A group of us gathered for sausage fest with Gaines. It was a wonderful time. We ate plenty of sausages made from variousthings I imagine. The most intertaining part of the evening aside from the random making out witnessed at a near by disco, was that of a young musitian and his female companion. First we must discuss the type of teenager we are dealing with. He is a lead singer, who on occation has been known to stand on his organ and jump off, have his shirt accidentally fall off, and make love to the microphone stand. Well after his colorful 27th oncore, he found a young lady in the crowd who, my commitators and I hope was a friend already. She with one leg hiked on stage opened up for this young sweaty man stating 'oh you are so hot when your shirt falls off and you wear really tight stone washed pants'. And they proceed to have a moment of seven displaying for all to see their affection for one another. It was wonderful. It almost made it worth the trouble of getting to a small town on a national holiday.
Coming home from sausage fest is where the real adventure lies. All was going as planned when I walked to my first train station and made it to Szolnok with Emily and Chad. We found the one place open to eat McDonalds. Leave it to an American chain to not celebrate a holiday, but we did not mind it was the only food we were going to eat for the day. This is at like 1 in the aftenoon mind you. So I then proceed to my next destination which should have been nirigyhaza. I was told no for the first time that day, and told to boarda train going to Hatvan and that is whereI woould transfer to Miskolcs. Did it all is going fairly well but long because of the holiday I had to take all of the slow transportation. So in Miskolsc and due to thedarkness I decide it would be safer to take the bus. I go to boeard the number two tram and get told no again. So I decide I can walk to the nearest bus stop. I missed the bus to my village by two minutes. The next was at 10 53 and it was only 8 or so. I walk back to the train station and ask information which train goes through hernádnémeti, i was told there was only one the one heading toward tiszaujvaros. well anyone who thinks about it would think that was crazy so I asked her again and she said yes and only that one. I board the train. The ticket master did not sayI was on the wrong train, but luck would have it that that train never went to my village. The last sotop comes and I am getting out and ask the conductor where am I? He says some random town and asked me where I want to be. I state the name of my village and he laughs. Tells me to get back on the train and he will take me all the way back to Miskolcs. At this point it is around 10. I think oh idea my friend liz lives in the town over, i will stay with her. Luck has it again and she is out of town for the night and her flat is locked. She calls a friend and has her father meet me at the train station. He allows me to stay in his son's flat and lizcomes for me the next morning. We walk to the bus station and I have missedthe last bus going to my village until 3, I teach at 11 50. I seethere is one going to Böcs the town next to me and it leaves now!!! I think fast jump on and make it to Böcs at 10, I walk home and change into dress clothes by 11 15 and have time to spare. Good things always happen to me.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
It is not always what you think!
I would like to state that the spell check on the computer is not working and since living in a world were we spell phenetically I am sure there are many mis spellings, but as I do with my students I overlook the gramatical errors and look and fluency and understanding.
Upon reading an e mail from my friend Yerik about his pleasant meal of liver in the Hungarian cafeteria, I started thinking of all the things we think we are eating and it turns out to be something very different. I think Liz can understand this from her adventure in Kalocsa where she bought the lovely cow intestions which were horrible. Those who took a taste can vouge that they were real hard to chew and going down the felt somewhat like a catipillar crawling down your throught. My sister once had an experience eating a catipillar once when she was one. Our friend Mike had placed a jar in her playpen on a camping trip. She always was a clever one and found a way of opening the jar and eating the fuzzy little creature. To say the least it was the last time she ate red meat.
So as I was saying about my appearance in the world, to no suprise to my mother I was delivered by means of a seasarian section. My mom knew this because my sister, the catipillar eater, decided if anything she would jump into this world feet first. So I am here and I am heading to my new home with my family.
My home was a small and wonderfully colored house. Since this home I have always dispised the color pink. It is not fair to say that I hate pink because of this house it might in fact be because of an ugly episode later in life while wearinga brand new pink wind breaker. Anyways this home treated me well and next to this ink dwelling lied the dark brown home of my best and favorite childhood friend Hans. We had many good times together playing in the tree house hiding from our sisters. I was three and together we were anxiously awaiting the arrival of our new siblings to join us in our thirst for adventure. And to take the place of the easy target that the youngest always seems to be labled with. Hiding was key for Hans and I because our sisters Amie and Sarah were clever and tricky. "Hey Laura I have some really good chocolate milk, would you like a taste"? Boy would I I thought as Hans and I raced down the tree. You see from the events of my birth I was always troubled with breathing problems and milk sometimes aggrivated my breathing so it was not often that I could be seen drinking chocolate milk. I often saw the other kids drinking chocolate milk and longed for a taste and in my excitement I ran up to Amie and Sarah. I grabbed the brown filled cup and thrust it to my mouth letting the liquid pour into my mouth. It was chunky and hard to swallow but at last I recieved the taste I was searching for and quickly spit it out. Yuck!! This is it this is what I was wating for? Hans also tried the potion and exclained,"This is not chocolate milk this is mud". I was heart broken as the girls ran away laughing and shrieking the way only girls can. Hans and I returned to our tree house fort where we waited for Paderick, Hans' older brother to plan our counter attack.
Upon reading an e mail from my friend Yerik about his pleasant meal of liver in the Hungarian cafeteria, I started thinking of all the things we think we are eating and it turns out to be something very different. I think Liz can understand this from her adventure in Kalocsa where she bought the lovely cow intestions which were horrible. Those who took a taste can vouge that they were real hard to chew and going down the felt somewhat like a catipillar crawling down your throught. My sister once had an experience eating a catipillar once when she was one. Our friend Mike had placed a jar in her playpen on a camping trip. She always was a clever one and found a way of opening the jar and eating the fuzzy little creature. To say the least it was the last time she ate red meat.
So as I was saying about my appearance in the world, to no suprise to my mother I was delivered by means of a seasarian section. My mom knew this because my sister, the catipillar eater, decided if anything she would jump into this world feet first. So I am here and I am heading to my new home with my family.
My home was a small and wonderfully colored house. Since this home I have always dispised the color pink. It is not fair to say that I hate pink because of this house it might in fact be because of an ugly episode later in life while wearinga brand new pink wind breaker. Anyways this home treated me well and next to this ink dwelling lied the dark brown home of my best and favorite childhood friend Hans. We had many good times together playing in the tree house hiding from our sisters. I was three and together we were anxiously awaiting the arrival of our new siblings to join us in our thirst for adventure. And to take the place of the easy target that the youngest always seems to be labled with. Hiding was key for Hans and I because our sisters Amie and Sarah were clever and tricky. "Hey Laura I have some really good chocolate milk, would you like a taste"? Boy would I I thought as Hans and I raced down the tree. You see from the events of my birth I was always troubled with breathing problems and milk sometimes aggrivated my breathing so it was not often that I could be seen drinking chocolate milk. I often saw the other kids drinking chocolate milk and longed for a taste and in my excitement I ran up to Amie and Sarah. I grabbed the brown filled cup and thrust it to my mouth letting the liquid pour into my mouth. It was chunky and hard to swallow but at last I recieved the taste I was searching for and quickly spit it out. Yuck!! This is it this is what I was wating for? Hans also tried the potion and exclained,"This is not chocolate milk this is mud". I was heart broken as the girls ran away laughing and shrieking the way only girls can. Hans and I returned to our tree house fort where we waited for Paderick, Hans' older brother to plan our counter attack.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
where has all the time gone?
So this last weekend I spent with a wonderful group of Hungarian teachers on a little jaunt to Göndölő, a well known castle district. It was very interesting yet I was lost because the tour was in Hungarian, and I understood about a fourth of it. Anyway I was presented with a tour booklet with some english written into it and used that to get the history behind the areas in which we were looking. We also saw a horse show where a man showed us how the Hungarians used to battle and the way it is a little different from the techniques used by master bow men today. As I was watching a little cat climbed and sat upon my lap. He nuzzled his head into my legs for warmth and made himself comfortable and enjoyed the horse show in my company. I am not fond of cats but the always seem to find me it is in their nature I suppose.
Well upon my arrival back to my flat I realized it was near nine at night and we had left at eight that morning the time flew I was having such a great time. The teachers broke open the first bottle of palenka and cracked the first beer by 8 30, so I was drunk by about 10, you do not refuse liquer from a hungarian they will have non of it. Sunday flew too before I knew it it was time to make some lesson plans and hurry off to bed. I feel that time is moving too quickly if I blink my trip will beover. I need to slow my role and enjoy my time for all its worth. I am sorry to say there will not be a clever story this time, I haveto teach the kids, but I promise a good one for next time.
Well upon my arrival back to my flat I realized it was near nine at night and we had left at eight that morning the time flew I was having such a great time. The teachers broke open the first bottle of palenka and cracked the first beer by 8 30, so I was drunk by about 10, you do not refuse liquer from a hungarian they will have non of it. Sunday flew too before I knew it it was time to make some lesson plans and hurry off to bed. I feel that time is moving too quickly if I blink my trip will beover. I need to slow my role and enjoy my time for all its worth. I am sorry to say there will not be a clever story this time, I haveto teach the kids, but I promise a good one for next time.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Daily Routines
For the last few weeks my students and I have been discussing daily routines or in their case napirend. As we are talking about what time they get up and when they do what it is they do all day I began thinking or daydreaming rather, because I think I have ADD and no one told me, anyway I began thinking. I think about how it is getting harder and harder for me to get up in the morning. Is this due to the weather or amI getting lazy with my challenging schedule? At any rate I know it is not due to lack of sleep because in the week I go to bed no later than 10, and sometimes I even fit in a nap. Napping reminds me of siesta a clever name given to the naps we had a camp. Which then makes me think of my past daily routines and how I like this so much better. Some may have heard this story but because it just gained me enterance to a writting program I would like to enter it into my blogger report it I may, and I know I may because this is my damn blogger so there.
After I lay awhile and wake up I start my morning routine. It is very repititious for I do this every morning. I slowly, and I mean sloth like, I slink under my bug net and begin the task of changing from my sleepwear into my really stylish camos and a T shirt usually reading soething obscure like Do Not Lick Frozen Flag Poles. This is exspecially amuzing die to the fact it is Georgia. I guess they need to be told not to lick frozen flag poles because it would be an unusual phenomenom to have the temperature drop low enough to have it freeze anything. After I have placed on my socks and hiking boos I slowly stumple toward THE BOX.
Ahh the box, the most feared adventure for the boys and chiefs alike. A boy would hold it up to a week before entering this toilet of doom. The smell itself is enough to purm anyones nose hairs not to mention the creepy crawly things that have made a home in what lies beneath. Flashlight in hand I open the think wooden door, I light the area scanning for any sudden movement that could be slithering or crawling about the inner cavity of the box. After the area is secure I quickly get down to buisness, run out rapidly to inhale the morning's fresh air. It is a relief, fresh air ahh.
I am so lucky to be away from that and living in a cute little village of Hernádnémeti, where instead of the box I have roosters and cows which sometimes produce a stench as putrid as the box, but I have the plesure of hiding in my wonderful flat listening to music and watching BBC.
After I lay awhile and wake up I start my morning routine. It is very repititious for I do this every morning. I slowly, and I mean sloth like, I slink under my bug net and begin the task of changing from my sleepwear into my really stylish camos and a T shirt usually reading soething obscure like Do Not Lick Frozen Flag Poles. This is exspecially amuzing die to the fact it is Georgia. I guess they need to be told not to lick frozen flag poles because it would be an unusual phenomenom to have the temperature drop low enough to have it freeze anything. After I have placed on my socks and hiking boos I slowly stumple toward THE BOX.
Ahh the box, the most feared adventure for the boys and chiefs alike. A boy would hold it up to a week before entering this toilet of doom. The smell itself is enough to purm anyones nose hairs not to mention the creepy crawly things that have made a home in what lies beneath. Flashlight in hand I open the think wooden door, I light the area scanning for any sudden movement that could be slithering or crawling about the inner cavity of the box. After the area is secure I quickly get down to buisness, run out rapidly to inhale the morning's fresh air. It is a relief, fresh air ahh.
I am so lucky to be away from that and living in a cute little village of Hernádnémeti, where instead of the box I have roosters and cows which sometimes produce a stench as putrid as the box, but I have the plesure of hiding in my wonderful flat listening to music and watching BBC.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Living through the eyes of Laura
This is my new means of informing those I am close to as well as those who I only pretend about my adventures. This is the first time I have done this some might say that I am infact a virgin blogger. As i sat down to create the perfect first entry my hands started to get sweaty with fear that all will be disappointed and will not want to read about ly life. It may not be interesting to all so my fingers start tremblimg and the letters become jumbled exspecially because I am still hesitating my typing strokes due to the backwards way the keyboard is set up. Well friends and family here it goes no stopping know I am on my way to a brand new adventure.
I arrived in the small and quite town on Hernádnémeti not long ago approxamately a month and am enjoying the small pleasures of city life but let me go back to the beginning. On a quet night on June 21, 1979 a yong couple tucked in their first born to the pleasures of toddler dreams. They shut the door and move quietly down the stairs carefull not to wake the little one. They take their usuall nightly positions in the livingroom, the man in his rocking chair reading of politics and religion while listening to the moving sounds of his latest big band record, and his wife in her soft chair picking up her knitting where it left off and dreamoing of the little one that is to come who is growing so strong inside her. As she is finishing her knit pearl sequence she grimmices and thinks to herself I told Ed not to cook the meat so spicey I knew I would have heartburn. Ed looks up from his book and questions is everything okay dear to get the reply yes but it was too spicey. To say the least it was not heartburn aching in my mother it was me impatiently wanting to get out of the cramped quarters I had been residing in the last few months. Grandma was called to watch after my sister and my mother and father hurried to deliver me their precious laura. It was not an easy thing to do, I never can do things the easy way I always try to challange myself in everything even birth. In my impatient temper I sucked down some embionic fluid during the sea section and landed myself in a plastic box for the first moments in life. I guess the best things do go to the ones who wait. I however did not wait and put my parents through some un needed worries which I will be doing more in my next few years. Laura Jo Stigen welcome to the world. The end
I arrived in the small and quite town on Hernádnémeti not long ago approxamately a month and am enjoying the small pleasures of city life but let me go back to the beginning. On a quet night on June 21, 1979 a yong couple tucked in their first born to the pleasures of toddler dreams. They shut the door and move quietly down the stairs carefull not to wake the little one. They take their usuall nightly positions in the livingroom, the man in his rocking chair reading of politics and religion while listening to the moving sounds of his latest big band record, and his wife in her soft chair picking up her knitting where it left off and dreamoing of the little one that is to come who is growing so strong inside her. As she is finishing her knit pearl sequence she grimmices and thinks to herself I told Ed not to cook the meat so spicey I knew I would have heartburn. Ed looks up from his book and questions is everything okay dear to get the reply yes but it was too spicey. To say the least it was not heartburn aching in my mother it was me impatiently wanting to get out of the cramped quarters I had been residing in the last few months. Grandma was called to watch after my sister and my mother and father hurried to deliver me their precious laura. It was not an easy thing to do, I never can do things the easy way I always try to challange myself in everything even birth. In my impatient temper I sucked down some embionic fluid during the sea section and landed myself in a plastic box for the first moments in life. I guess the best things do go to the ones who wait. I however did not wait and put my parents through some un needed worries which I will be doing more in my next few years. Laura Jo Stigen welcome to the world. The end
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Welcome to Blogging
Hey Laura! Welcome to blogging. I hope to read about many an adventure here. Emily.
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