Human Connections

I am dedicating this post to my friend Karen who lost her battle with ALS this week. I hope that she is now in peace.

First of all, let me say that I have a real empathy for the elderly who live in this country. In their lifetime they have heard (through their parents) the shame of the treaty after WWI where Hungary was divided and land awarded to their neighbors . The result was that Hungary is now 2/3 of it's former size and families may have been split up depending upon where they lived.

The Hungarians also were on the losing side of WWII. Then the Communists invaded shortly after that and this country endured several decades of Soviet rule.

That being said, I had an interesting experience at the bus stop this week. An old guy came over to me and started talking in Hungarian. His clothes showed many years of wear and the bag he was carrying was so frayed on the handles that I don't think it had many more uses left. His hair was stark white and he had the startling blue eyes that I see on so many people over here. As he got closer, I detected the slight body odor that old people get when they resist bathing as often as they should.

When he spoke to me, I responded in Hungarian, " I don't understand, I speak English. " So he said angol (English) and continued to try and communicate, going on and on. I concentrated on the words and gestures and pretty soon I could pick up enough words that I knew either in Hungarian or German (he was trying them all) to think I might be getting the gist of what he was saying. When we got on the bus, I saw one of my 5th graders and asked her to sit by us and be the interpreter.

Sure enough, he had been telling me that in WWII he had known Americans, Russians and Germans (comrades) and that he had flown a plane (that part I hadn't figured out.) He had also been telling me something about a Dr., a fraline, and used the word kaput. I thought he had been talking about someone who was sick and died. When my student translated . . . sure enough, he had been telling me that his wife had been sick and passed away two years ago.

When I got to my stop, we shook hands and as the bus drove away, he started throwing me kisses! Poor guy is probably so lonely. Amazing that we were able to communicate at all. I guess it came down to we are both part of the human community and had an interest in each other.

The joys and frustrations of not knowing the language

Okay, I think it is time to muse about what is negative and positive about not speaking the language that you are surrounded by.

First of all, I am now so used to hearing Hungarian, that if I am on the street and hear English, it almost stops me in my tracks.

Although I try to enforce the "english only " rule with my classes, they will often lapse into their mother tongue to check in with each other about things they need to clarify, etc. At least, my fantasy is that they are all on task! Today, a girl had her writing out and asked me a question in Hungarian and due to the context, I was able to answer without hesitation because I knew what she was asking.

There is not much english spoken here, so yesterday I had to go to a pharmacy to get some Advil and Neosporin (yes, you have to go to a pharmacy to purchase these mundane items). The pharmacist and I (with her smattering of english and lots of pantomime) were able to figure out what I needed and I did come away with the products. Whew! It is nothing like making a quick stop at Freddies, I can tell you that!

Now, for the bonuses. . . Jack and I can talk freely on the subway about the people that we see without worrying about who is listening (great for clandetine gossiping). Also, I can be sitting in the staff room working on a lesson plan undisturbed and I don't have to spend any energy listening to what is being said around me, because I can't understand anyway!

The interesting part about all of this is that for an hour or so after I come home from school where I have had to talk in a slow and deliberate way I find that the thoughts in my head come in the same way, weird, huh?

Day to day adjustments

Wow, I have never been in a situation before where everything is different, from how to flush the toilet, to shopping for specific items when you can't read the contents, figuring out the bus schedule, to carrying a zillion keys to the flat. Every day we come home exhausted with informational overload!

Everything that I had read and heard mentioned that the Hungarian people are not that friendly to strangers and that they think Americans smile too much and therefore are not to be trusted. I have not found that to be true. Making a fuss out of their little dog has really been an icebreaker for me as far as the neighbors in the flat. Even if they don't understand the words, they appreciate the sentiment and will smile and speak the next time I see them. Of course, I am sensitive to body language that tells me not to approach them.

At school about half of the teachers speak some English. We have found the staff to be quite friendly and helpful and even the ones who don't speak much English will attempt some niceities.

We don't have a car (although the school has loaned us a bike). I didn't really appreciate how much cars simplify our lives. Everytime we go to the store, we have to 1.) make sure we take our bags since they charge for bags (yes they are ahead of the U.S. in this way, but I think it has more to do with economics than the enviornment) and 2.) consider the bulk and weight of everything since we will be carrying it home. It really does force you to decide how much you really need an item.

Hopefully, I will soon learn how to add pics to my blog!