Choir trip part three

Sunday morning was great – we got ready to go and headed back to the hotel for the warm up.  Megan was dressed for success (aka church) and watched patiently while we warmed up.  Kata runs a tight ship and snapped gently at some of us who weren’t paying attention.  Most of the group had on white polos that said the name of the choir on the front, and a sketch of Tata on the back.  I will have to get one soon- but I had a white shirt on and black pants.  I did get the memo that that was the outfit – which didn’t matter because other people had on khakis, and purple pants – it really didn’t matter.  I went shopping for a white shirt – because I didn’t have a nice one – and other people are wearing purple and khaki.  Geeze.  The things I think are important (matching) are not, and the things that are (bread) I don’t remember.  Boo. 

 

We went out to get into the cars – Megan was going to come with Freddie, Joszi, Edit and I.  While we were outside talking, I tried to get the plan from Freddie- and he asked Istvan – he reported back that we were going to sing at 10:00 mass, then go to a festival in another village and then leave for Tata at 5:00pm.  EXCUSE ME?  5:00 pm?  Holy crap.  We got in the car, and Megan realized that 5:00 was too late, and we weren’t sure how we’d get her back so she bailed.  It was the right choice – but everyone in the car was a little confused.  I told them she had an appointment at 1:00 and that we didn’t know it would take all day.  I was a little upset because I didn’t know (surprise) that we were going to be gone until 5:00 either.  I have tried to let go of my need to be in control because it doesn’t get you anywhere – but I really wish I’d have had a schedule.  Oh well. 

 

We headed to the church- which was beautiful.  It was built in 1813, and had been left to fall apart a little bit.  It was a large church in a small village, but the inside was beautiful.  As we left the car, I was asked by three people if I wanted my coat, and it was nice out, so I said “I’m from Minnesota, I’m tough.”  Little did I know that there hadn’t been heat in the church since 1813 – and it was freezing.  So once again, the choir uniform was out of the question.  Most people may have had matching shirts, but we all had our coats on now so it didn’t really matter.  We warmed up a bit more and then prepared for church.  We stood at the back of the church, it wasn’t very large – and we were clearly out of place.  It was almost as if dueling choirs was happening at church.  We were not much more than an annoyance to the regular parishioners.  We sang an opening song – and then once we were done, they sang the song they usually sing.  These are ladies that have been going to church there for years – it’s quite clear.  They each had their own seat cushion (which will be explained in a later blog) and there was one woman who definitely lead the pack.  We sang a responsorial psalm, then they sang the one they usually do.  We seemingly had no effect on them other than to make their mass longer…  I was nervous – because I was standing in front, and I was the only one without the matching folder.  I also did not have the first song for some dumb reason, so I started off on the wrong foot.  Anyhow, at the end of the mass, we went to the front and faced the congregation (all 40 of them) to sing our last set of songs.  There was a special song where we sang it in Hungarian, then as we hummed, the German said the words in German, the Russian lady in Russian, and then me in English.  I was a little nervous, but whatever.  I paid close attention to Kata because she switched the order of the speakers (I think… I don’t know for sure) so I was watching for her cue.  It came to my turn, and while I was in the middle of my speaking part, she started crying.  It was another of those truly special moments that made me feel in my heart that I had made a good choice to come to this country for a year.  Here I was in a foreign country, on a trip with total strangers, singing in Hungarian in a beautiful church – and the choir director was so proud of us that she was brought to tears.  Of course, then I started to get choked up, but I made it through my last few lines and all was well.  She came up and gave me a big hug afterwards – the stern, mostly business Kata was proud of me.  I couldn’t have felt more warm inside.

 

After church, we toured the crypt down below.  There were several coffins in the crypt (duh) but many of them were members of the famous Hungarian Esterhazy family.  There is an Esterhazy palace in many of the towns here – or Esterhazy squares, streets, etc.  The Crypt was really cool – but a little to accessible for my taste.  I am used to iron bars being up in front of the places where famous people are buried, but it was cool.  We of course, sang while down in the crypt because that’s what we do… we break into song in weird places.  After the crypt we were going to get lunch – or so I thought.  We actually headed next door to a random woman’s home.  She invited us into her house to show us some art her uncle did, and some of her “pottery” collection.  I thought it to be another special treat to get to see the inside of a Hungarian family’s home.  The house itself was 250 years old – it used to be a pub.  The walls were 85 centimeters thick and were in great shape.  She told us about the art and the house, and then we left to get something to eat… from the cars… picnic style.  Crap crap crap again.  What is it with the picnics?  Of course – it’s lunch again – so a huge meal.  Break out the bread, wine, palinka, cheese, veggies, bread, bread and bread.  Of course, once again, I had nothing to add – so I felt like a dumbass – and my camera had died so I wasn’t able to even hide my lack of contribution by taking random pictures.  GEEZE!  Several people asked me if I wanted food – and I basically just broke down.  You just can’t say no.  It’s not even worth trying to say no- it WON’T work!  I ate bread, meat, bread, more bread and some cheese.  After the picnic, we toured two more churches- one that had a piece from the cross that Jesus died on – as certified by the Vatican- and another Catholic one.  We also visited the home of a traditional craft person.  He is one of 4 people in Hungary certified and skilled in the art of cloak making.  These cloaks were prominent in earlier times in Hungary, and the craft is dying, but he forges on from his house.  His house was wicked crazy- lots of historical artifacts and things all over – on the walls, ceiling – in cabinets – it was interesting, but a little weird.  I wish I could have taken pictures of this guy- he was wild.  We had one more church tour and then it was off to Tata… or so I thought.  Freddie and Joszi decided they needed a drink – so we drove 100 meters to the nearest cocsma and had a drink.  I had a Diet Coke because I was fading fast.  Funny thing about Joszi – he had a whole bag of Heinekens in the trunk – as we left that morning, I asked him if they were for later – and he replied with “maybe sooner than later.”  He also had a shot of Unicum from the bottle – it’s like Jaegermeister – but worse.  On the front of the bottle is a red cross – he claims that the cross means it’s “first aid.”  Sheesh.  He’s funny.  We had our drink and took off for home.  When we dropped Joszi and Edit off, she went in for the double cheek kiss – I had earned affection from Joszi’s wife- and I didn’t screw it up like I did with Tibor!!!  She actually asked some questions (through her husband) about my teaching experience and such – so she had warmed up to me a bit.  What a trip.  I feel good that I went – it gave people the opportunity to practice their English a bit- and gave me the chance to get to know them a little better.  Thankfully the cat survived the overnight absence- and all was well.