Adjusting to the U.S. again

We have been home for 5 weeks now.  I have been trying to be observant of my responses, reactions and adjustments because this is the first time I have ever experienced being away from my home land.


On the flight home I had a 3 hour layover in Seattle.  Jack and I flew separately so I was really able to go inward and reflect on the process.  As I sat in the terminal and watched the travelers walk by me my first reaction was how diverse they were.  I saw people of Asian, African, Hispanic, East Indian decent.  That was a huge difference from the 11 months prior.  The other thing that I noticed immediately was how people would smile at me (for no reason).  The Hungarian people tend to be quite somber and I certainly did not have people smile at me on the street.  I came to respect this and just did not make eye contact or smile as I would at home.  Once people recognized us like the merchants or the old lady who sold veggies and flowers from her garden to us, they were very friendly (even though we could not converse), but strangers just don't acknowledge each other like they do here.


My taxi driver did not speak english well, so I went into slow speak mode as I gave him the directions to find my house.  Our street intersects with a blind corner so there is a mirror on the telephone pole to give you a view of the oncoming traffic.  I always tell people about the mirror when they leave our house, so I stood in the driveway and gave him directions before he pulled out.  I dug out my key and messed with it because I couldn't remember which direction (notches up or down) in went it.  As I opened the door, much to my amazement, both of the cats were sitting there to greet me!  How did they know it was me?  I had expected them to hide under the bed in fear when I came in!  The more I thought about it, the more I decided that they must have recognized my voice as I was talking to the driver!  And people say that cats are not smart!


I have found that now I think about every trip in the car that I take and am more cognizant of the distances that I drive.  We were able to use public transit for an entire year in Hungary.  When I used to see someone waiting for a bus, I used to feel sorry for them.  Now I think, "Aren't they smart, they don't have the expense of a car."


After having to be creative with my wardrobe because I had so few clothes, I have lost the desire to shop for more and really feel that I have an abundance of clothes (and really who really cares anyway?)


Life is definitely easier when everyone speaks your language.  Still I find myself yearning for the challenges that we dealt with and know that someday we will return to live in Budapest.

Final Ceremony

The last few days in Budapest were a blur.  First we attended the "leaving" ceremony for Jack's 8th graders.  It was held in the evening and just like the opening ceremony in August, the school was an oven.  The classes gathered in their form class which is like a homeroom.  They all wore the formal uniform and many of the girls had had their hair done up.  Most of them (including the boys) had been given multiple bouquets of flowers.  The 5th-7th grade classes were also in their homeroom classes.  Family and friends collected on both sides of the stage, and all along the balcony.  

At the starting hour, the two 8th grade classes formed a single file line behind their form teacher.  These teachers stay with the kids from 5th grade through the 8th, so everyone knows each other very well.  The graduates snaked from classroom to classroom carrying their flowers and serenaded the other classes, weaving their way through the school and then downstairs where they were seated by form class. The principal's husband was standing next to me and he translated for me during the short ceremony commemorating their accomplishments.  After that they were given balloons in the school colors of blue and yellow.  Then in groups with the spectators following, they went outside where they released the balloons with much fanfare.  They have had this big environmental program in tandem with a school in Ireland for a couple of years, so the balloon launch in my mind, did not mesh with that.  It was a sweet salute to the years spent at the school and it seemed to mean a lot to the kids that we had come.

June-the end of school.

Wow, June was a blur!  The kids were done in their heads about the end of May.  It seemed to me to be a more pronounced shift in attitude than in the U.S. but that may have been due to my having been retired for the last 3 years.  The entire last week of school I gave up trying to teach.  Part of the problem was that I had to turn in all of my curriculum 5 days before school was over.  At that point it would have been ridiculous to have tried to maintain class as usual.  I ended up taking all of my classes outside.  But, one day the door to the courtyard area where we had been going was locked.  I sent one of the kids to get a key from the porter (not giving it a second thought).  He ambled over with his key ring and instead of being his jovial self, he was scowling and would hardly look at me.  I thought to myself, "Even the porter is dead tired at this point in the year."  This was during first period.  When I told my second period class that we would be going out, they responded that Clari (one of the administrators) had told their first period class that no one would be able to go into the play yard that morning.  Since I had no lesson plans and the classrooms were hotter than hell, I said, "Well, no one told me, so we are going out". (I guess that explained the porter's attitude when I had him unlock the door, he was going against orders.) This is an example of the  lack of communication that proved to be one of the most frustrating aspects of our teaching in Hungary.


As challenging as it was to teach in Hungary, I had become very attached to most of the kids.  One of my 5th grade classes in particular has been really fun to work with and I like all of the kids (even the tough ones.)  On the last day I went into their classroom and kissed each one of them on both cheeks (as I had become comfortable with doing) and said goodbye to them.  As I write this I still get a lump in my throat knowing that I will probably never see them again.

6th graders

Let me first say that I have hated May with children for years.  It is close enough to the end of the school year that kids are "done".  They are wild in class and just don't want to work. By June they seem to settle down a little and there are lots of field trips and other events to break up the instruction time.

 Well, Hungarian children are no different and might be a little worse.  Everyday my classes come in and ask to "play" because school is almost out.  I tell them the same thing each time; "I am paid to teach you english and you don't learn any by playing Heads UP 7 UP!"  I taught them this game because it is American (I think) and ensures that at least for a couple of minutes they will be quiet!

So, on with my story of the 6th grade girls.   I chose to walk to the 2nd bus stop and get on there yesterday.  That way I don't have to wait with lots of crazy children for the bus to come.  As it pulled up some of the windows were open and I could hear this racket.  I looked in before boarding and saw a pile of my 6th grade girls right in the front of the bus just screaming and laughing.  Well when they spotted me getting on they made a beeline for the back where they clustered and continued their rowdy behavior.  I followed them although it would have been easier to just sit in the front and ignore them.  When I got there, I got no attitude, just whoo, hoo party type stuff.  They respect me enough to have quieted down enough so that I could give them the "You represent our school and right now you are embarrassing me" speech.  They quieted down a little and just tried talking with me about how they couldn't help it that school was almost out and they were too excited.  (Mind you, school is NOT out until June 15).  "Oh but you love us anyway, Mrs. Holmes" one of them said to me.  I looked each one of them in the eye and said, "Yes, I love you, but sometimes I don't like your behavior!"

We all got off the bus at the same stop.  They were going to the complex of flats on the right and ours is more on the left.  One of the girls that I found to be more challenging in the fall than the others, but who has come around did not veer off with her friends, but instead walked side by side with me.  I had seen her go toward the complexes on the right before, so I knew that she was taking a slight detour.  When I asked her about it, she said, "Are you trying to get rid of me?".  "No, I like talking with you, I was just curious" I replied.  We continued to walk and talk for another block.  I knew that she had a hand ball competition over the weekend,  so we talked about that.  When it came to the point where I should cross the street, she said goodbye and took a hard right.  Her body language said I am too cool to want to spend time with my teacher even though she had just made an effort to do just that!  Gotta love 6th graders because by the 7th grade the peers always win over adult contact!

Transitions

""During my teaching career at home, beginning in early August  I would start having dreams of school.  A usual theme was of walking into a classroom and finding that I had the class from hell.  I always figured that was the way I was preparing on a subconscious level for my summer to end and the preparations for another school year to begin.

Last night I dreamed that I was in the Portland airport and was checking my wallet to see if I had enough money for the taxi.  When I opened it, all I could see was colorful currency (the forint is quite colorful) but no dollars.  I must be preparing for the transition home.

I have been observing that besides being tired to the bone and yet not sleeping well (it's currently 2:54 AM) there are some things which are really annoying me.  These are not new, I have been tolerating them for months, but now they have become annoying.  Our flat is the first one on the left side of the hall, so that our bathroom wall is where the hallway ends.  There is a heavy metal fire door there.  You can shut this door quietly with a little care.  Sometimes (like when the kid down the hall blasts through it) it slams so hard that the walls in our flat vibrate.  It seems that no one is taking care to shut it quietly lately and that is really bugging me.  The toilet seat is too small for the toilet and has begun to shift to the left.  If you sit down too hard, it will jerk and slide.  I am tired of that.  Our glorious spring weather has gone to sh@%!!  It has been raining hard for several days and the weather forecast shows more of the same this week.  The paths where I walk the dogs have turned to mud holes and when the rain stops, the mosquitos quickly rise in the woods.  It has been so unpleasant that there was no dog walking session all week.  It is as if Budapest is telling us that it is time to go home.

On a lighter note. On Thursday, I returned to school late in the afternoon for a private tutoring session with a couple of kids who do not go to our school.  My classes at KFAMK had ended for the day several hours earlier and I had turned in my keys to the porter who speaks not a word of english. I don't have a classroom, so my classes are held in different rooms throughout the day and each time, I have to fetch a key from him.
 He is always pleasant and smiles but that is the limit of our conversation.  I was not in need of a key because we meet with these kids in Jack's classroom and were issued keys to that room in the fall.  I was preoccupied as I walked by the porter's station, going over my plans for Tundi and Balasz.  I had passed his window without even looking in to greet him.  Just as I got past I heard "Koti" which is how Hungarians usually pronounce my name.  He had never called me by name before.  I turned around and returned to his window.  He gave me a smile. "Kolch"?  (not the correct spelling, but that is how the word "key" sounds to me).    I think he thought that he was saving me a return trip down the stairs to retrieve the key to the classroom that I use the most often.  I shook my head, "nem" and showed him the key ring with the key on it. "O.K." he replied.  At that point I felt more like a true member of the staff than ever before.

The School's 25th Anniversary

Karinthy Frigyes school celebrated it's 25th anniversary on Saturday.  The festivities started at 10:00 and the entire community had an open invitation to come and partake.

It started with a Brazilian drum band which led us on a circuit around the building.  This had a real latin feel to it and I found myself marveling at the fact that Hungarians could appreciate that beat as well.  These guys knew how to work the crowd!  Pretty soon a few brave women started a conga line!  I could have listened (and moved) with them for hours!

After the steel band finished there were activities all over the school including a play (which looked to be some sort of fairy tale or folk story based on the costumes), a May pole where messages could be written, different entertainment centers throughout the building, a slide show with 25 years of memories on a constant loop, kids displaying their artwork and what I found to be really interesting, a human foos ball game.  If you look at the picture which I have included, the kids are tethered inside an expandable "cage"  and they attempt to get a ball into the goal of the opposing team.  When I asked some of my students why the kids were clamped onto a rope, they explained to me that it was supposed to be a living (insert Hungarian word here).  They loved it and I remarked to Jack that we could use such a system in our classrooms for the kids who always need to be moving!

The party went on for hours, we stayed for two, and were given a souvenir book and t-shirts with the school name and logo imprinted on them.  It was a fun time for all and demonstrated that Hungarians can organize a big event when  they have to because in our experience, and we were told this by our Hungarian trainers in August, organization is not a strength for them!

Jack Botsci

We took the subway into Budapest last night for dinner.   We were sitting facing a couple who had a young boy in one of those slings where he was facing out toward the world on his dad's chest.  He was about 22 months old and really checking Jack out.  Pretty soon I heard him say, "Botsci " which means uncle and is a term of respect that the kids at school also use when addressing the teachers.  So, if we had chosen those terms, they would be calling us Jack Botsci  and Cathie Neni.  We started with Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, but some of my kids get a kick out of calling me Cathie Neni.  Anyway, I heard this little guy say Botsci and I said, "Igen" (yes) and pointed to Jack.  Then I pointed to myself and said "neni" and he repeated it.  His parents were beaming as we had this little exchange with their son. He kept repeating and Jack and I would just crack us up and I am sure it was a fun game and reinforcing for him.  It was quite sweet.