Tuesday was a mix which turned horrible around 4pm. Had a good, but short, run in the morning due to really bad weather and blisters acting up. Gotta break in my runners again. I also got two great hours of practice in before Kórus at noon. Met two more basses, Árpád and Matti, who were both very friendly and helpful. Árpád told me he likes to sing in kórus because, "the menu is good to look at." Heh heh. Hungarians cracking jokes in English. Almost as tacky as my Hungarian jokes.

(I'm trying to translate this one: Descartes walks into a bar, and the bartender asks if he'd like something to drink. Descartes replies, "I think not", and disappears!)

On my way home I decided to finally invest in a Hungarian dictionary which covers more than the basics of my phrasebook (which has proved invaluable during my time here). This is the point where my day goes from good to horrible.

I will make this very, very short because I don't want to re-live it.

1) I buy a big dictionary in Libra, a Hungarian chain bookstore, a branch of which is by the bus stop near our apartment. Mistake number one is realized halfway home, that it is only Hungarian to English, and I need both ways.

2) I go to return the book, and realize that I didn't have the receipt. I spend ten minutes checking pockets, but finally in defeat I buy the companion dictionary - English to Hungarian - another 4400 forints.

3) I find the first receipt in a puddle on my way home. With elation that I'll get my 8800 forints back and a more useful book, I return to Libra, only to be told...

4) Absolutely no returns on anything ever. Only exchange. Apparently this is the way most things are in Hungary.

I used the curse section of my phrasebook at that point. What am I gonna buy with 8800 (about 40 bucks) in a Hungarian bookstore?

I'll stop there because I'm getting angry thinking about that shopkeeper and that stupid little half-grin that said "I'm trying very hard not to laugh at you." I can understand that expression in any language. I showed up late to my philosophy class and spent the rest of the day cooling down. Music History with Paul Merrick is a good one for that, because he's very entertaining. He paces during the entire lecture, and frequently looks out the window in a kind of John Nash sorta way.

Let's go to my good day, shall we? It was today, Tuesday, 'Kedd' in Hungarian. Wednesday is the only day of the week of which the emigration office sees only students, and is has been on Wednesday for the last two weeks that I have gone there and walked away without a residence permit. I did my homework this week (and last week too, but no matter). As my previous entry says, I needed the signature of Émoké's parents in order to complete my application. I got her mother's a few days ago (Mrs. László also yelled at us in German, Hungarian and a little English for having clothes on the heater), along with an official document stating that the father was dead. At the office, when called to the window promptly at 8:30, I handed all the papers to the woman at the desk in a manner which demanded approval for a permit. Ten minutes later, with those same documents covered in ink stamps, I was whistling happy tunes to myself while shopping for cereal in the Tesco across the road. I go back next week to pick up my permit...

... Which is only useful if I get arrested, I think. But whatever.

The rest of my day was spent in the hársona (trombone) room at school. I've grown very comfortable there. I have bought some food for the community to compliment the stock of teas and mugs already there, and am now leaving my trombone there overnight so I don't have to lug it home. Today I made a copy of the room key (everyone in the studio has a key), and stayed in the room all afternoon and evening practicing trombone and piano, and studying Hungarian. I've gotten much closer with Balázs, Eszter and Renáta, the people I met on my first visit to the academy. Balázs is an extremely talented musician. He just won a brass competition hosted at Liszt Ferenc, and got a big scholarship. Eszter and Renáta are also killer players, and very sweet. While I had my nose buried in the book, they would frequently join me and check my work. We would find things to talk about (where are you from, what do you like to do, etc.) in Hungarian, and whenever I want to try words out, they help with pronunciation and grammar and such. If there is a single reason for me wanting to learn to speak better in Hungarian, it is so I can better communicate with these wonderful people.

Émoké visits Wednesday morning to collect rent (and bring joy and sunshine to our cloudy lives, needless to say). Must. Sleep. Now. I'm up way past my bedtime, which is now 10pm.

Jó éjszakát!