absentee blogger

So I haven't blogged in awhile. I think this is because I've actually been busy, out and about in the crazy world of Budapest, and haven't had the time or inclination. In fact, as I type this I discover that my typing has changed, that it's difficult for me to make the proper punctuation as I have grown used to the Hungarian keypad at my job.

Job is going great by the way. If anyone is having trouble with otherwise sweet colleagues treating them sort of like idiots, and they are actually as sweet as mine are, I highly recommend inviting them to a festive holiday, then tipsily informing them that they treat you like an idiot. This has had stellar results for me. In the past week and a half I've gotten to grade tests, give actual feedback, offer opinions, discipline children in an effective manner, and plan my own material. I've also been actually informed of what's going on around me and invited to join the school choir. I feel like my new confidence is emanating from me. More people smile at me, talk to me, make a visible and obviously painful effort not to giggle at my attempts at Hungarian. And I have finally won my attempt at friendship with my poor stalkee, whom I still know actually nothing about, but who now talks to me, smiles, asks me how I am, kvetches a little bit to me. I love it.

My other job is equally lovely. This month's term I have been teaching American accent training, essentially to three lovely boys, all of whom are earnest and funny. This is good because the class can fall to the ridiculous, as we all go "ah. ah. ah." and "couja?" at each other. I have to say that I was a little bit nervous, as an American, to be a teacher at a school servicing almost entirely middle Eastern, Muslim students. Yet, I have gotten nothing but respect and kindness from them. It's a little strange to have one student meet you at the office to carry your things to the class, then have the rest of the students jump to their feet when you enter the room, provide you with functioning dry-erase markers, laugh at the appropriate times and work at the appropriate times, do their work, and then carry your materials back to the office for you. And they're absolutely fascinated by the funny things we do with our language, and by the pieces of culture that sneak into such a class without fail. And share theirs with me. And I love it.

Wille, my private student, just took his midterms. His family fed me a lovely dinner when I last went there on Tuesday and gave me a very generous little Christmas bonus. And I walk back down the hill from his house, looking at Parliament far below, lit against the nighttime sky, and I sing along to my Ipod, and I am always, always, profoundly happy in these moments.

On Saturday I finally went dancing, really dancing, not just sort of shuffling in a corner somewhere. And the music was cheesy and fantastic, but there is just something I have to share with you, my dear readers, for your own edification and entertainment. Should you, ladies, ever be dancing in a club in Hungary and get violently rammed into by a gentleman's booty, to the level that it almost knocks you over... never fear. You are not in anyone's way! Rather, this is the Hungarian male's mating dance. That's right, boys, when in central Europe and looking at a pretty girl, do not approach her with a smile and a hello. Just try to knock her over with your ass.

She'll love it, I swear.