is the first election in 24 years without a Bush or a Clinton heading a major party's presidential ticket."

When I first read it, it struck me because, 24 years, that's almost my age! A Bush or Clinton has been in the White House for all of my life? Yup. Beginning with George H.W. as VP, and a straight line through today. Weird.

Ok, great political insights over. Return to normal life in 3... 2... 1...

Transylvania, take # I-don't-even-know

Thanks for the prodding, Jem. Your comment about Erdély was actually right on target... On Sunday we arrived back in Hungary from the annual CETP Transylvania trip. This is the 5th (?) time I've gone there, including some Hajni-led trips and some others - namely, last summer's trip with Petra and Csomanok, which was laughably led by me.



The above two pictures are from this year, us after surviving the "one-hour hike" in Békás Canyon.


And, for nostalgia's sake, here's my "first generation" CETP family (missing are Janos and Chad, who were down with a case of Ceausescu's Revenge, although Janos is represented by that scarf Jeremy is rakishly sporting).

I'm back in Szolnok. Tomorrow I'm off to Pest for new teachers' orientation; back in 10 days. Ireland was interesting, fun, expensive, cold, rainy. Pictures to follow whenever I have any free time... so, think mid-September.

3 New Things

1. new home

I did not sleep last night. It may have been stress-related. After getting in bed at about 8:30 and watching several hours of South Park, I got up again, walked around, read online. I got back in bed around 2. Fell asleep around 3. Dreamt about drug dealers and underage gang rape (that should get me some interesting hits from google). Woke up at 4:30, dozed off and on (mostly off, if that means the awake part) until 7:00 when Tomi's alarm went off. Yay.

We went to check out the new flat at 8. Well. It's.... not horrible. Actually, for one person it would be great; it's the problem of fitting in two people and all their junk and baggage that has me a bit stressed. Details about the new place to follow.

2. new passport parts

In the afternoon I ran (trained) up to Pest to get to the Embassy for more passport pages because that whole thing about no longer stamping passports within the EU? Not true. So my passport is completely full; in October when I last escaped and reentered this country the border guard almost gave herself (and me) a heart attack because she had to stamp on the next-to-last-page. So I finally got my act together (we're going to Dublin on Sunday and I don't want to be thrown in jail, ahem gaol...) and had an amazingly pleasant, punctual, efficient time at my embassy. God bless people who understand time-management.

2.5 bonus new thing: a re-newed disdain for the BKV - this ticket checking thing on the metros has gotten completely out of hand. As I was running to catch my train, I got stopped at the top of the escalator twice! within 10 meters. By men. on. the. same. team! BKVman#1 pulled me over at the very top (I can usually just slip by, but I guess today I had the American Embassy scent on me still) and started harassing me with questions: Where did you get on? How long ago was it? Where did you buy this ticket? I managed to answer to his satisfaction, which he indicated by ripping my ticket in half. I continued on my way until, at the end of the BKV gauntlet, BKVman#2 pulled me aside, saw my ripped-in-half ticket, and proceeded to throw a hissy fit about it. At a complete loss for words, understanding or time, I managed to blurt out "No, no! It was YOUR colleague who did it!" I may have actually stamped my foot in anger. Also, I totally used the informal "te" instead of the polite "maga" or "ön". In any case, he looked shocked and motioned me on.

3. new amcsik!

Some of the soon-to-be-CETP-ers found me on facebook, as well as this blog. The ones I've talked to seem like they'll be a normal-in-the-good-way, fun group. Welcome, newbies! Never fear, despite what I write here, it really is a lovely country.

Hat nap amerikában

So it’s Friday, and in less than 12 hours I’ll be boarding a plane, which will take me to a plane which will take me to another plane, which will take me back to Hungary. After six days back here, these are the things I still haven’t gotten comfortable with:

- Being the thinnest person in the room/store/area. Really, it was flattering at first, but it’s becoming disturbing.

- Waking up at 6 or 4 or 2 am, to a pitch black sky, and feeling as refreshed as if I slept til noon.

- Commercials on TV. It’s the same as the fat people everywhere: I don’t see them in Hungary, and they both fascinate and disgust me.

- Is it just my house, or are light-switches and doorknobs much lower in America?

- I never, ever, EVER thought I’d say or even think this but... I miss house slippers. Even in my parent’s fully-carpeted house, I miss my flip-flops and slip-ons.

- Dial-up internet. Seriously, in this day and age.... how can anyone live like this???

- People always smiling at you and asking how you are. It’s creepy. And on the other hand, if I’m in a store and ask something like “Excuse me, can you please tell me where....” they look at me like I’m being sickeningly polite. Have I lost my scale of American manners?

- The crappy radio stations here.

- My family. That’s a whole ’nother post, I guess.

- Everything being in extremes. There’s too much or too little of everything: too many people, too many cars, too much open space, too much consumerism, too much stress, too many things to do, too many people to see, too many things I want. And on the other hand, I have too little time, too little money, and too little patience to deal with it all. And I have no place anymore. In the end, I guess what I find the most upsetting is the lack of control I have on my own life here. Everyone told me it was foolish to come back for just a week, and they were all right, although maybe not in the way they thought: a week here was just enough to upset my life in Szolnok, without giving me any of the benefits of being here.

Twenty-four hours

That’s how long it took, from when we left Szolnok at 3am Saturday morning, to when I arrived at Minneapolis-St Paul Airport at 9pm Saturday night. Random thoughts from along the way:

Friday noon: I just now started packing. What can I bring? I can’t get over the feeling that this is like so many weekend trips, that I’ll just going a couple hours, a couple hundred kilometers away, and I’ll be back on Monday to my normal life.
This is the first time I’ve ever been scared to fly. I mean, scared to die in some horrible accident. Is my life really so great now that I’m scared to lose it? Apparently.

Friday afternoon: Everything in me is pulling me against this trip. I don’t want to travel. I don’t want to be in Minnesota. I don’t want to see my parents. I’m trying like hell, but so far there’s not a single real thing that I’m looking forward other than coming back to Szolnok. The closest thing I’ve got is that it’ll be fun to shop for gifts for people.

Friday evening: Is it strange that in the school today, almost everyone who wished me a good trip ended their wishes with “and come back!”? I’d like the know the story behind that. I mean really, what the hell, who didn’t come back??

Saturday morning, way too early: Standing in the first of many lines, the Budapest customs. I stand in the wrong line for ten minutes before moving to the non-EU passports line. The woman behind me is going crazy with the wait, and repeats “Hát, az hihetetlen” dozens of times, accompanied by repeated trips to the front of the line to harass the poor customs workers.

Saturday, Frankfurt: I’m sitting in a lounge, waiting the three hours until my next flight will be shown on the monitors. There are two flights listed back to Budapest. I wonder how easy it would be to change my ticket. I wonder what would happen to my checked luggage.

Saturday, several hours later but still in Frankfurt: Jebus, I’d forgotten how much security you have to go through on America-bound flights. After being patted down, none too gently, by a surly security guard, at the gate I am questioned within an inch of my life by the American Airlines security. They ask me all the normal questions (who packed your bags, have you accepted any gifts, what electronics are you carrying) plus some bordering on too-personal: where did you spend last night, who was with you, who drove you to the airport and how well do you know him, what nationality... etc. The man questioning me sweetly keeps apologizing for being so personal, but also tells me how it’s happened several times that bombs have been found on board. Gee, how reassuring. All I can think is that after all this trouble, I’m going to be DOUBLE-pissed if this plane goes down.

Still Saturday, and again several hours later, now in Chicago: how is this possible: I’ve gone through security three times, for two international flights, including the American Airlines Super-Security. But boarding a one-hour domestic flight from Chicago to MSP is where they finally confiscate my water bottle, and the first time I’m asked to remove my shoes. The man asking me to take them off uses a voice like, “duh, haven’t you ever flown before?” and I want to snap back with “Look, idiot, I’ve flown farther today that you’ll ever travel in your sad state-bound life, and what the hell makes you think anyone would choose to target this poor excuse for a puddle-jump flight? Get over yourself, you self-important bastard.” Perhaps I’m starting to get a bit testy with jet-lag.
PS - sitting in the waiting room for the Chicago-MSP flight, I am so the skinniest person there. Seriously, I look like a model next to these people. Ha ha ha, sweet.

Yet still Saturday (almost over), finally in Minneapolis/St. Paul: I arrive on time. I recognize my family (good thing Sam’s a head taller than everyone else). We drive home and already I’m slipping back into Minnesota. Still not sure about this. We’ll see.

Summer

That’s it, a boring one-word title and one all-encompassing entry to sum up my activities of the past few months. But every day that I procrastinate blogging again, I get more and more anxious about it, so I’d rather do this half-assed catch-up now and get back on track.

In June, I worked. I mean, in addition to official work the first half of the month, I also worked a week of summer camp (see below); the remaining week was spent packing, moving, and unpacking.

In July, I lazed. The month wasn’t really good for anything else; it was just too hot. My life fell in a wonderfully predictable pattern, a typical day looked something like this: wake up already hot; drink a coffee and take a cold shower; walk around with Petra and shop; meet up with Rita, drink a beer and play cards in the hottest part of midday; go to the Holt Tisza or Tiszapuspoki beach with the girls or Gábor; watch tvlinks, chat, and drink ice water in front of my fan; finally eat something around sunset when it got a few degrees cooler. Evenings I either went out with Tomi or hung out in Petra’s garden with her and Csomanok. It was the best part of summer. I also went to Transylvania and Balaton for a few days each.

In August, I wasn’t at home. First I was in Szombathely for another week of summer camp. Then at Sziget, which was awesome until the last night when I lost my mind, temporarily, and my phone, permanently. We spent a few days recovering in Pest, sleeping in Jeremy’s hallway/loft and mooching his food. August 20th we watched the fireworks from Margit híd - this year they were both spectacular and death-free. The day after, the new generation of CETP teachers started arriving, and Caley and I spent the week orientation-ing them, not that they needed much help; this seems like a pretty levelheaded, intelligent, independent and fun group.

Anyway, after almost a month of travel, I was beyond-words glad at being home in Szolnok. But my working-lazing-traveling summer isn’t quite yet over; I’ve been working in Varga, finishing up paperwork, attending teachers’ meetings, and working on a syllabus for each class. I’ve been traveling, so to speak, back and forth between my current flat and the house across the courtyard, into which I’m in the process of moving (more on that later). And of course I’m lazing, making the most of the last few days and hours before another school year begins.

Goodbye Hello

Someday when I write my book about Hungary, I’m going to call it Goodbye Hello. Just so you know.

So a group of Americans (and a Spaniard, some Hungarians, etc) converged on Szolnok for one last weekend. In some ways it was similar to many other weekends; I could cut and paste what we did from any number of other entries: we lazed around, we drank, we ate lots of food, we wandered around aimlessly, we lay in the sunshine, we played in the water, we slept in piles, we made ATCs (rather, Sara and Bridge and I made them until the boys got fed up with us), we sat in bars, and outside of bars, and we talked.

But it was in the chatting where there was a clear difference to this weekend. Instead of talking about teaching, we talked about home. Instead of planning future weekends, we talked about summer jobs and grad school and flight prices. Instead of comparing lesson plans, we talked about American restaurants and stores.

In the end, it wasn’t a real goodbye anyway; almost everyone who was here I’ll see again, next week or in the summer. Still, it’s such an odd feeling for me now to look around a table and see both the past and the future: one year ago, I was sitting in a restaurant saying goodbye to a group of departing Americans. One year from now, I’ll be in the exact same place, sitting at another table with another group of departing Americans. It’s an unfriendly feeling that they’ll always come and go while I remain a static point.

Anyway, onward to new adventures, namely: moving. How the hell I accumulated so much junk (and heavy junk, lots of books) in less than two years is beyond me. How I’m going to pack it up and move it to the new flat.... sigh.

Peace

The strangest thing happened to me Sunday morning in a bathroom in Balatonfüred. I was sitting there at about 8am, surrounded by a hostel-full of slumbering Americans (and Brits and Aussies, etc). And it suddenly hit me how at peace I was. Everything in my life has just come together:

- although Kassai (my current school) finally let me go officially, within an hour I was offered a position next year at Varga (the super-nice, way prestigious gymnasium). So next year, if all goes to plan, I’ll have a cushy job teaching near-fluent teenagers, full pay, and free flat.

- having finally kicked my two-month stomach flu, I’m completely healthy. Maybe better than I’ve ever been. I’m just glowing with good health.

- for once, I’m completely at peace with all relatives, friends, boyfriends, and colleagues. No drama, no fights, just harmony. Too bad all but one of the Americans are abandoning me.... sniffle.

- I got a bike (inherited from one of those sniffle-inducing leaving Americans)! I’m still way too scared to actually use it on the streets, but... someday.

- Hungarian lessons are going well. I might actually be learning something. In any case, at least I’m thinking about it every day.

- the Balaton weekend was good - much better than I would have thought, given that hanging out with large groups of foreigners in a strange place is my personal idea of hell. There was a minimum of drama and a maximum of hanging around drinking and enjoying the sunshine.

- thanks to Bridget’s curiosity, I’ve gotten back into making ATCs, and having a creative outlet again has made me so much happier and more productive feeling.

- as much as I love my school, I’m accepting moving on. I feel bad about leaving my students because, next year, they likely won’t have a native speaker, but I’ve already got plans to offer them cheap private lessons or some sort of English club.

- not to mention, the majority of the kids are gratifyingly disappointed with my leaving. Today, one class stayed 10 minutes extra just to hang out.

Anyway, that’s it... coming up roses. And in the future, look for more frequent updates, since I’m about to embark on a whole new teaching adventure, both over the summer and in the fall, AND on a whole new adventure in my personal life...

True or fasza

So we spent the weekend in Szarvas, that’s all I’ll tell you. Guess which of the following are true (check out Bridget's blog for clues). Answers / explanations to follow in a couple days:

- we spent the weekend (or a chunk of it) in a cottage on the river, complete with dock and rowboat
- we invented palingria (palinka + sangria) and enjoyed quite a bit of it
- we read about heavy-petting in a Hungarian magazine for children
- we all got very, very trashed/ stoned/ inebriated/ intoxicated/ smashed / soaked
- we rowed on the river at all hours of the night and day
- we reenacted several scenes from Moby Dick (I was Moby)
- we used the rowboat to sneak into the Szarvasi Arboretum
- we spelled out GHP (Great Hungarian Plain) with our bodies
- we went “fishing,” meaning we dumped bread crumbs in the water and watched the fish flock to them (can fish flock??)
- we saw a meter-long, inch-thick green snake sunning itself near our rowboat
- I went 72 hours without listening to my MP3
- we all managed to get to and away from Szarvas with no train/bus-related problems

Damage

What did we do this weekend? Again, it involved three different cities, transportation adventures, the eternal kaja-pia-nõk trifecta, and various injuries. Like like weekend, I think it’s best summed up in picture form.


Ouch. These weekends will kill one of us by the end of the year, mark my words.

Worth a thousand words

Instead of actually trying to sum up the entire weekend, I’m reducing it to three pictures, and three things I took away.


This is the castle in Gyula. I didn’t actually make it into the castle itself, but a couple of us braver ones made it into those pits you can see in the outermost wall. Since they were about 2 meters deep, what I took away was several strained muscles from trying to climb out again.


This is a crappy map of Gyula. We thought we could walk to Romania (read more about that disaster on Arlo’s blog). But at some point we got close enough for my SuperCell to pick up the Romania network and send me the welcome message.


This is a street sign. From Vasút utca, in Mezõberény. Not really sure where that is, but we must have been there, because I’ve got the sign.

For a much more interesting story, continue reading the Cepters Saga over at Laura’s blog.

“...yet with one swing she knocked them all down”

Forget me writing about new teachers’ orientation. Just read Laura’s saga here.

Somebody likes me...

Or else I’ve done something good, karma-wise.

Sorry for the lack of posts (and yes, that’s a Bart Simpson apology; I’m not sorry at all), but I have a good excuse, having spend the last week in Budapest. Laura and I helped again with the CETP orientation of the new teachers. More about that later. Back to the title of the post:

Who are the Amcsik I miss the most from last year? Gaines and Chad and Jeremy. What are the new teachers like? Chill like Chad, fun like Gaines, hilarious like Jeremy. Basically, awesome like us, and they fit into our group like they’ve been here all along. Laura said it best when she looked around the table and said, “Wait, which of you are newbies?”

Spring semester is going to be good.

Kicsi a világ (it's a small world.... after all)

És ha kisci a világ, akkor micsoda kisfalu Szolnok.

As Sara was leaving Sunday morning, I asked casually if she had anything: wallet, keys, cell phone? No, cell phone was missing. She and Laura and I tore my flat apart looking for it, to no avail. Eventually we gave up and she hopped on a train without it.

Fast forward 6 hours, I’m in a cafe when my contact teacher calls me (I really need to stop answering “Unknown” numbers, it always gets me in trouble) and demands that I return to the restaurant to pick up “the Gyöngyös girl”’s phone. She was very vague about how she had heard that the restaurant was in possession of Sara’s phone, so I had to wait until Monday to piece together the details of a truly bizarre sequence of coincidences:

The waitress found the phone and called the numbers in the phone book. After getting hold of several English-speakers, she dialed the first Hungarian name she found. Which happened to be Péter, a loose acquaintance Sara hadn’t talked to for weeks. Péter called his mother, who teaches at Sara’s school in Gyöngyös (still with me? Here comes the leap). Mother/teacher (I don’t have her name) called Edit, who is an English teacher at my school in Szolnok but who used to teach in Gyöngyös. Edit called Kati, my contact teacher, who called me as I already mentioned, and I hastened to the restaurant to liberate the troublesome phone, dragging Petra along in case I needed help.

The funny thing is, Sara, Laura and I walked past the restaurant on our way to the train station, and had we thought it’d been there could easily have asked for it. Instead, it took 7 people to get the phone from Sara to me... and god only knows how many it’ll take to get it back to her.

ps. And during the several hours it took me to finish writing this, I heard from Laura that her phone was stolen today by gypsies! My phone’s not leaving my sight until this crisis is over.