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:

Ópusztaszer

Tara's pictures of Ópusztaszer made me jealous, and finally prodded me into making a post out of mine.

So a couple of weeks (er, months) ago on a nice sunny Saturday, Tomi and I decided to take a mini roadtrip to Ópusztaszer. It began, as every Hungarian trip must, with the Making of the Sandwiches:


Followed about an hour later by the Eating of the Sandwiches. We stopped at a little turn-off and ate, frolicked in the fields, avoided the many dead animals nearby...


We took an unplanned tour of Csongrád, which was beautiful. I want to go back there sometime when I'm free to take pictures, instead of trying to read a map while speeding down a labyrinth of narrow one-way streets. Anyway, with no major mishaps we arrived:


Tomi took over the camera, and was very thorough in his photography. We now have an entire collection of pictures of wax Hungarian kings. Here's Béla the Fourth and his daughter Saint Margit:
One of the few pictures taken by me. Someday in my grown-up house, I'm going to have a corner cabinet like this one:
After exploring all that the Rotunda had to offer, we continued through the yurts*. They were filled with wood-related things which were utterly fascinating for Tomi and totally boring for me, so I sat a lot while he read everything. And took pictures of everything:

I also asked him to take this picture. It's populations of Hungarians over the world:

Finally we reached the village open-air museum. By this point we were getting hungry and tired - him from all that shutter-pushing and me from all that sitting, I guess. So we didn't actually go into any of the buildings...


Except for the mill, of course:

After the mill we had lunch, bought a couple postcards and such, and headed home. As I was looking at the map just now, I realized that we left out a lot of things - more than I originally thought. I think a second trip might be in order...

* I can't even tell you how much distress this word caused me - I couldn't remember if it was yurt or jurt or yert in English, so of course I wanted to look it up in the dictionary. I don't have an English dictionary at home. So I checked the Hungarian->English at the sztaki dictionary - nothing. I dug out my paper dictionary, and horror of horrors, it wasn't in it! Nor in any of the other Hungarian-English dictionaries I have. What the heck's up with that?

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.

Another weekend, another festival

This weekend, rather spur-of-the-moment, we headed of to Dunaújváros* for the EFOTT festival. Similar to last weekend, the plan was to go for one day (Saturday), catch the show, and come back the next day. Here the similarities end.

company - this weekend, I was the sole female (although not from lack of trying on some people's parts...) It was the familial (or do I mean familiar?) foursome: me, Tomi, Atti, Gabi.

transport - did not involve any yachts, but was nevertheless more varied. Trains of various qualities, bus, metro, taxi, foot... it all fell in. Actually, although long, the trip was uneventful, typical: drinking and carousing on the way down, sleeping and moaning on the way back.

festival itself - smaller for starts. While Balatonsound was mainly techno, EFOTT was mostly rock, and all Hungarian acts, not a single foreign group. So, a different atmosphere completely.
Fewer people in bathing suits and many more in black t-shirts and boots. The crowd was older by a few years. There was no giant lake, of course, and it felt less like a beach party and more like a... I don't know. It wasn't as laid-back, and altogether I preferred Balatonsound's atmosphere (although the music is a different story... see below).

language - I think I wrote about last weekend being too Hungarian-intense for me. This was better, despite the festival being, as I said before, an all-Hungarian event. While I don't want to claim to have been the only foreigner there... the only English I heard was among us. Although strangely, as our neighbors were de-tenting (?) early this morning, amidst a storm of Hungarian complaining one said the other in mournful-sounding English, "Please help me."

music - the heart of the festival. The reason for going Saturday night was, on the main stage back-to-back-to-back, 30Y .... Bëlga .... Tankcsapda. Too great to be missed. Well, we did miss a chunk of 30Y because we went wandering off, but what we heard was okay; they're not my favorite anyway. Tankcsapda, my fave, my love.... was a huge disappointment. People told me that they suck live, but my memories of seeing them at Sziget were good (if a bit hazy, ahem). The difference must have been that at Sziget, we were in a huge crowd a good ways back from the stage. In EFOTT, I was pressed right up against the front row fence, and could see all the nasty seedy details. The singer is a complete parody of "Aging Rock Band," complete with long bleach-blond hair, oh-so-carelessly windblown by the strategically placed fan. We watched half the concert up front before escaping further back.
Bëlga, on the other hand, were incredible. They put on a hell of a show - sang, rapped, danced around like idiots, and generally looked like they were just up there enjoying themselves. Their enthusiasm was contagious, and their show was the best I've been to.... um, I'll say ever. Although for reasons of scientific comparision, I'm going to have to check out some more of their concerts... for science, damn you!

So that was that. By the way, one thing that didn't miraculously change between this weekend and last was my dislike of camping. I don't know what we're doing next weekend, but if I have any say it'll involve real beds, showers, and food that isn't ridiculously over-priced.

*Funny, last weekend when we were trying an autópálya-free route home, we almost went through Dunaújváros. Apparently the city has some pull on us...

Balaton

the time: last weekend
the place: Balaton
the players: self, Tomi, mutual friend Tamás, his ex-girlfriend and my ex-student Vivi, and her friend Ági
the plan: drive down to Zamárdi on Friday and catch one day of Balatonsound. Spend Saturday somewhere else on the lake. Come home Sunday. A simple plan, open.

the highlights:

* Balatonsound was, well, meh. I'm not that into techno/trance/electric what-the-hell-ever anyway, so the music wasn't that interesting for me. Although Massive Attack put on a good visual show. The festival was "nagyon feelingos," lots of beer and junk food and bathing-suit-wearing people lying on the grass. Best parts were running into (literally) old friends, plus swimming. Both of which I could have done without paying the 7000 forint ticket. Oh well.

* The Hungarian-English ratio left me longing for American friends. I suppose I should have predicted it: me, who won't speak Hungarian in front of strangers; one friend who speaks English with me but not in front of others; other friend who speaks both but chooses Hungarian as the easier; one stranger who speaks perfect English and occasionally did; other stranger whose English approximates my Hungarian. So I was quiet a lot the whole weekend, which was peaceful but a bit isolated.

* On Friday, as we were discussing options for the next days, Tamás suggested sailing. We nodded ambiguously, mulling over the cost. Well. In typical fashion, it turned out that he had already made sailing plans. Namely, that his parents have a boat in Füred. So we spend Saturday and Sunday sailing, sunning, swimming around the lake. It was amazing! I've never been on a sail boat before... although to call it a sail boat somehow minimizes it, it was BIG.

* Getting home was ridiculous. We left Füred around 5. In normal traffic the trip would take, absolute maximum, 3 hours. But, being Sunday evening, everyone and their mother and their kitchen sink was driving back on the same two roads. Even the autópálya was bumper-to-bumper. We got home at 11:30.

* Altogether it was a great mini-vacation. Now I have to start thinking about the next one, which will be Dublin in August. Anyone who knows any must-sees, must-dos, etc, for Dublin, let me know!

Balaton pictures to come... tomorrow. This week. Some day. Maybe.

So, June...

As per my usual lazy updating, here's everything that's happened in June:

* School ended. It was less dramatic than the seniors leaving in May, since after all, I'll see 'em all again next year. It rained on the last day and the closing ceremony was held inside, broadcast over the intercom to each classroom. Overall, it was anticlimactic.

* I took part in my first-ever Érettségi (school-leaving exams). Wow. Just wow. I don't want to get started ranting about a system in which your final exam grades are based half on what you know and half on how kind your teacher is to you, so I'll just leave it at: wow.

* I started Hungarian lessons. I mean, for real this time. With an actual teacher, not a friend. It's bizarre - in a good way - how much Hungarian I realize I know when I'm forced to speak it twice a week. Then again, it's sad how little I know after three years here. Anyway, I have the vague idea that I'm going to take a magyar mint idegen nyelv exam in September. Or November...

* We went on a family road-trip. Tomi and family and I took a two-day trip across Hungary, packed into a small-ish, air-conditioning-less Volkswagen. The point of the trip was mainly to go to Sopron to see Tomi's 2nd graduation, the one to which families and all are invited, where they hand out the diplomas. Like all ceremonies in English and Hungarian, it was speech speech speech, clap clap clap, sit sit sit... so, boring. Although, this particular ceremony had it's own unique undercurrent of excitement, a story so unbelievably soap-opera-ish that I can hardly post it here (but buy me a beer and I'll regal you with all the gritty details).
Between the graduation and the endless driving, we also managed to squeeze in a bit of sightseeing in Sopron... pubs are sights, right? Plus, on the way back we took a detour down to Balaton and had the first swim of the year (cheap bathing suits and towels courtesy of Tesco). We got back pretty late on Wednesday night, but it was well worth it.

* I started ATC-making again. I would say, "pictures to come in the next post," but we all know that I won't post again for another month, so...

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.