Crunch Time

I won't be posting in the next week because it's crunch time for the Debrecen competition. Time has yet again pulled a fast one on me. My teacher as well. He told me yesterday that ("by the way") my music has to be memorized. Needless to say, I feel stressed. I KNOW I am severely under-prepared, and feel I have an extra responsibility to represent a standard of performance for students in America. I will, I think, be the only American in this competition.

I have been working very hard, but in a performance, people don't see that. They see only what you can do now. And now, I can only struggle through the two pieces (the Bozza Ballade and the Martin Ballade, if anyone is curious) with a plethora of mistakes. Oh, and did I mention that each competitor has an audience of all the other competitors?

I don't actually have time to be writing this. There's much more I wanna tell, but I seem to have whittled another perfectly good day with trivialities. Thank you to many people who sent me letters recently. I will reply to them as soon as I can allow myself a good sit-down.

Well, I never got that nap I talked about. Right after I turned everything off, I noticed what a mess my room was and remembered that Jack was picking up his friend Diana and they'd be home soon. It's spotless now, and I got 12 hours of sleep last night. It's incredible how different I felt this morning.

Unfortunately, it's 2am now. Saturday night in Budapest. The rest of this post will be short.

Jack and Diana went to the Széchenyi Baths this morning and said it was great. I practiced for 4 hours. It was also great. The mass I tried in the evening turned out completely different than I had expected. I was hoping for a high ceiling, good acoustics, maybe and organ and incense (to cover the constant smell of cigarettes). What I found instead was disappointingly modern. There was excellent lighting, clean bright colors everywhere, electronic sound equipment, flowers, the whole works.

It also wasn't a mass but a recital for the kids of the church, all of whom play violin. The youngest was 8, and played with a presence I don't see in most college students. The older ones were also fantastic, most with great ears. I think I was trying to get away from concerts tonight, but this wasn't bad.

A few things there aggravated me, though. Some people gleamed that I spoke no Hungarian, and so a young girl who spoke English 'conveniently' sat next to me and proceeded to translate... everything. I admire her kindness, and understand that she probably does this for any English speakers visiting the city, but I didn't want this at all. It struck me in the same way a tourist attraction would - as repackaged to fit my needs. If a translator is needed to convey the message that we share something essential as human beings, I don't think the message is strong enough to warrant hearing. I don't mind speaking English most times, but I needed a cultural experience tonight, something that challenged me. Instead I got the tasteless white bread version.

There was also this pudgy little kid sitting in front of me who kept turning around and smirking at me. I wanted to smack him. I'm sorry, but it's true.

Oh, and the workers didn't come. I don't know why.

Jó es.

Culture Shock

I think I've been experiencing the low point of culture shock over the last few days. It probably doesn't sound like it from what I write, I know. I have been doing fantastic things and having great experiences. Just this week I've befriended the workers renovating our apartment, seen incredible concerts, an opera, finished a great book, made bread for the first time (it's delicious, by the way), and lived hundreds of moments through a regular day that I want to hang on to. Saying 'Sziasztok' to my Hungarian friends is still a little exciting for me, and when I walk along the Danube, I still think "I'm in Budapest" and marvel at how this came to be.

In Hungarian class today, we worked on translating a page of print into English. I looked at it and realized that I didn't know most of the words. I've been studying, talking with people, and making up sentences while walking around, but I couldn't recognize the damn words. And this little frustration triggered something emotionally, and I had that worthless feeling again. If you want a description, scroll down a few posts.

I feel like I'm at a feast with the best food from everywhere, and I've been eating ravenously for months. Now I can't take anything in. Even if you handed me a slice of the best cake, or a glass of fine wine (or a forró csokoládé chilivel), I would be reluctant to eat.

Here, I'm gonna try something now. After I post this, I'm turning off all the electronics in my room and taking a one hour nap.

P.S. To my family, I wrote this listening to the Rhythm of the Pride Lands album. I know you know that means I miss you.

Good Morning, America!

I always like to wake up in the morning to find a letter from a friend in my inbox, which I read over a bowl of cereal or oatmeal. It makes everything taste better. When I first started this blog, I remember most of my posts were delivered to the internet in the morning, which for those at home is about 3am. I imagined my family springing out of bed and racing to a computer ("Did Jesse write anything today?"). Sorry there haven't been more of them.

This is not such an entry, because I need to start practicing in a few minutes.

Very quickly, an explanation about the previous movie. My friend Mary Rowley first brought out my crazier side in our first semester at Earlham College. She had her birthday a few days ago, her last before graduation. I've been remembering those days recently, and this is my tribute.

That is all. Jó reggelt, Amerika!

I made a video. Here it is.



Also made some really good bread today. It was messy and fun. Will give some to the workers in the morning with their tea.

I am too tired to write tonight. Much trombone practice is needed in the next two weeks. Then I compete in Debrecen. That sucker will consume me. But after it, I go to Prague, Nuremberg, Salzburg and Vienna.

Yessssssssss.

Sok Puszi!

Connecting

I talked with the handyman of Zoltán utca 10 this morning about our internet problem. We have nicknamed him "Fuzz" because of his incredible hair-doo. Often we have seen him chiseling at something, or drilling something else. He has a small apartment two floors above us. His name is Gabór, I learned, but in our hearts, he is Fuzz.

I showed him the cut wire Jack discovered yesterday, and he immediately went for his tools, and we had a connection again in about half an hour. During that time, I made a different connection. One of the workers doing the renovation noticed my trombone, and asked me what instrument I played. We got to talking (in Hungarian) about music, and he told me his colleague, the whistler, used to play the baritone. Huh!

After Fuzz fixed the line, I locked up and started for the Academy. On my way out, I handed my Rochut book to Whistler and asked if he could play it. I think it made his day, because laughed and talked enthusiastically about how out of shape he was. The other workers came over to see what was up, and we spent the next half hour talking. I did my best to understand what they said.

I gleamed that Whistler is Romanian. His family lives there. He has a bunch of kids and hasn't played baritone for twenty years. He kept saying something and touching his lips, so I'm guessing that he stopped because he hurt them somehow. He's got a bunch of silver teeth, but I don't think that's the reason. I kept offering the book to him and encouraging him to try it out. His reluctance stems from it being in the wrong clef, for one (most baritone players in Europe use treble clef, I think). He is obviously very musical, though. I wonder if, when he played, it was by ear? Have I mentioned his terrific intonation when whistling? I may record this, because it's that good.

The other workers gathered around while we were talking, and started adding their own comments to the conversation. While they talked, I felt I was touching a completely different part of the world than I've been living in. Being a student from America is both enlightening and isolating. "Student status" is a wonderful thing, with the government giving you money and discounts on everything, but at the cost of keeping you with your own group. There is variety in that group, of course, but most everyone is of the same age and class. This morning, under the dirt on their faces and the calluses on their hands, I found surprising warmth. Janós, the man who struck up the conversation with me, said something about a concert coming up he wanted me to come to, so I gave him my number. He is the one of the group who speaks a little English. I don't know who or when or where, but when I get a call I will make sure to come.

Connecting with people in a land where you share no common language is a problem I have been wondering about. I sent an e-mail about this to my parents and my Grandpa Myles, all of whom have traveled extensively. "How do you get a feeling for a place when there is a language barrier between you and the people?" Mom shared with me some stories about traveling in Nepal with Dad, where they found this connection through Gin Rummy and food. She suggested, too, photos, frisbee and music. I learned the latter to be especially true this morning. Gramps reminded me that eye contact is a big positive, and this is not lost on Hungarians. A toast in the evening is not complete without a steady gaze while glasses clink - "egészségedre".

I now carry around all the photos I brought from home. My frisbee team, family, Enfield pictures and some friends accompany me in my walks around this city. I thank them all for helping me to bridge the gap I want to leap.



I know I promised a post on travel thoughts and such, and it's coming. I have some free time tomorrow, I think.

Hi world. Sorry I haven't posted for a few days, I've been both busy and inconveniently without home internet. They're renovating the interior courtyard of our building. I mentioned earlier that there are bullet holes in older Pesti buildings dating back the the revolution in 1956, and ours is one of those. The upper half is completely riddled with shells. Plastering over them involves bolting two exterior elevators to the walls and disabling internet for, at least, our apartment.

It's midnight, and I have to get an early start tomorrow. Here's a quick update.



Practicing hard for competition in Debrecen in 3 weeks - thumbs up and down

Hungarian opera "Bánk Bán" Saturday morning - thumbs up

Hungarian hockey game saturday evening - thumbs up

Budapesti Tavaszi Fesztivál - thumbs way up

Free/damn near free student tickets for everything? You guessed it - thumbs up.

Not having to use my Mastercard - priceless.

Sometimes...

I woke up this morning hating myself. I can't explain why it happens, but I imagine everybody has mornings like this. Where you wake up too late, but are too tired to actually get up, so you just lie there trying to go back to sleep. I couldn't get back to sleep either, because they're renovating the courtyard and started at 7am. The frustration of being woken by every noise made me think of every little think I don't like about myself, and they just added up and made me miserable for three hours. When I finally got out of bed I knew I had to wake up fast, because the half-asleep angry me was not fun to live with. I chugged my coffee and grumbled little nothings to nobody over my cold cereal, took a quick shower and started for school.

The reason I wanted to get up early was so I could go south to the foreigners' office in Újbuda and finally prove to them that I am insured while living here. Then I was going to watch the trombone competition at Liszt Ferenc, which started at 10. Balázs was playing, as well as about 15 other students from all over Hungary. So when I got there just before noon, I was followed by a dark cloud.

I listened to people play for about an hour, and got even more sulky. The coffee I slugged was making me fidgety and anxious, so I left and went to the practice room. I stupidly went straight into the massive amount of repertoire I have to learn for the Debreccen competition without a warm-up, and before 5 minutes I was freaking out.

And then it got better somehow. I think the ten minutes of breathing helped.

And then, I learned the Bozza Ballade. Fantastic.

And five hours later, I'm writing this and eating soup, and am much more cheerful.

Boldog Születésnapot, Kat Surgen!

March 15th Celebrations

My jogging route was clogged and convoluted on Sunday morning. During the night, police had set up barriers closing a lot of the roads in this district, preparing for possible riots. I also had to stop in Roosevelt tér, for that area was given for the fair. Upon the Széchenyi bridge, which Jack and I walked later, were a bunch of booths with actors doing historical recreations of famous events from the 1848 revolution. The weather was horrible and I'm sure they were miserable, but they did a good job keeping face.

From what we heard later, there were riots in the evening, but Jack and I were trapped in Bartók Hall for another concert. The Liszt Ferenc Chorus participated in a state event held there, along with the school orchestra. The prime minister gave a speech to start the evening, and artists from all over Hungary were recognized with awards during the night.

We got there early, and had to squeeze by truckloads of guards and police guarding the building. "Excuse me, we sing in the Liszt Ferenc Choir. We go where?" They all spoke rapidly and pointed. The pointing helped.



Béla Bartók hall is beautiful, with wonderful acoustics and comfortable chairs. The standard, we have noticed, for European/Hungarian concert halls is to place audience seats both beside and behind the stage, for those who wish to see from the performer's perspective. The choir was set up behind the orchestra on stage, and somehow Jack and I found ourselves in the center of the first row. Great view, but if a camera had zoomed in on us, people might have noticed that Jack and I didn't actually know the words to the three traditional Hungarian songs we were singing, including the national anthem.

Oops.

Our choir director also realized this, and at the end of his performance advice to the rest of the choir, he loudly yelled to us, "TO THE GENTLEMEN FROM THE USA: PLEASE MOVE TO THE THIRD ROW!" So embarrassing, but everyone got a good laugh out of it. I think they all understand how difficult their language is, and that learning their songs in such short time is near impossible. Needless to say, we flew to the corner of the third row and pretended to sing through the evening.

We were feeling nippish when we got home, so I whipped together another casserole around midnight. This one was topped with homemade cheese I bought at the Hunyadi tér piac on Friday. It was wow tasty. I'll skip through Monday and come to my cooking adventures for last night. We had another difficult Solfege class, and invited Hossan and Dinah over for dinner afterwards. I had been creating a dish in my head during class, and started preparing after we bought some necessary ingredients at the local Match in Deák Ferenc.

I found that making stuffed chicken was both easy and incredibly fun. While the rice was cooking, I carefully opened the inside of our leftover chicken breasts to make them... stuff-able. I also fried up some onion and mushrooms, and when all was stuffed with these and the rice (and a raw california pepper), the chicken got its fry time. In retrospect, the oven would have been a better home for it, for it was stuffed so much that the middle part took a long time to cook. No pictures of this excitement, I'm sorry, but there will come another time. Íde has mentioned she'd like to hold a potluck soon, and I'm thinking of ideas well in advance. I'm thinking vegetarian chili and corn bread. Easy, filling, and very Americano.

Special props go out to Kat, who is reading this week. I sent you something in the mail yesterday. Hoping this one gets there. I also send something to you, Margaret, that I found recently. It's about 25 years old, so take care of it. No, it's not a man.

Next post: Travel and Geocaching! If you are reading this and haven't gotten a postcard, or would like another postcard, send me an message. I have a big stack from Szentendre still waiting to be used.

The weather has been glorious for the past few days. The usual morning overcast has been remarkably light, leading to a sunny midday and afternoon. The sun sets early in Pest because Buda gets in the way, which makes the later hours of the day even more precious. Good weather this weekend is especially important, for March 15th is a national holiday. On this day for the past few years, Hungarians have celebrated the 1848 revolution against the Hapsburg empire. This explains the people I found one morning shouting at Parliament, when the Austrians were in town. It is also a catalyst for those who have current revolutionary spirit. Jack and I have both had warnings to stay away from crowds and to get out and experience it. We have a concert to sing at the Palace of the Arts that night, anyway, so I guess we'll be experiencing it.

I felt very energetic after my last Friday class ended, probably due to the great weather. I took my trombone to Vörösmarty tér to go busking for the first time here. I felt at first the same fear I experience when I started busking in Boston, but soon I got into it and enjoyed myself. Something that helped my confidence was reminding myself that the Rochut etudes were songs I have been playing for years. I couldn't have played anything else better than those.

People did the general walk-by, some glancing and some not. A few people tossed money - I think I made about 400 forint, though it wasn't a big reason I was out there. I've been trying to remind myself why I spend hours and hours locked up in dark rooms practicing. The main goal is to connect with people, and help them connect to themselves and others. Jack reminded me last night that, as a student, this time is an investment to future possibilities, so I shouldn't get frustrated or feel like I'm wasting my time. But it's wonderful to get outside and play, just so people can hear.


My jogging routeToday was also well spent. I've found a usual jogging route, full of great views and fairly straightforward. It goes south along the left (east) bank of the Danube, crosses the Széchenyi bridge, goes up along the river and crosses again the Margarit bridge, and back home (via Parliament). Did that at 9, and then after breakfast (corn flakes with milk and cherries from the piac at Hunyadi tér on Fridays) went shopping for baking ingredients.

Our food for the past two months (anniversary tomorrow!) has mostly consisted of boiled or fried foods, and I've been aching for a change. We're out of bread again, so I had thoughts of making some ala Mamma. For dinner, I tried a chicken casserole recipe I found online. I had a lot of fun writing out a timeline for preparation and generally throwing it all together. The last part was best - mixing pasta, tomato sauce, cheese, chicken and broccoli up with my bare hands. There was so much food, I had to improvise with a second baking dish.

And needless to say, it tasted amazing. Jack came into the room with "it smells like an Italian kitchen" and "good job" and (upon seeing the dish) "I'm not worthy." Heeeehe. Makes one feel good. I like this cooking thing. We have two more big chicken breasts in the fridge, and we need to use them fast before they go bad. Any ideas?

Oh, I'm forgetting the best part of the day! After Jack and I got back from shopping, we took my frisbee to Szábadsag tér to toss around. After a few minutes, we were joined by a Central European University student from Malaysia, and then by two little kids, who had a great time chasing us big people around. One was from Israel and the other from Mongolia, I'm guessing diplomat kids, and both spoke better Hungarian than I. We kept score that way. Cute as buttons.

Going to see the student orchestra play at the academy. Byyyye.

We had a choir concert last night, needless to say. I had fun trying to sing the latin in the Arvo and the Poulenc pieces. It had its moments. Good to have a performance again. I guess I've missed it.

While talking with people, we did realized a big problem, though. There is a choir concert on April 9th, as well. This falls in our second day of Prague. Uh-oh. We've already booked our hostels, and the deposits are non-refundable.

So we're not going to cancel two full days in Prague to sing an hour in Budapest. We've just got to tell our professor as soon as possible why we won't be there, and hope he gives us credit for the class, anyway. Yeaaaah.

Lesson time.

Easter Break

What the Americans call 'Spring Break' is rapidly approaching here in Europe. April 8th to 15th is our allotted time to spring around the country, seeing and photographing city after city. And now we have a rough idea of what we'll be doing. Here's a peek:

8th - am leave for Prague
*staying at Hostel Pompo, Jakubská 744/4, 110 00
*see an opera at the state operahouse
11th - am depart for Nuremberg
*staying at the Lette'm sleep Nürnberg Hostel, Frauentormauer 42
*see holocaust museum and hopefully some trombony stuff
12th - am depart for Beyreuth
*see Wagner stuff
12th - pm depart for Salzburg
*staying at the Yoho Intl Youth Hostel, Paracelsusstrasse 9
14th - am to Vienna
*staying at the Wombat Lounge, Mariahilfer Straße 137
17th - am to Budapest (via Danube Hydrofoil, possibly)

Hostels were chosen on basis of location to center of the city. All very good spots, all less than $25 per person per night. Yes, on a few places we may have four other people in a room with us, but I feel that, as they are fellow travellers, we will have at least that in common and will make some good connections.

Esztergom és Visegrád

My plan to visit Veszprém this weekend changed last minute to a venture into the Pilis Hills, and the Danube bend towns of Esztergom and Visegrád (click here for the album). I guess I messed up my time calculations, and somehow got a train out of Budapest an hour earlier than I had intended. More daylight to burn! Unfortunately, very little daylight showed this morning, and overcast hung around most of the day. This made for a very chilly, short visit to Esztergom.

The main attraction for me in Esztergom was the Basilica, the largest church in Hungary - Catholic, of course. It was begun in 1822 on plans from an older, destroyed church in the same location. The designer, József Hild, also created the plans for the cathedral in Eger, which I hope to visit soon. The exterior is stunning in good light (goodsearch tells me this), but the interior is rather dark and gloomy.

Esztergom also neighbors Štúrovo, Slovakia, which lies across the Danube. My first look at it was a dark one. Regardless, the weather that morning made everything dark, but even in good light I imagine the city to be depressive. It has all the markings of industry, from tall housing blocks to numerous smokestacks and construction cranes. I didn't cross over.

My time in the Basilica was eventually disturbed by a noisy group of tourists. The women wore especially loud shoes, and all took noisy flash photos of everything. I didn't even bother going into the chapel, which I read has some fantastic examples of Italian Renaissance sculpture. Maybe when I come back in the spring.

I quickly made my way through the wind to the bus station a kilometer or so away, where I found the Volanbusz to Visegrád. The bus takes route 11 east along the Danube for 25 kilometers, where it stops briefly in this surprisingly small town. I almost didn't get off the bus at the stop, because I didn't think I was really there. In my map, Visegrád is a big-ish dot, and I hear the name often. Only a few small churches, stores and houses here. I was struck by the quiet. Sunday mornings in the winter make everything quiet here.

I found a trail leading up to Fellegvár, the Visegrád citadel, and relished the climb. Hungary does not have much for mountains, so the few hills I find excite me very much. I spent the next half-hour getting my blood pumping a little harder than I've been used to in the city. There was one uphill part so muddy that to ascend, I used the sides of the embankment to sort of half-pipe my way upwards. A lot of running.

Fellegvár offered great views of the Börzsöny hills to the north and the whole of the Danube bend. In sunlight in the spring, I imagine it's brilliant. Check out the movie for an idea of the view.



The rest of my day was used wandering around the various trails in that part of the hills. Nagy-Villám (big hill) had a huge field with wonderful views on it's head, and from Kisvillám (small hill - creative names, huh?) I could see Vác to the south, across Szentendre Island. The sun came out for good during this, and I especially liked lying on Kisvillám watching the clouds scatter. Nobody around. I was so glad.

I walked back to town after a few hours. During the day I planned another excursion to the area. Esztergom and Visegrád both lie to the north of the Pilis Hills, which is a protected national park. Between them is the town of Dömös, from which is a trail (or trails) to Dobogókő, about 6 kilometers away. Dobogókő is a tiny town sitting on a hilltop 700 meters up, and I imagine it's very beautiful in the spring. I hope to hike from Pomáz, a town on the HÉV line to Szentendre, to Dobogókő, and then to Dömös on the Danube. Maybe to Esztergom to see the Basilica in the evening.

I've been thinking about what traveling means to me recently, and if it weren't past midnight I would write about it. But I have another long day tomorrow. Practice time has been very limited recently, and my first chorus concert is tomorrow night. I don't know the music particularly well, but it's fun to sing in it, and some parts are really moving. I'm also learning some Hungarian songs there, a big plus.

Jó es!

Quick update! I'm going to Esztergom tomorrow. If the weather is good, I'll go hiking, and if it stinks I'll hang around or take a bus to Visegrad. There is also a chance I could cross the Danube and see a little of Slovakia. When I get back, I'll give a thorough update on life over the last week. Not terribly exciting, just a lot of practice and studying... I should be practicing all tomorrow, but... John Steinbeck made me do it.

Saturday Házi Buli!

I know you're all dying to hear about our first international potluck dinner (house party is házi buli in Hungarian). Sorry I didn't post about it sooner, but hey, life is nutty.

We did most of our shopping on Friday, which included picking up a bunch of veggies from the Friday piac at Hunyadi tér after Hungarian class. Our plan to remake Guszti's fish soup turned into chicken soup with Jack's father's original Polish recipe. I bought drumsticks and wings at the Match on Saturday, a few hours after noon and after finishing a good practice session at Liszt Ferenc.

Our first guests arrived just as we were finishing cleaning the apartment, and Jack was heating the soup. Haofan and Juam are both from China, and had brought the ingredients for another chicken dish. Haofan lost no time in setting up to cook, while Juam stayed back and watched (claims he can't cook). His dish was drumsticks fried in oil and sugar, and then spiced with something having that certain je ne sais quoi. He says you can make it just with regular Hungarian paprika, too :-)

Petr arrived a while later, with loud apologies for being late (which he wasn't). He brought a few beers and a homemade meat loaf thing from his mother in the Czech Republic. It's like chicken puree wrapped around a stick of salami and hard-boiled eggs. It looks remarkably like bread. Very unique. He also brought the biggest smiles and loudest laughs (more like bellows) of anyone I've ever met.

Elisa and Dinah arrived next, bringing with them pasta straight from Italy and green curry from Dinah's Singaporean recipe, which slowly turns your mouth to rubber and leaves you damp. Elisa left her Mom, who was visiting, at home in her apartment to come to this party, so special props to her for the night. Dinah also brought a bunch of packages of dried and pressed seaweed. It reminded me of those breath freshening strips you put on your tongue and dissolve. These were bigger, thinner and tasted nothing like spearmint, but were really tasty, and I found myself eating them like popcorn later in the evening (when I was too full to eat anything else).

By this time we're all eating the appetizers Jack made, starting on the wines and generally carrying on. The chicken drumsticks are done, pasta and curry are heating, soup on low heat. Mirva and Caterina added even more to the mix, this time on the dessert side. Mirva brought dessert and also Karelian pies, a Finnish pasty which is supposed to go with soup, but I have discovered they are great with jam for breakfast. Caterina also brought dessert, some rice pudding with some orange zest, which I'd never had before. She also took care to artistically write "Music" in the top with cinnamon. I didn't get a photo, unfortunately.

We were all ready to dig in when Hosung FINALLY arrived!

We sat everyone down at our extendable (dios gratias) table and turned the lights down low, placing our wine bottle candles I've made around to give a good atmosphere. The next two hours was spent in celebration. We went though course after course of delicious food from all over Europe and Asia, commenting and complimenting, talking and laughing, and some of us rushing around serving food or pouring wine. Everyone took occasional stretch breaks.

We retired to the living room after the meal slowed down. Haofan led everyone in some games involving cunning and observation. They drove Jack crazy. If people found space, they snacked on Mirva's dessert. Named Runeberg's Tarts after the famous (?) Finnish poet Johan Ludvig Runeberg, these are always eaten on his birthday. They taste freakin' amazing.

We ended the night with another party at Szimpla-kert, Blanca's Feliz Cumplianos. We didn't actually spend much time with the celebrating Spaniards, because Petr and I found the cso-cso table and our party migrated there. The power in the room for some reason cut out a few times during play, so some games were lit with cell phone LCD screens. As people drifted home, we went to Szoda (yet another local club) to go dancing. I took this great photo.

Jack and I got home around 3am. This was a wonderful night, and class on Monday reflected the stronger bonds we now have with our classmates. Our tanár asked us questions in Hungarian for half an hour about the party. We sang her the song she taught us on Friday with renewed gusto and vigor (we spent a lot of time singing it on the way to and from the clubs).

You can see the rest of the photos here. I feel so lucky to be here, and I'm gonna make the most of it.