The Catch 22 of Magyar

Even though this entry may be a bit obvious…I just needed to get it down on paper (okay cyber paper).

Living in Hungary has been a roller coaster of good and bad days, although I will say that there have been far more good days and the bad ones I chalk up to a learning experience. They are bound to crop up from time to time and luckily I can take them with a grain of salt.

I’m having one of those days where I am fed up with Hungarian…the language. And let the story unfold…

Today, for the third time this week, I went in search for contact solution. I have had to re-use the same solution for four days now as the “Optika” shop has been mysteriously closed. If I could read the scrawled Hungarian on the door, I would know why, but instead, I just make one up: i.e. we have permanently run out of contact solution therefore we’re closed…or we don’t feel like coming to work today, sorry.

Knowing that I couldn’t go one more day with the used residue sitting in my contact case, I decided to jaunt to Miskolc, the bigger town about 20 km west of Szerencs. As I am sitting in my train car reading my latest novel, “A Journey Round My Skull” by Frigyes Karinthy, nonetheless, Hungarian literature, a smiley older woman comes in and assumedly asks if she can sit down in my car. I over-gesture, “YES.” After some time, she starts talking to me regardless of my lack of response. As I’m finally able to tell her that I don’t understand much Hungarian, she continues to speak to me in Hungarian, as I have spoken three words of her language. I must know more! After many a “nem ertem” she asks if I’m Slovak. Then there is a pause and she throws her hands up in the air, gesturing to the cars around us and shaking her head….”something something Roma something.”

“Ah ertem,” I say nodding. And then, not particularly because the “gypsies” were too loud for me, but because I was excited that I knew a word that I could contribute, I nodded again and said, “Igen, hangos.”

The ticket woman comes to our car and looks at my beloved teacher train card, which gives me a 50% discount on all my train rides. Her face contorts into near shock and she starts spewing Hungarian. Again to which I imagine a scenario: your card has expired…why haven’t you renewed it? Or you look very similar to the vagabond train criminal we’ve been searching for!

Eventually I arrive in rainy Miskolc and hide under my red umbrella. At last I blend in with other umbrella-toting people. No longer under speculation, I can finally be anonymous in this fairly large Hungarian city. I go to the first pharmacy to ask about contact solution. Sidenote: you can only get contact solution in pharmacies or optical shops. Just like the pharmacy in Szerencs, the woman shakes her head with an apologetic smile, “Nincs.” I had even brought my old bottle (to which I’ve been desperately clinging trying to get out every last drop). Defeated again, I stuffed it back in my bag and headed to the other mall.

Fortunately, Szinvapark had some and I breathed a sigh of relief after leaving the optician shop. I have never been so happy to find a bottle of contact solution in my life.

After perusing the mall for a map of Slovenia/Croatia and miniature shampoos, sunscreens, and toothpastes for my upcoming trip, I headed back to the train station. Too scared to use my teacher pass, I paid full fare. On the way home, a woman tried to make conversation with me…and this time I was starting to feel irritated with myself for not understanding yet again. She gave me a little bit of an annoyed glance or maybe I was just imagining again. For the rest of the trip, she and her son crunched incessantly on sunflower seeds, which couldn’t have been worse than fingernails on a chalkboard.

On my walk home from the train station, I decided that I’ve had it with Hungarian for the day. Most days, I like listening to the musical banter in the teacher’s room, trying to pick up what I can and at other times, it’s just nice background noise. Some days, I stop in the middle of the street and utterly cannot believe I’m in Hungary, or in a classroom teaching English to Hungarian students. I get a wave of adrenaline and happiness. I’m immersed in the culture, learning everyday. Most days, I have this attitude…

Other days, I drown in frustration and want to hide under the blankets in my bed with a good English book and English music. So, you can’t have one without the other. There’s bound to be frustration and you can’t feel the rewards of cultural immersion without battling some tough days here and there.

They usually tend to be rainy days…

On a different note, I am spring break/Croatia-bound tomorrow after my lessons! I couldn’t be more excited to see my fellow natives/American travel companions and wander across borders once again. It’s a no-fail mood-lifter.

Keep you posted on the trip….time to pack!