I would like to take this time to complain...

Finally, in the warmth of my over-flowered apartment on the edge of Szerencs, I can calmly reflect on the day’s atrocities.

I went to sleep on Sunday reveling in overall happiness upon returning from a visit to a friend, Magdi, in Gödöllő near Budapest. Below is Sisi’s (Elizabeth) castle. Magdi’s husband graciously took his time taking the picture to get the perfect angle and lighting, much to my appreciation. Although, my darned eyes are closed once again!
But the night brought wind…wind that reminded me of my college days in central Illinois where the wind between certain dormitories made you swear you could feel it beneath your feet about to lift you up and away somewhere into a distant cornfield.

I believe the wind metaphorically entered my head and tossed things around, because on Monday morning, I was NOT happy. My first two classes went okay today, but the next three just pissed me off. The kids weren’t necessarily all that bad, but regardless, I was a monster. I collected notes with a sinister glee and arranged them on my desk in a wonderful pile. I sat down next to kids who weren’t writing anything down when told and asked them if their hands were broken or tormented them until they were forced to scribble. Today, I didn’t care if I humiliated, scared, or even made the kids sad.

As a beginning question, I asked 6ab to tell me what the weather was like today. One girl said, “snowy and windy.” I said, “What? Snow? No it’s just windy…I think the snow is fin (pausing to look out the window)…oh wow, you’re right it is snowing…again” Bleck.

At the last lesson, my 7th graders couldn’t seem to understand my simple request to read the poem that they had written on the board as a class. After my impatience had taken its toll upon seeing kids making paperclip creatures, staring out the window or laughing with each other, I felt it was time for a speech…

The “speech” was easy in American classrooms. The kids understood you because you spoke English and they spoke English. Here, it is a different story. But, like I said before, today I didn’t care if they understood or not. I paused, leaned on the table, and glared around the room wearing the stoniest face I could muster. Started off with, “Just because I don’t speak Hungarian doesn’t give you the right to disrespect me…blah blah blah blah…” and I think they understood because they all sat there without saying a word. When you don’t speak the language, you have to play up the gesturing, facial expressions, and tone…so maybe that did it. I then stated, “Now does someone wanna tell me about your holiday on the 15th of March or do you wanna write about it for homework?” Someone timidly chimed, “Yes.” Okay, so they didn’t get it all.

I marched back to the teacher room to get my coat and got the hell outta there. Next stop, grocery shopping at Spar. By this point, the wind had some hefty snow to play with. My anger based adrenaline allowed me to storm through the wind and snow like a soldier.

All ready to check out…and I just happen to get behind two ladies with a cart stacked up to the ceiling. They bought every spice, every ingredient, every brand of beer, every vegetable, and every carton of yogurt in the whole godforsaken store. I thought to myself, “is there something about this snowstorm that I don’t know about?” So, I waited for about fifteen minutes, watching the snow come down harder, and cars sliding around the round-about. Equipped with some of those Kinder-Hippos as comfort food, I headed back out into the March winter. This time, the snow stabbed my face like icy nails and I had to walk home with one eye closed, hunched over, so that I appeared an injured pirate. I could only wish for a parrot on my shoulder. The walk home seemed to last an eternity (at this point, my writing has become cathartic even though I feel as though I’ve crossed the line in blog complaining.)

After passing stalled semis on the streets, and stumbling over the dune like snow mounds that the winds had carved and whittled, I practically fell into my apartment with an exhausted whimper. My fingers and face were bright red and soaking wet. I threw off the gloves and warmed them over my bathroom heater…but they burned so badly from the cold that I had to sit there and nurse them for a good ten minutes.

Everything turned around after enjoying a Hippo candy and crashing on the couch with my hot tea.
Now I’m better, but the wind is still here. I don’t know how those dogs sit out in it.