observation

As I alluded to in my last post, it's been a busy week. I found time for some fun activities (the opera on Wednesday night and after school table tennis with my students, to name a few), but my work week was dominated by the four class observations I had this week (one unofficial).

This is the first time anyone besides my students has seen me teach, and it was a little disconcerting. It probably goes without saying, but I think about my students when I plan my lessons, when I teach, and when I grade. Their needs are foremost in my mind. This week, though, as I prepared to be observed by my department chair, my ESI country director, and a group of about 20 or 25 guests for Pedagogy Day I started to think about other things. What would other people think of my teaching techniques? What nifty slick tricks do I have up my sleeve that I can use to wow these other teachers? Instead of focusing on what my students' needed (to practice using "would" for imaginary situations so they stop saying things like, "If I went to the beach I will take sunscreen so I will not burn down") I focused on what would impress other teachers.

The thing is, it worked. The other teachers liked my lessons, and I got good feedback. I felt lousy about one of the four observations (the "unofficial" one, fortunately), but otherwise I thought I had done pretty well. Then last night I was unwinding by reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (again), and I was blown away by how caught up in other people's opinions they were. Why does Ron care so much that he might not be able to apperate? Why does Harry worry that people will think he put Ron on the quidditch team just because they're mates?

I was actually thinking to myself, "boy, am I glad I'm not in that world anymore" when it hit me. That's exactly what I did this week. I sold out my students, and taught them lessons that were designed so they could show off their (and consequently my) brilliance, instead of ones that challenged them and taught them new things, and I did it because I was worried about what other people would think. In a word, pathetic. I owe them an apology for forgetting why I'm a teacher.

don't worry, I'm fine (or am I?)

It seems that going a week without posting anything on my blog causes some worry among friends and family on the other side of the world. I guess that probably says something about my poor communication skills in other forums. My plan, mentioned in my last post, to bounce back from vacation with strength and vigor was derailed by a bad cold and cough. Instead I spent three days of last week at home in bed, eating strange Hungarian soup mixes, listening to soothing music, watching an occasional episode of Joan of Arcadia, and trying not to cough too much. I mainly stayed home so my students wouldn’t have the chance to make fun of my frog voice. I believe I’m back up to normal strength, which is good because I have a busy week ahead.

Between the road trip and my brief stint as an invalid I had some time to think, so I turned to my favorite subject: myself. Don Miller says we’re all “lifeboat people,” that is like those stranded at sea in a lifeboat trying not to be the one who gets it when the water runs out. To prevent that from happening we focus our energy on proving our significance to others, usually at the expense of others. I’ve only been in my current life situation for two and a half months, but it’s the most independent I’ve ever been in my life. It’s easy for me to fall into the lifeboat trap because I have few people around for whom I need to sacrifice my wishes and desires. As I teacher I essentially impose my will on my students (not necessarily a bad thing), and since I’m basically living alone I don’t have to worry about shared living space relationships. I don’t spend much time with friends, and when I do it’s often sadly superficial. Right now everything I do happens on my terms, and that’s not healthy.

Several recent events have brought this truth into stark reality: my parents’ visit (do I need to elaborate?), my trip with Sam, a recent e-mail from a friend living and working in some amazing Intentional Christian Community in New York City, an article I read on “the new monasticism” of urban ICCs that sounded so much like what we wanted Project Neighborhood to be last year (and sometimes was), and a few good chats with good friends. While being convicted of selfishness and self-idolatry is not a fun process, it’s made me draw closer to my many communities. As a Christian I’m called to live in community with my brothers and sisters, and that inevitably means sharing, compromising, giving, letting go of my need to feel worldly significance (read: superior to others), and serving others. I’ve been ignoring or avoiding that calling of late.

As usual, it feels good to get this out in the open (even if it’s through the passive channel that is my blog). The next step is for me to speak to those with whom I’m committed to being in community. Then I need to remember that my Christian ministry begins with my example of Christianity, and true Christian communities demonstrate God’s love in deep and beautiful ways. Perhaps by making this public I will force myself into a little accountability. As Luke Girardi would say, “Hey, Copernicus called. He wanted you to know he discovered the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

i love Bavaria (and more)

So, to summarize, vacation's good. After travelling through Austria (hitting both Vienna and Salzburg, with a drive through the alps and the Austrian lake district) and Germany (Munich and Bavaria), I'm relaxing in Praha (Prague). The lovely Aaron and Phoebe graciously agreed to host us, even though their two year old son, Nehemiah, proceeded to run around laughing, screaming, and throwing himself on the floor for a good hour after we arrived. He likes new people, I think.

Some brief highlights include seeing cows wearing actual cowbells, mad king Ludwig's castle (the model for the Disneyworld castle), drinking beer and eating soft pretzels in Munich, the Austrian Alps (which look surprisingly like western WA), going to All Saint's Day mass in Munich, and catching up with friends (Christina in Vienna, all the Cheb/Sokolov ESI folk, and now the Prague gang). I wish I could give you the blow by blow of all of Sam and my adventures, but it would be longer than a Rick Steeve travel book.

Mostly, though, it's been wonderful to get away from the routine. I love getting away from the daily grind, because it makes going back to the grind so comforting. Nothing makes me appreciate the little daily things like a few days away from them. I think I'll return to my teaching duties next week with renewed vigor and energy. But until then, a few more sights to see...

road trip

Greetings to my (7) faithful readers. I just finished teaching my last class before the much anticipated fall break. I will be spending next week driving around Europe, specifically to Vienna, Salzburg, Munich, Cheb/Sokolov, Prague, Bratislava, and back to Budapest. I'll try to update on the way. Until then!

"The Magical Food"

Though I often get work from students that makes me laugh until it hurts, I've hesitated to post it on my blog for general enjoyment. Remember I'm the same person who wonders at the ethics of censoring spam comments on my blog - publishing student work without permission seems sketchy. The following, however, is a story the author had to read aloud to his class. Because it is already a public document I don't feel bad about posting it. That and I really like it! By the way, a passable knowledge of the international soccer scene will help in the reading.

"Once upon a time there was a little fat soccer koala named Konaldo. He had a very good friend called Benhaldinho. Konaldo and Benhaldinho were football players on the Koalaian national team. They had a magical food, the eucalyptus footballus. But there was a very bad rock kangaroo called Jumpy. This rock kangaroo was the minister of Kangaruantina. He didn't like football and he hated Koalai. The standard of living was higher in Koalai. Education and tourism were also high, but inflation was very high in Kangaruantina. [editor's note: can you tell what type of vocab we were working on that they had to include in their story?] In Kangaruantina the government wanted to steal the eucalyptus footballus. They charged Jumpy to steal it. One day there was a football match between Koalai and Kangaruantina. It was a "war" because Konaldo played against his enemy Ronaldingo. Konaldo's team lost the match because Jumpy stole the eucalyptus footballus. The fans started to fight. The police came and took them to jail. The police also took Jumpy to jail because they discovered he stole the magical food. So they lived happily after in freedom."

Well done, Gabor.

parental units

I'll send some paprika to the first person who identifies the guys in the statue my Dad and I are standing by in the first picture.




By the way, it's 7:00 in the morning and game three of the World Series is still going on (11th inning). Can I skip my first class to watch the web cast? I'm guessing not.

Sinatra, baseball, a Zlaty, and Russian Lit

I'm feeling into bullet points today. Here goes...

• Mom and Dad left yesterday and I responded by spending the whole afternoon on my couch - grading, planning, relaxing, and watching Alias. I feel almost caught up.
• I'm sitting in an internet cafe sipping a Zlaty Bazant and it reminds me of Calvin Band Tours. I'm really thankful for those memories.
• At the big covered market today I saw a Jack-O-Lantern on top of a stack of pumpkins for sale. I nearly bought a pumpkin just so I could carve it.
• What happened to the 'Stros? I feel happy for the Sox and my Chicago connections, but I thought this would be a great series. Here's hoping Roy and the Astros can bounce back tonight.
• I have to preface the funny train story by saying I'm really not attracted to most Hungarian women because of the way they dress and act. Let's just say modesty is not a priority. So, when a tastefully dressed attractive young woman sat in our compartment on the trip home from Eger I took notice mostly because it's such a rare thing to see. I have no interest in dating a Hungarian (the cultural differences would make it challenging), but I have never wanted to speak Hungarian more than when this young woman pulled out a Hungarian copy of "The Master and Margarita" by Mikhail Bulgakov. This is at least one of my favorites, if not my favorite book of all time (with thanks to E. Ericson and R. Rienstra). It was crazy - I had been mildly attracted to this woman and seconds later, before I knew it, I desperately wanted to talk to her. Oh well, maybe I'll meet her again sometime when my Hungarian is a bit better.
• The Batman post is coming, but let me reiterate that humanity is what makes great people great. Nobody liked Superman until the comic book writers invented kryptonite. It's the same with Jesus. He went through the temptations we do, but didn't give in. Batman is the best superhero because he's not super.
• I saw a new ad on a tram this afternoon. It featured Dr. Green, Dr. Ross, Dr. Benton, Nurse Hathaway, and the Physicians assistant Gini from the old days of ER. I was trying to remember how long it's been since any of those people were actually on the show. Hungary - always on the cutting edge of culture.
• The internet cafe is playing Sinatra singing standards (I Only Have Eyes for You, The Way You Look Tonight, etc.). Nice.
• With fall break coming next week my students are about as cooperative as a three year old in a pet store. I need tranquilizers for them.
• Walking around Budapest and enjoying the wickedly beautiful fall weather while listening to Jack Johnson makes me very happy.

quick thought

Mom and Dad are here, and it's a surreal clash of worlds. My students are meeting my parents? So strange!

kedd

It's Tuesday (Kedd, in Hungarian), and it's cold. We had our first frost Sunday night, and now my early morning walk to school is full of the foot crunching wonderfulness that comes from frosted grass. Did that last sentence even make sense? The cool, crisp fall days have been beautiful, and last week I was inspired to walk around my little corner of Budapest taking pictures. I hope to soon post a photo-essay of sorts, documenting Csapel for you all. But as I was walking around yesterday, I realized that Sunday marks the two month anniversary of my arrival in Budapest. It's amazing how quickly that two months has past, but also how long ago that seems. I don't feel like waxing poetic to mark the occasion (at least any more than I already have), so, in honor of Sam, here are some random thoughts on a Kedd...

1. I went to Eger this weekend (that's where I had the chocolate/walnut/rum flavored pancake with fresh fruit and whipped cream that is featured below). I saw the second largest church in Hungary, a really cool library (with a letter from Mozart), and the castle where a mere 2,000 Hungarians held off 40,000 Turks in the middle of the 16th century (only to be conquered by those some Turks 40 years later in a truly Hungarian twist of fate). The area's famous for its red wine, which was quite good, though the Egri Bikaver I had (literally, bull's blood) wasn't too special. The legend is that the Hungarians with beards stained red by wine held off the Turks with such ferocity thought the Turks thought they must have been drinking bull's blood. Rick Steeve's debunked the myth for me (as usual, he knows everything) by saying the name doesn't appear until the mid 19th century.

2. Hungarian is hard! I have lessons with my wonderful tutor, Lidia, on Tuesday afternoons, and in preparing for this week I was struck (once again) at how different the language is. The structures of English I've spent so much of my life working on simply don't exist in Hungarian. The language has no prepositions - just 400 different ways to end words (slight exaggeration).

3. Pogacsa are wonderful. Just trust me - I eat too many.

4. I had lunch yesterday with Todd, a very cool American who's been here with his family for years working with church planting and summer camps for kids. They do a 10 day English camp and a 10 day arts camp every summer as an outreach ministry of the E-Free church here (KEGY). Maybe it's something I can be involved with.

5. One of the most interesting things about sharing an office with four other teachers is what I've come to call the I'm-gonna-kill-em face. The nearly daily moment of someone walking back into our office between classes with a look on their face that could freeze water is always interesting. As teachers we (at least try to) contain our emotions during class so we can maintain some sense of dignity. But when we get back in the sanctum of the office, all bets are off - the real feelings come to the forefront and it creates a funny sort of bond between us. Last week one of my colleagues had to deal with a tragic accident that put her sister and nephew in the hospital. We saw the face a lot, but we were able to be supportive. It felt like the way community is supposed to work.

6. I picked up some Russian Lit again (Pasternak this time), thanks to a funny thing that happened on the train back from Eger. It feels very appropriate to read it here.

greatest dessert ever

why I teach better when I iron my shirt

The good news is my students care enough to search high and low on the internet to find my website (nice work, Peter and Marcell). The bad news is that since they've found it I have to be more careful about what I say. I've reached the end of another week, and I'm relaxing by sitting in the Havana cafe sipping a latte and reading about college football and the baseball playoffs. The cafe just taunted me by playing half of a Diana Krall song I didn't recognize (does she have a new album out - must check on this) before switching back to lousy Hungari-pop. It's even worse than usual, though, because it's a live recording complete with adolescent girls screaming their heads off. I, however, am in such a good mood I don't mind that much. I never thought teachers looked forward to the weekend as much as students do.

As I teach more I've realized that what happens in my class is fundamentally about the image I present in class. Looking back I draw a correlation between the days when I have a hard time with student behavior and how "together" I am. I was taught that the best classroom management is preventive, and a big part of that is being organized and prepared. I try to be real with my students (like admitting when I've made a mistake and being sufficiently contrite), but that doesn't mean I need to reveal all my insecurities to them. The old adage, "fake it 'til you make it" is something I've come to live by. And for me, part of that is ironing my shirts. I still don't feel much like an adult sometimes, but if I look like one I can at least fake it until I do. There's something about a crisply pressed collar and a tie that gives me confidence to face those rambunctious fourteen year-olds when it's lacking.

(And don't think I've given my secret away to those students who may be reading this - they don't know when I'm faking it and when I'm not. Besides, their quiz on Monday will remind them who's the boss!)

countryside

The last few weekends I’ve been fortunate to get out of the city and enjoy a bit of the Eastern European scenery. With my parents coming to visit soon (and bringing a rented car) it’s likely the trend will continue. The fall scenery has been wonderful (though the changing trees don’t hold a candle to the colors in Michigan and especially Pennsylvania). My favorite part, though, has been the friendly encouraging people I’ve encountered. People in Budapest are friendly enough, but seeing Americans and suffering through their terrible Hungarian pronunciation isn’t a rare experience for the typical Budapestian. But out in Esztergom, Visegrad, or any of the many Slovakian hamlets we went to last weekend they’re a bit more gracious. This isn’t too surprising – everybody says you have to get out of the big cities to really see a country. So if this is the real Hungary, it’s one of the friendliest places I’ve ever been. Two examples: I was trying to ask directions in Hungarian, and the young man I was talking to patiently endured my slaughtering of his language before slowly and clearly articulating his response. I had a follow up question that was beyond my Hungarian, so on a whim I asked if he spoke English. He replied, “yes, I do. I would have said so before but I could see you really wanted to try your Hungarian, and you were doing very well.” (If only my students could form a compound-complex sentence like that one!) And second, last night, we were looking for a restaurant that was listed as number 14 on the main street in Szentendre. We couldn’t find it, so we asked the shop owner at number 13. She told us number 14 didn’t exist (which it doesn’t), but walked next door to another shop keeper to confirm this. When they agreed there was no number 14 we apologized and started walking away (they also apologized profusely – I guess for their town’s obvious deficiency for not having a number 14!), but a minute later the first shop keeper came running down the street after us. She had asked at another shop and found out the restaurant was in the next street over. Above and beyond the call of duty barely scratches the surface of this woman’s kindness to us.

Kossuth Day photos

Captions:
9B students trying to see how many people can fit in a small box

Viola, a 9A1 student, being turned into a mummy

Daniel, a 9A2 student

One of the games - it involved moving a coin down the line without using any hands

Shandor and Gergy, 9A2 students.

Kossuth Day

On Thursday instead of teaching my students English I got to show them my basketball skills at my school’s annual sanctioned hazing event, Kossuth Day. It began with the 10th, 11th, and 12th graders gathering in the gym, and making the four 9th grade forms parade in wearing the goofy overalls that blue-collar workers wear here. The first half of the day was a competition between the 9th grade forms in which randomly selected students were asked to perform silly and sometimes difficult tasks. For example, two students from each class were given two eggs, and going off the school grounds they were to cook them as quickly as possible. The various groups received points for speed and quality. Other pairs had to take a roll of toilet paper and get 50 people who had no connection to the school to sign it. Meanwhile, those students who were left had to compete in silly relay races and such. It was quite fun, and nobody was so embarrassed that they broke down and wept. After that students from all the grades were able to choose from a variety of activities ranging from sports tournaments of all kinds to candle holder decoration to a session on how to train dogs. I competed in the three-on-three tournament on a team with a PE teacher and a Physics teacher. We did well, but ended up losing the championship game 14-12 in a heartbreaker (we played first to 11 wins, but have to win by two). My involvement came about because I’ve been helping out with the after school basketball sessions recently. I enjoy it a lot because these kids have some skill, but no fundamentals. The first day I played on a team with three 9th graders, and we managed to beat four 11th graders because I was able to get my team doing basic pick and rolls, a give and go or two, and boxing out for rebounds. It’s a new kind of basketball for me because (a) I’m good over here, and (b) my greatest happiness comes when I get the ball to a weak player in a spot where he can get an easy lay-up. I don’t look to score unless I have to. It reminds me of years ago when I used to play basketball at Sunset Park with Don Garbrick. He would go out of his way to make us look good when he easily could have won the game by himself. It’s nice to see things come full circle a bit. (And sorry for those who don’t get the old State College reference.) I’ll post a few Kossuth Day photos, but I didn’t get any of the basketball since I was playing.

my students

I love 'em. I hate 'em. But here they are... my 9A students in all their glory.






Peter and Marcell "working" in class.






9A3






9A1



9A2

silence

Since people I don't even know are starting to ask me where I've been for three weeks (who are you Andrew?), I thought a tiny update would be better than more silence. I feel bad about the fact that I haven't written in a while, but not too bad because most of my time has been taken up with the process of learning to be a good teacher (or at least adequate!). This month has been both challenging and rewarding for me, but in list form here's what I'm frustrated with...
-Never being told what's going on and not knowing where to find things out (like when half my class just stood up and walked out of class yesterday to go tot he school doctor!)
-Smart students who don't care enough to do homework or study for quizzes
-The line for the copy machine
- Not feeling I've found a church home in Bp yet

I'm thankful for...
-having a copy machine!
-getting to know my students at a deeper level
-Family of Faith Church
-the Budapest Christian Library
-my fellow (Christian) American teachers
-the cultural events of the big city
-all my students (seriously, I can find good things to say about every single one of them)

Lots of love!

Borfest

This weekend we at the Bazis played host to the ESI Hungary/Slovakia team and our year opening retreat. It is terrific to have everyone back together, if only for a day, but the real highlights were the barbecued hamburgers and the impromptu softball game that followed. It almost felt like a Labor Day picnic! Saturday night many of us decided to head to the Buda Castle for the annual Wine Festival (“bor” is Hungarian for wine). The beautiful castle is taken over for three days by scores of wineries from all over Europe, and beyond. They set up in little gazebos where they offer tastings, and the variety available is dizzying! This was my first wine festival, and while it was a bit overwhelming I couldn’t imagine a better setting for it. Gazing out over the Danube with my fellow teachers, seeing Parliament and the Chain Bridge lit up, and doing it all while sipping on a nice French Bordeaux – it’s a nice life! But I think it’s not the life for me. At least for now I’m still more of a beer guy – now if only I could get to Munich for Octoberfest…

the first week

I’m not sure how to describe my first full week of teaching at Kossuth, now that I’ve survived it. I decided to wait at least a week before writing about school to avoid making snap judgments, but over the last week I’ve felt just about every emotion possible. Take the elation I got when two of my beginner students were simply able to ask each other what their names were, where they were from, and what their jobs were, and contrast that with the frustration of being unable to get one of my classes to do an activity in English because they could do it just as easily in Hungarian. From students I encountered both direct insubordination and enthusiastic cooperation. I’ve had students cheat on assignments (quite obviously, in fact), and turn in some terrific work. I guess I could sum it up by saying that teaching is an incredibly rewarding experience, but it requires extensive patience, great flexibility, and vast amounts of energy! I’m apprehensive about this year and the amount of work it will be, but I’m also very optimistic. I have some terrific students who are both bright and motivated, and for that I’m grateful.

a chance meeting

Picture this: I’m sitting on a bench in Deak Ter (“ter” is Hungarian for square) with my friend and fellow ESI teacher Joanna, waiting for another ESI teacher, Danielle. It’s a prime location to meet people because it’s where all three metro lines converge. I was enjoying My Name is Asher Lev, by Chiam Potak, when I looked up, and across the square I saw someone who looked familiar. I saw only her profile, but I thought to myself, “That looks like the girl from Prof. Holberg’s Survey of Brit Lit class.” I kept watching, and when she turned away from me I recognized the Calvin College Young Author’s Festival tee-shirt she was wearing. I hopped up, jogged across the square, and said, “Excuse me, you went to Calvin College, didn’t you?” It turns out that she was there waiting for other members of the Calvin semester in Budapest program, including Prof. De Vries who showed up moments later. I chatted with these wonderful Calvin folks for a few minutes before exchanging contact info and parting ways.

You don’t really expect these things to happen in Europe, or at least I don’t. Maybe if you’re wandering around Grand Rapids, MI you randomly run into someone you know from Calvin, but in Budapest? They tell you Calvin people are everywhere - who knew they were serious?

the bazis

Have I told you I live at something called "the base?" Because the school where I teach is a technical high school specializing in airplane engineering and flight technology (and other aspects of flight transportation, as demonstrated by the English class made up of 14 flight-attendants in training that one of my American colleagues has to teach) there are a lot of planes and such scattered around the school. I may have mentioned the display case right by my office devoted to motor oil. So, to give you a taste of life at The Bazis, here's the view that greets me every morning when I walk out the front door. Enjoy!