Osztaly buli

So about three weeks ago Balint was handed a letter addressed to him and me. Oddly enough, it is not super unusual that we get mail together addressed to him, which he then has to translate for me, so I didn't really think much of it. A few days passed, and I remembered the letter, so I hunted him down and asked what it said. Of course he had forgotten its existence, so he dug it out of his backpack and proceeded to do a live-action translation, always a fun experience. The jist was that there would be a class party for 2C, a picnic on the 16th, and we were invited. He whined about losing a Saturday's worth of work, and I panicked at the concept of spending a full day surrounded by people who only mostly spoke Hungarian.

"Well, if you go, I'll go too," Balint offered. At my questioning look, he started stammering, "Well, I mean, maybe I'll go if you don't, I'm just saying, um..."
"Aww, you're offering to protect me!"
"No, um, I mean, uristen (God)..." flustered march off to hide in the fortress of solitude.

Then it turned out that this party turned into a "thing" after the 2C class teacher took offense at what she felt was undue pressure to surrender one of her Saturdays and, essentially, scolded the parents. So there was drama, of course, and during the parent teacher conferences two weeks ago Balint asked me why I was afraid to go. And then I realized exactly that, that I was actually afraid to go and deal with this, because I figured it would wind up being super-awkward for me. So I decided to stop being a wimp and suck it up and go. And spent two weeks of Hungarian lessons preparing for the thing.

So yesterday was the class party. And it was actually really lovely. I mean, were there moments where I wound up by myself, sitting awkwardly? Yes, of course. But the thing did last for like 9 hours so that's only to be expected. Mostly I actually had fun. I played with the children, spoke horrible Hungarian with some parents and really lovely English with others, was force-fed no less than 20 pogacsa (little salty cheese rolls), participated in relay-races, and was thanked profusely for actually coming. And Balint did a lovely job about, well, protecting me in his own awkward little way. So yes, I was sort of treated like an exotic species, stared at curiously and given something of a wide berth. But everyone was really nice, and just so, well, shy around me.

And it got me thinking that while there are certainly rude Hungarians, maybe their rudeness is simply how they deal with awkwardness. I deal with it by hiding, speaking overly quietly, and laughing nervously. Maybe they deal with it by scowling. And maybe all these Hungarians are just as scared of me as I am of them. Except, of course, for the nenis, who are actually just terrifying meanies.

Cultural differences are so funny. Not funny haha, but funny strange. They are difficult to predict or notice and even more difficult to understand. But the more I experience this crazy place, which is really just so much more different from America than it seems at first glance, the more I realize that we are all so different and we are all so much the same. We're just the same in different ways. And I know that makes no sense. But it's true, at least for me, at least right now.