Catching Up
So I have had to be absent from blogging, emailing and basically all forms of communication for the past two weeks due to lack of Internet access. I will try to pick up where I left off… this is going to be super long. On Thursday morning, Reagan and I waited in the lobby of the hostel along with all of the other teachers, for our school contacts to come and pick us up. It was a little bit unnerving, I must admit, waiting like that and watching the other teachers leaving one by one to start their new adventures. Around 11 o’clock our host teacher, Adrienne and her daughter, Fanni, arrived in a hired van to drive us to Szerencs. Adrienne and I had been in touch over the summer, and she was kind enough to answer questions ahead of time for me about the school. She was very businesslike when she arrived, ushering us out the door in a hurry and telling us what to do. I have since discovered that this is just the way things are done in Hungary. Their language is more blunt and matter of fact. Foreigners often think they are angry when they are talking, when in fact they are not. It is interesting to observe the differences in Americans and Hungarians. The body language and tone of voice is completely opposite.
Szerencs is a three hour drive from Budapest, so we had plenty of time on the drive to get to know one another. Adrienne and I have quite a bit in common. She is 35 years old and works two jobs, plus goes to the university to get her degree. I think her schooling is comparable to mine, and what she is working on would be like a master’s. She is a single parent, and Fanni rarely sees her father. She also has a boyfriend who works in another country, although in Europe another country is like being in another state. They see each other every three or four weeks.
About an hour into the drive we pulled off at a restaurant out in the middle of nowhere. It was a buffet that the driver recommended. When we went inside, the man at the register showed Adrienne what everything was, and she explained it to us. There were many trays of meat, desserts, soups and pickled vegetables. Not a fresh veggie or piece of fruit in sight. Everything was swimming in a sauce or brine, and most of it was unidentifiable. Adrienne pointed at the first soup, “Goulash”, the second soup, “cow stomach”, the third soup, (and here she stopped and started to stammer…), “it’s how you say… the cock, his male parts, the cock’s male parts, that is what is in the soup”. Ummmm….. excuse me? No. Nem. Uh uh, no way.
So Reagan and I dined on all the other stuff at the buffet. Not the best, but not the worst either. Nothing to drink but soda, and not diet either. Now those of you that know me well, know that I have a very strict philosophy on beverages in general. I will never drink in calories what I could instead eat. I will not waste 180 calories on a coke, when I could instead eat a granola bar. This is a non-bending rule. You have all seen me turn down about a million glasses of juice, hot chocolate, beer, wine, soda, etc to avoid the empty calories. Now I am stuck in a country where every meal is punctuated by endless offerings of calorie and sugar filled crap. Every place you go, they whip out the two liter bottles of coke and fanta, (warm I might add… ice and refrigeration are foreign concepts here). You are obligated to accept. To refuse would be rude and an indication to your guest that you are unhappy with their offerings.
Then we arrived in Szerencs. I must admit, I was both excited and terrified to see our new home. We drove through a very small town, comparable to Fort Atkinson, and turned onto a street called Szabadsag. This means “liberty” in Hungarian, and it was actually one of the few words that I knew. It had to be a sign right? I mean, it was a sign, technically… but a sign that this would be a good start? Here’s hoping… We drove about ¾ of a mile up the road and stopped in front of a cute little house that was shaded in the front by two big pine trees. The front doors were wood and the windows were a metallic gold glass. The house was guarded by a swinging red metal gate that had to be unlatched to get into the house. I was already impressed, because I had thought we were going to be placed in one of the communist style apartment buildings that were dotted around town.
We were met at the door by a representative of the school, and she showed us our new home. We went inside and the front room is a large space with a couch, dining room table and a television on a stand. To the left is a large bedroom, nearly as large as the one I had back home in my condo. To the right was a smaller bedroom with a futon in it and a desk. The bathroom is divided into two rooms, a toilet area with a sliding door, and the rest of the bathroom which has a sink, shower stall and a washing machine. No dryer. Driers are rare in Europe. Everybody hangs their clothing to dry it, so of course tucked away in the corner was a drying rack. The kitchen is set up alley style with a counter, sink, and small stove. At the end of the alley is a small pantry and a refrigerator that is the same size you would see in a college dorm room. There is also a microwave and a toaster.
The school rep then showed us how to light the burners (gas stove requiring us to put a match to it), and attempted to light the oven but could not figure out how. Sooooo…. I guess we do not need an oven. Then everyone left us alone to get settled in our new home. We thought that we would venture into town to see what was open. The nearest stores and restaurants are about a mile and a half to two miles away. No problem really in the warm weather. So we walked. It was easy enough to find our way back into town. There really only seem to be a couple of main streets. The problem is, things close down very early in this town, and every place we stopped at appeared to be closed, in Spar (the Hungarian grocery chain, pronounced “Shparrrr”). We ran into a group of teenaged boys on rollerblades and I asked them if they spoke English. This apparently was hilarious to them, and they kept us standing there getting eaten alive by mosquitoes while they made me say Hungarian words and then laughed at my bad accent. Ugh. Bratty teenagers, same all over the world.
After a few minutes of teenage abuse, Reagan and I excused ourselves and went into the only open store “Penny”. This is like the el-cheapo grocery stores back home…Aldi? Super yucky selection. We settled on a package of spaghetti noodles and Bolognese sauce. Then we walked back home, cooked the food, watched a movie, went to bed, yadda yadda yadda. The only thing to report beside that was the fact that our toilet did not flush. Correction. It technically flushed, but nothing left it except the water. Toilets are different here, and ours is especially archaic. Hard to explain. More on that later. Soooo…. That was day one in Szerencs!!!
So I have had to be absent from blogging, emailing and basically all forms of communication for the past two weeks due to lack of Internet access. I will try to pick up where I left off… this is going to be super long. On Thursday morning, Reagan and I waited in the lobby of the hostel along with all of the other teachers, for our school contacts to come and pick us up. It was a little bit unnerving, I must admit, waiting like that and watching the other teachers leaving one by one to start their new adventures. Around 11 o’clock our host teacher, Adrienne and her daughter, Fanni, arrived in a hired van to drive us to Szerencs. Adrienne and I had been in touch over the summer, and she was kind enough to answer questions ahead of time for me about the school. She was very businesslike when she arrived, ushering us out the door in a hurry and telling us what to do. I have since discovered that this is just the way things are done in Hungary. Their language is more blunt and matter of fact. Foreigners often think they are angry when they are talking, when in fact they are not. It is interesting to observe the differences in Americans and Hungarians. The body language and tone of voice is completely opposite.
Szerencs is a three hour drive from Budapest, so we had plenty of time on the drive to get to know one another. Adrienne and I have quite a bit in common. She is 35 years old and works two jobs, plus goes to the university to get her degree. I think her schooling is comparable to mine, and what she is working on would be like a master’s. She is a single parent, and Fanni rarely sees her father. She also has a boyfriend who works in another country, although in Europe another country is like being in another state. They see each other every three or four weeks.
About an hour into the drive we pulled off at a restaurant out in the middle of nowhere. It was a buffet that the driver recommended. When we went inside, the man at the register showed Adrienne what everything was, and she explained it to us. There were many trays of meat, desserts, soups and pickled vegetables. Not a fresh veggie or piece of fruit in sight. Everything was swimming in a sauce or brine, and most of it was unidentifiable. Adrienne pointed at the first soup, “Goulash”, the second soup, “cow stomach”, the third soup, (and here she stopped and started to stammer…), “it’s how you say… the cock, his male parts, the cock’s male parts, that is what is in the soup”. Ummmm….. excuse me? No. Nem. Uh uh, no way.
So Reagan and I dined on all the other stuff at the buffet. Not the best, but not the worst either. Nothing to drink but soda, and not diet either. Now those of you that know me well, know that I have a very strict philosophy on beverages in general. I will never drink in calories what I could instead eat. I will not waste 180 calories on a coke, when I could instead eat a granola bar. This is a non-bending rule. You have all seen me turn down about a million glasses of juice, hot chocolate, beer, wine, soda, etc to avoid the empty calories. Now I am stuck in a country where every meal is punctuated by endless offerings of calorie and sugar filled crap. Every place you go, they whip out the two liter bottles of coke and fanta, (warm I might add… ice and refrigeration are foreign concepts here). You are obligated to accept. To refuse would be rude and an indication to your guest that you are unhappy with their offerings.
Then we arrived in Szerencs. I must admit, I was both excited and terrified to see our new home. We drove through a very small town, comparable to Fort Atkinson, and turned onto a street called Szabadsag. This means “liberty” in Hungarian, and it was actually one of the few words that I knew. It had to be a sign right? I mean, it was a sign, technically… but a sign that this would be a good start? Here’s hoping… We drove about ¾ of a mile up the road and stopped in front of a cute little house that was shaded in the front by two big pine trees. The front doors were wood and the windows were a metallic gold glass. The house was guarded by a swinging red metal gate that had to be unlatched to get into the house. I was already impressed, because I had thought we were going to be placed in one of the communist style apartment buildings that were dotted around town.
We were met at the door by a representative of the school, and she showed us our new home. We went inside and the front room is a large space with a couch, dining room table and a television on a stand. To the left is a large bedroom, nearly as large as the one I had back home in my condo. To the right was a smaller bedroom with a futon in it and a desk. The bathroom is divided into two rooms, a toilet area with a sliding door, and the rest of the bathroom which has a sink, shower stall and a washing machine. No dryer. Driers are rare in Europe. Everybody hangs their clothing to dry it, so of course tucked away in the corner was a drying rack. The kitchen is set up alley style with a counter, sink, and small stove. At the end of the alley is a small pantry and a refrigerator that is the same size you would see in a college dorm room. There is also a microwave and a toaster.
The school rep then showed us how to light the burners (gas stove requiring us to put a match to it), and attempted to light the oven but could not figure out how. Sooooo…. I guess we do not need an oven. Then everyone left us alone to get settled in our new home. We thought that we would venture into town to see what was open. The nearest stores and restaurants are about a mile and a half to two miles away. No problem really in the warm weather. So we walked. It was easy enough to find our way back into town. There really only seem to be a couple of main streets. The problem is, things close down very early in this town, and every place we stopped at appeared to be closed, in Spar (the Hungarian grocery chain, pronounced “Shparrrr”). We ran into a group of teenaged boys on rollerblades and I asked them if they spoke English. This apparently was hilarious to them, and they kept us standing there getting eaten alive by mosquitoes while they made me say Hungarian words and then laughed at my bad accent. Ugh. Bratty teenagers, same all over the world.
After a few minutes of teenage abuse, Reagan and I excused ourselves and went into the only open store “Penny”. This is like the el-cheapo grocery stores back home…Aldi? Super yucky selection. We settled on a package of spaghetti noodles and Bolognese sauce. Then we walked back home, cooked the food, watched a movie, went to bed, yadda yadda yadda. The only thing to report beside that was the fact that our toilet did not flush. Correction. It technically flushed, but nothing left it except the water. Toilets are different here, and ours is especially archaic. Hard to explain. More on that later. Soooo…. That was day one in Szerencs!!!
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