It’s Saturday. There is no tanoda (the Bible/school teaching we do with the kids every Saturday)
I went for a walk along the river and met a shepherd and his flock
and so I could sleep in and was very much looking forward to turning into a bump on a log for the day. Of course, I can’t seem to sleep past 8:30 now. It’s been cooling off here. I mean, it’s still above zero, but you have to understand that homes in the village aren’t heated in the same way as back home, nice and cozy warm all the time with automatic temperature adjustment.
Many homes, mine included, are old (cement, often, which seems to hold in the cold) and often wood-heated, and so if there isn’t a fire burning, it is quite cool… not conducive sleeping-in. Last night I wore a touque, long johns and three pairs of socks to bed. But this morning, when I woke up, the young man responsible for lighting the fire to heat the house during the week had already been by, the radiator was—well—radiating, and my room was toasty warm. There is something awfully cozy about wood-heating. And I think you appreciate the warmth so much more than if it is generated by simply turning a dial on the wall.
Back to my day, having a free Saturday, I slept in until 9:30, got a coffee and curled up to watch Chocolat (or Csokoladé, in Hungarian). I watched it a couple months ago with Erzsi (the pastor) and her daughter Evi. There is a big bin of movies at the grocery store right now, and the other day, I ran into Erzsi at the grocery store and she showed me that the film we’d watched was among those in the bin. She handed it to me--I figured it was because she thought I might want to buy it, since I enjoyed the movie so much. But as it turns out, when I went to the till, the girl there said, “oh Erzsi already paid for the movie for you.” It was so sweet of her.
Anyway, my day hasn’t been quite as private or quiet as I anticipated. I was called partway into the movie and asked to make a calendar for a departing employee, so I darted over to the office for a while. Such is the nature of this kind of service. It’s not a 9 to 5 job, but rather a lifestyle. Your life is very much intertwined with your “work.” For the most part, I don’t mind that feature. Sometimes, I spend a weekday afternoon baking cookies, or mushroom picking, or walking alongside the river. Sometimes, I find myself doing a task on the computer long into the evening or working over the weekend. It all balances out.
I came back from working on the calendar to find bicycles parked in front of the house. Apparently the village self-government (I guess what you’d equate to the town council) was meeting in our dining room. I was a bit embarrassed. I didn’t know there was going to be an event held there today and this morning, “getting ready” consisted of rolling out of bed and throwing on a sweater and sweatpants. So encountering strangers in the dining room when I hadn’t even brushed my hair was a bit of a surprise. What’s more, there was still a giant mess from the Christmas party I had for the English class last night. But fortunately, Angéla, with whom I live and who attends the English class, had cleaned up the party mess already, and the hardworking self-government employees meet in what resembles coveralls more than a suit, so my rumpled appearance was probably not overly offensive to them. I fed them sugar cookies from the night before (in part as a thank-you since one of them got the fire going again for me, as I had forgotten about it). In fact, the very gregarious leader of the self-government (mayor?) invited me to sit in on the meeting. I declined (I sat through an entire city council meeting all in Norwegian when I was studying in Bodø, and it was, shall we say, one of the less engaging experiences of my time there, as I probably understood even less Norwegian than I do Hungarian.)
As I mentioned, yesterday my adult English class had a Christmas party. We sang Christmas carols in English, ate sugar cookies (my mom’s recipe), played the try-to-unwrap-this-party-gift-wearing-big-mittens game, and watched How The Grinch Stole Christmas. I love how these things that are so ordinary to me seem so new and unusual to Hungarians. It makes it fun to share things about where I come from with the people here. I never thought I’d hear chocolate chip cookies referred to as “Canadian pastry.” I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing last week at the Advent service when a young boy, standing with his parents, turned one of the chocolate chip cookies over in his hands, observing it curiously before taking a bit and finally proclaiming “jó” (good) with a satisfied shrug. I really enjoyed the festivities of last evening and the others seemed to as well. They were eager to learn English carols (though I found myself at a loss to explain some of the Old English to them), cheered enthusiastically during the game, made a good dent in the plates of cookies, and chuckled at all the right parts during the movie.
Even if I am getting into a routine, I'm not bored! Today is an example of how even a lazy day is interesting in its own right. Beyond that, I am finidng that there is so much to learn: from the language, to Hungarian handicraft, to cooking with a propane stove and stoking the fire to heat my room myself. I'm very much enjoying the rich variety of life here and the chance to learn so many new things!
