And I'm not even a movie star! Yesterday, I had my second open lesson at Rakoczi primary school at which a publisher, several Hungarian English teachers, and a camera crew observed. I spent the previous evenings diligently planning for this event as I could detect that Etelka was nervously hoping I would pull through for her school and wow everyone. She even bought a huge bottle of Cola Light for me, knowing it's my favorite.
So I went to work on my musical instruments vocabulary lesson (which turned out to be a hit with the teachers and kids!) Ha, surprisingly. Thank God for "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" by Billy Joel who gave me the lead-in to my lesson. My 6th graders have no idea who he is, but at least now they know a few notes. They had to identify the musical instruments in the song and then at the end of the lesson, they listened one more time and were successfully able to identify MORE instruments after learning the vocab that I presented during the lesson.
Yesterday, I walked home grinning and with a bounce in my step because I had experienced that RARE moment in teaching where you witness the fruits of your labor. Even better was the fact that fifteen other teachers, the camera man, and the publisher witnessed it as well.
This moment pulled me a little more out of my Hungarian winter frustration funk...which had consisted of apartment bound days grumbling about the amount of snow being dumped on the street, monotonous days of teaching (pointless?) lessons, and too-short weekends. What helps even more is that Hungary seems to be experiencing a preview of almost spring weather...
As I live on a hill, the streets are now concrete waterfalls, the melted snow rushing away to collect in puddles that continue to make the bottom of my pants wet.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
Re-visiting the Past
Even though I haven't attended a faculty meeting at any of my schools lately, I had a thought: the differences between faculty meetings at Belleville East (BEAST) High School (my job last year) and at Rakoczi Zsgimond Altalanos Iskola (1/4 of my job this year).
1. SNACKS
BEAST: Bags of chips, pop cans, or water. Sometimes we had ice-cream, nachos, or huge cookies that were the secret to getting everyone to attend the meetings (what a combo!)
RZAI: Pogacsa (spelling???) Mini-muffin like things that are supposedly impossible to bake, several chocolate delicacies that no one seems to eat but me and a table full of glasses for a bottle of Fanta or bubbly water.
2. LEAVING CHILDREN BEHIND
BEAST: This was the purpose of our life as teachers at East. Under no circumstances were we to leave ANY child behind. This was the point of most fac mtgs. as part of the English dept. We were prepped, guided, and instructed on ways to make our school dig itself out of the depths of failing schools everywhere through weekly PSAE practice.
RZAI: If a student falls behind, it's pretty much up to the student to pull him/herself forward again.
3. ARRIVING IN A TIMELY FASHION
BEAST: Even though faculty meetings began ten minutes after the last class ended, you were expected to be front and center on the dot. I think I remember the cracking of pop cans attracting peripheral glances of annoyance.
RZAI: Timely fashion? 'Nuff said.
4. MEETING STRUCTURE
BEAST: Intros, matters of concern, and a somewhat detailed outline of what was to be covered in a thirty minute meeting were timed and gave you spaces to take notes before you broke up into smaller teams to tackle the on-going issues of keeping a steady pace so that no child fell behind. Our Dept. Head making jokes here and there at which all of us laughed, because we were all scared of her.
RZAI: From what I gather, the headmaster reads something straight from a piece of paper while the teachers look at photos, gossip, grade papers, or knit in the background. Other than that, I don't know, because I don't speak Hungarian.
1. SNACKS
BEAST: Bags of chips, pop cans, or water. Sometimes we had ice-cream, nachos, or huge cookies that were the secret to getting everyone to attend the meetings (what a combo!)
RZAI: Pogacsa (spelling???) Mini-muffin like things that are supposedly impossible to bake, several chocolate delicacies that no one seems to eat but me and a table full of glasses for a bottle of Fanta or bubbly water.
2. LEAVING CHILDREN BEHIND
BEAST: This was the purpose of our life as teachers at East. Under no circumstances were we to leave ANY child behind. This was the point of most fac mtgs. as part of the English dept. We were prepped, guided, and instructed on ways to make our school dig itself out of the depths of failing schools everywhere through weekly PSAE practice.
RZAI: If a student falls behind, it's pretty much up to the student to pull him/herself forward again.
3. ARRIVING IN A TIMELY FASHION
BEAST: Even though faculty meetings began ten minutes after the last class ended, you were expected to be front and center on the dot. I think I remember the cracking of pop cans attracting peripheral glances of annoyance.
RZAI: Timely fashion? 'Nuff said.
4. MEETING STRUCTURE
BEAST: Intros, matters of concern, and a somewhat detailed outline of what was to be covered in a thirty minute meeting were timed and gave you spaces to take notes before you broke up into smaller teams to tackle the on-going issues of keeping a steady pace so that no child fell behind. Our Dept. Head making jokes here and there at which all of us laughed, because we were all scared of her.
RZAI: From what I gather, the headmaster reads something straight from a piece of paper while the teachers look at photos, gossip, grade papers, or knit in the background. Other than that, I don't know, because I don't speak Hungarian.
The Olympic Weekend
The trip from Liz's flat in Tiszaujvaros to my flat in Szerencs takes about 15-20 minutes by car, but over an hour by train. Oh well...I'll deal. This is where I was this past weekend.
Upon arrival, I was greeted by Liz and Jeremy. We rejoiced in the certain je ne sais quoi we all have and re-capped life in Hungary by reading Jeremy's journal complete with maps, diagrams, and quotes. Oh...ahem...and sipping on a little red wine.
Flocks of CETPers migrated to Liz's that night and even more the next morning. The group slumbered in every nook and cranny of Liz's schoolyard apartment. My favorite part of this weekend had to be the ice-skating at Tisaujvaros' year-round rink. Jeremy did a wonderful interpretive ice-dance to "Magyarorszag" playing scratchily from the bleacher speakers and the snow started to fall as we left hurriedly for the thermal baths. The baths in town make your skin feel incredibly smooth and unlike some famous baths in Budapest, there is a scorching pool that gets you drowsily warm after splashing around in the outdoor maze of water. It was refreshing, however, to float outside in the water under the falling snow and foggy moon.
I have difficulty sleeping on the road (even when I'm technically not on the road, but in someone else's apt.) so I came home on Sunday afternoon feeling like a zombie. But it's better to have broken up the week by traveling somewhere and becoming deserving of your tiredness instead of feeling like a zombie because you haven't been able to escape the winter jail of your flat.
We did watch some Olympics on mute (b/c it was in Hungarian) and to various people's iPods...and I just remember being in awe of the ski jumpers...such a short moment of glory or tragedy.
Upon arrival, I was greeted by Liz and Jeremy. We rejoiced in the certain je ne sais quoi we all have and re-capped life in Hungary by reading Jeremy's journal complete with maps, diagrams, and quotes. Oh...ahem...and sipping on a little red wine.
Flocks of CETPers migrated to Liz's that night and even more the next morning. The group slumbered in every nook and cranny of Liz's schoolyard apartment. My favorite part of this weekend had to be the ice-skating at Tisaujvaros' year-round rink. Jeremy did a wonderful interpretive ice-dance to "Magyarorszag" playing scratchily from the bleacher speakers and the snow started to fall as we left hurriedly for the thermal baths. The baths in town make your skin feel incredibly smooth and unlike some famous baths in Budapest, there is a scorching pool that gets you drowsily warm after splashing around in the outdoor maze of water. It was refreshing, however, to float outside in the water under the falling snow and foggy moon.
I have difficulty sleeping on the road (even when I'm technically not on the road, but in someone else's apt.) so I came home on Sunday afternoon feeling like a zombie. But it's better to have broken up the week by traveling somewhere and becoming deserving of your tiredness instead of feeling like a zombie because you haven't been able to escape the winter jail of your flat.
We did watch some Olympics on mute (b/c it was in Hungarian) and to various people's iPods...and I just remember being in awe of the ski jumpers...such a short moment of glory or tragedy.
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Skiing in Slovakia was Secondary
As I've recently been in a winter funk that causes me to feel unmotivated and driven to dive into my bed for lingering naps here and there, I've been unable to record my ski trip in a timely fashion. Better late than never...
Driving home from Slovakia last Sunday under an apricot-colored sky, the ski crew made the observation that skiing really was just an obscure tangent to the weekend. This was the point of our journey after all.
The reason why I love CETP-ers so much is that none of us really gets bent out of shape if, say, someone decides to shoot through the Hungarian/Slovakian border like sporting a toll pass if it appears to be closed. In Chad’s defense, there weren’t many lights on. The only sign of life being the guards that shouted after our car as it raced past the booth, and then again when we tried to reverse, but only succeeded in jerking forward. Luckily, our subtle charm won us entry to Slovakia…or maybe it was just pity for the crazy Americans and one Hungarian in the clown car (we referred to Juli’s car this way because at one point, we had to use Tetris logic to squeeze six of us in).
We managed to arrive in our quiet and calm Slovakian town late at night after an eventful few hours of driving. Juli, Chad, Jillian, Jon, and I were to meet Liz at a nice inn that night...however the woman at the desk didn't seem to understand our situation and it took a good ten minutes of using the group's limited German, pantomimes, and pointing to get her to allow us in Liz's room. We didn't end the night there, but headed out to the only happenin' night spot in town: the Kapitol Pub. We danced to a combination of Anastasia, Natasha Beddingfield, Robbie Williams...oh and for nostalgic purposes: Kriss Kross (Jump).
We woke up the next morning to a nice breakfast of eggs, ham, bread, and tea. Dressed in our ski garb, we were ready to hit the slopes. We cruised to the tunes of R.E.M. cutting through the mountainous terrain in Juli's car (all of us enthused to get outside and play in the snow). However, just around the bend, a Slovakian cop stopped us with his wand. With Juli's help, we eventually figured out that there was a dog race at the ski mountain that afternoon and we weren't allowed to drive any further. We turned around and followed a van full of Hungarians who were going to a different "mountain" to ski. Turns out, the mountain was someone's hilly backyard with tow ropes (and what looked like a lemonade stand at the bottom) Most people were actually sledding. We couldn't rent any equipment, so we headed back to our inn feeling a little defeated as the shadows on the ground became longer and longer. Our disappointment was soothed a little by a nice hearty Slovakian lunch in town. I remember eating a potato pancake filled with beef and chicken (it actually resembled a burrito). We took advantage of the warm restaurant for about 3 hours and questioned whether we would ever get to ski this weekend.
With Chad's exhuberant willingness to talk to the locals, we finally discovered that night skiing was an option. Shaking that post-lunch sluggishness, we threw on our snow-pants, (rain-pants for me) and suited up to ski again. This time, we got past the road blocks and headed for the rental shop. It was now night and snowflakes cluttered the air.
After the inevitable and sometimes tedious task of boot/ski/snowboard fitting, we were unleashed to ski freely on the one lit-up slope. The skiing was refreshing and suddenly my energy returned. There weren't many people on the slope that night, so at one point, I flew down the slope, feeling as though I had the entire thing to myself. The snow and wind got so bad at one point that my entire goggle-less face was coated with icy flakes. I remember thinking to myself, "so this is what it feels like to be a snowman." At this point, we made a pit-stop to warm up and get drinks. The table next to us was occupied by some skiers, one of whom tried to do a John Lennon impression with some sunglasses sitting on the beak of a skiing wooden bird. On the way out, we passed a disco "igloo." In my opinion, this is a great idea! A place to warm up, dance, and quench one's thirst while still near the slopes. That night, shrouded in post-ski exhaustion, we stayed up late talking in our room...laughing at the human-size lamp that gave off minimal light and telling weird childhood stories.
We decided to go skiing for a few hours the next morning so that we could take in the scenery during the day-light and use our skiing muscles a little more. While Chad conquered a slope on his own and without falling down during his first weekend of snowboarding, I made it down a different mountain only ONCE. The top of the mountain stole my breath in more ways than one. First, it was extremely wind-bitingly cold and second, the view was maginificent. The blue sky framed the snowy mountains and forests in that post-card perfect way. Juli and I took pictures at the top...trying to delay the moment when we would have to cut our way down the impossibly steep top of the mountain on our skis. John and Liz had taken off long ago, as if born with skis attached to their feet. Familiar panic entered my stomach, but I knew that it was a decent challenge. Although I did wipe out several times...even doing a record-long slide backwards with skis in air, I made it down that damn mountain. Liz and John had to guide Juli and I down the icy top of the slope. Towards the end of the run, I re-gained a little of my old confidence and felt a pang of jealousy every time I saw a little seven or eight year old kid shoot past on their short fearless legs. Our two hour pass ran out before Juli and I could redeem ourselves on the old slope from last night.
After a quick cafeteria/ski resort style lunch we hit the road back to Budapest. We made it to the city at about 6:15 that night. I hopped a 7pm train back to Szerencs and completely passed out across from a girl who was crying about something. The next morning at school, I told my contact teacher, Etelka, how tired I was (I also had that good ski-sore). She told me, "you might as well do it now, because when you have a family you can't do that type of thing all the time."
A great trip with not as much skiing as I expected...but once again the good company, humor, stories, food, and music didn't fail to make it a favorite weekend of mine.
Driving home from Slovakia last Sunday under an apricot-colored sky, the ski crew made the observation that skiing really was just an obscure tangent to the weekend. This was the point of our journey after all.
Picturesque, but chilly Banska Bystrica
The reason why I love CETP-ers so much is that none of us really gets bent out of shape if, say, someone decides to shoot through the Hungarian/Slovakian border like sporting a toll pass if it appears to be closed. In Chad’s defense, there weren’t many lights on. The only sign of life being the guards that shouted after our car as it raced past the booth, and then again when we tried to reverse, but only succeeded in jerking forward. Luckily, our subtle charm won us entry to Slovakia…or maybe it was just pity for the crazy Americans and one Hungarian in the clown car (we referred to Juli’s car this way because at one point, we had to use Tetris logic to squeeze six of us in).
We managed to arrive in our quiet and calm Slovakian town late at night after an eventful few hours of driving. Juli, Chad, Jillian, Jon, and I were to meet Liz at a nice inn that night...however the woman at the desk didn't seem to understand our situation and it took a good ten minutes of using the group's limited German, pantomimes, and pointing to get her to allow us in Liz's room. We didn't end the night there, but headed out to the only happenin' night spot in town: the Kapitol Pub. We danced to a combination of Anastasia, Natasha Beddingfield, Robbie Williams...oh and for nostalgic purposes: Kriss Kross (Jump).
We woke up the next morning to a nice breakfast of eggs, ham, bread, and tea. Dressed in our ski garb, we were ready to hit the slopes. We cruised to the tunes of R.E.M. cutting through the mountainous terrain in Juli's car (all of us enthused to get outside and play in the snow). However, just around the bend, a Slovakian cop stopped us with his wand. With Juli's help, we eventually figured out that there was a dog race at the ski mountain that afternoon and we weren't allowed to drive any further. We turned around and followed a van full of Hungarians who were going to a different "mountain" to ski. Turns out, the mountain was someone's hilly backyard with tow ropes (and what looked like a lemonade stand at the bottom) Most people were actually sledding. We couldn't rent any equipment, so we headed back to our inn feeling a little defeated as the shadows on the ground became longer and longer. Our disappointment was soothed a little by a nice hearty Slovakian lunch in town. I remember eating a potato pancake filled with beef and chicken (it actually resembled a burrito). We took advantage of the warm restaurant for about 3 hours and questioned whether we would ever get to ski this weekend.
With Chad's exhuberant willingness to talk to the locals, we finally discovered that night skiing was an option. Shaking that post-lunch sluggishness, we threw on our snow-pants, (rain-pants for me) and suited up to ski again. This time, we got past the road blocks and headed for the rental shop. It was now night and snowflakes cluttered the air.
Juli, Jillian, and I should have worn our ski goggles at night.
After the inevitable and sometimes tedious task of boot/ski/snowboard fitting, we were unleashed to ski freely on the one lit-up slope. The skiing was refreshing and suddenly my energy returned. There weren't many people on the slope that night, so at one point, I flew down the slope, feeling as though I had the entire thing to myself. The snow and wind got so bad at one point that my entire goggle-less face was coated with icy flakes. I remember thinking to myself, "so this is what it feels like to be a snowman." At this point, we made a pit-stop to warm up and get drinks. The table next to us was occupied by some skiers, one of whom tried to do a John Lennon impression with some sunglasses sitting on the beak of a skiing wooden bird. On the way out, we passed a disco "igloo." In my opinion, this is a great idea! A place to warm up, dance, and quench one's thirst while still near the slopes. That night, shrouded in post-ski exhaustion, we stayed up late talking in our room...laughing at the human-size lamp that gave off minimal light and telling weird childhood stories.
We decided to go skiing for a few hours the next morning so that we could take in the scenery during the day-light and use our skiing muscles a little more. While Chad conquered a slope on his own and without falling down during his first weekend of snowboarding, I made it down a different mountain only ONCE. The top of the mountain stole my breath in more ways than one. First, it was extremely wind-bitingly cold and second, the view was maginificent. The blue sky framed the snowy mountains and forests in that post-card perfect way. Juli and I took pictures at the top...trying to delay the moment when we would have to cut our way down the impossibly steep top of the mountain on our skis. John and Liz had taken off long ago, as if born with skis attached to their feet. Familiar panic entered my stomach, but I knew that it was a decent challenge. Although I did wipe out several times...even doing a record-long slide backwards with skis in air, I made it down that damn mountain. Liz and John had to guide Juli and I down the icy top of the slope. Towards the end of the run, I re-gained a little of my old confidence and felt a pang of jealousy every time I saw a little seven or eight year old kid shoot past on their short fearless legs. Our two hour pass ran out before Juli and I could redeem ourselves on the old slope from last night.
The most colorful and fun store front I've ever seen.
After a quick cafeteria/ski resort style lunch we hit the road back to Budapest. We made it to the city at about 6:15 that night. I hopped a 7pm train back to Szerencs and completely passed out across from a girl who was crying about something. The next morning at school, I told my contact teacher, Etelka, how tired I was (I also had that good ski-sore). She told me, "you might as well do it now, because when you have a family you can't do that type of thing all the time."
A great trip with not as much skiing as I expected...but once again the good company, humor, stories, food, and music didn't fail to make it a favorite weekend of mine.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
What About Groundhog Day?
Did he see his shadow or what? I'm fairly certain that the Szerencsi groundhog WILL definitely be predicting six more weeks of winter. It has just gotten to the point where I can walk outside and be able to feel my legs when I get home. Just a few days ago, I almost panicked on the iced over sidewalk when a lock of my hair appeared white! Apparently I was breathing on it and it had frosted over. And I thought I was aging too quickly from all these last minute Hungarian business operations.
I have hit a wall in lesson planning. What to do with my 3rd year class? What to do what to do? Ahhhhhhhh!! I hate moments like these. I thought about doing a groundhog day lesson (but that would be too retro...teaching a lesson on Phil...one day later!).
Well, just have to get through one more day and then I'm off to stretch my legs in the mountains of Slovakia skiing! It's about time I broke out of cabin fever.
I have hit a wall in lesson planning. What to do with my 3rd year class? What to do what to do? Ahhhhhhhh!! I hate moments like these. I thought about doing a groundhog day lesson (but that would be too retro...teaching a lesson on Phil...one day later!).
Well, just have to get through one more day and then I'm off to stretch my legs in the mountains of Slovakia skiing! It's about time I broke out of cabin fever.
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