Choir Concert

Friday night was our big St. Marten’s Day Choir concert.  This was the first official concert for me, as my debut performance was at the church near Pápa.  I made sure to double check this week on the uniform – yes it was still in fact a white shirt and black pants.  No problem.  I got home from school on Friday and packed some things for my trip to Gyula (for Vivvi’s birthday party) and got ready for the concert.  I think this was the first time since I arrived in Hungary that I applied eye makeup – as this was in fact a big day.  I hopped on the bus and headed towards the town hall for our pre-concert practice.  I felt fairly confident because I knew the bus system, I knew where to get off, I knew where the Town Hall was (or so I thought…) I got off at the stop near the church and started to walk down the street to the right.  I knew I was going in the right direction because I had been to this square before, it shouldn’t be a problem.  BUT – the only other times I had been to this square I was on foot.  Dang, this doesn’t look right.  Dang again, I thought I could turn here to get to the square that I need.  Uh-oh – I better turn around and try again… on the way back, I ran into one of the Lotzi’s (also in the Irish Band) and asked him if he was going to the concert tonight.  He said yes he was (I secretly got excited because I thought that I could just follow him…) and then he told me that he wasn’t singing, he was just going to attend.  Damn, there went my secret plan.  OK- so I’m back to the area where the bus dropped me off… oh yes – there is the post office, I was supposed to go left, not right.  No big deal, since I now fully operate on Hungarian time.  I was supposed to be at practice at 4:30… I took the 4:20 bus (which arrives at my stop 5 minutes later than the posted time) and then got lost, and when I rolled into the town hall at 4:50 I was the third one there.  Hmph.  I love Hungarians.  The town hall was a beautiful bright yellow building with marble stairs leading up to the large room we sang in.  There were about 100 chairs set up in the room, and a small table in the corner with figurines of the buildings of Tata.  There couldn’t have been a cuter place to sing.  People started trickling in, and Jozsi began to set up a slide show of pictures from our trip.  Oh no… please don’t show the pictures from the Pápa trip.  I look like a lost child in all of the pictures.  I’m always forlorn, and looking the opposite direction of where the action is.  I swear, it’s like they planted me to look like a foreigner without a clue… at any rate, there were the Pápa pics larger than life behind us as we began to warm up.  As I stood there, I noticed several things that were wrong with me in the picture.  First, at the initial performance I had, it was a white shirt black pant uniform, though it was so cold in the church, none of us took off our coats exposing our outfits.  This time, we were indoors and it was nothing if not warm in that room.  It was only then that I realized that the unspoken rule was a long sleeved white shirt – and sure enough, I had short sleeves.  Damn.  Strike one.  The second, and perhaps more pronounced difference, is that all of the men had on a maroon tie, and all of the women had on a maroon neck scarf that tied with a bunch of maroon roses.  No scarf for this girl.  Damn.  Strike two.  Last, but certainly not least, each member of the choir had a matching maroon velvety folder that held their music.  Me?  I had a one inch blue binder with plastic on the cover so you could insert a sheet of paper if you’d like.  Hmph.  Strike three.  Combine all of these factors, and then do the worst thing you could think of – place me front and freaking center – and then we have a choir concert worth talking about.  Seriously.  We left at about 6:10 and went to a different room to continue warming up for our concert.  We ran through several of the songs and then got ready to walk out into the big room.  On our way in, Kata threw a scarf at me (lord knows where she got it – I’m pretty sure it was hers- so I was at least semi prepared now)  As we paraded into the room, I noticed that the crowd was standing room only.  There were more people than chairs!  Could this be?  Yikes, now I was a bit nervous.  On top of it all, despite the fact that there was a “retro-disco” dance at the school, some of my students had shown up to watch me perform.  In addition, there were at least a half dozen other teachers from the school, and there certainly was some healthy pointing at the “American teacher” to spouses and friends.  Well, now I was officially nervous.  Of course, we started with a crazy Hungarian folk song that everyone and their mother knows, and it’s sung at warp speed.  So, as I was going through the initial “jojj megakát….” I just started laughing and went for it.  Anyone there who knew me, understood that I had quite a handicap going in and hopefully they appreciated the fact that I was trying.  If not, screw ‘em.  The concert proved to be not only more enjoyable than I had anticipated, but more professional as well.  Kata did some talking about things on a slide show – not sure what she said or what the pictures were of, but hey- it looked professional… and there was even a professional singer there who did some little interlude things.  Wow, we’re legit!  The kids enjoyed the concert and were impressed that I had even tried, let alone was successful in my endeavor to become part of a Hungarian choir. 

After the concert, there was a party at a “friend of the choir’s.”  What?  We have a fan club?  Weird!  There is apparently a husband and wife who really enjoy the music and the people – so they offered to host all of us and our friends at their house.  I was not sure what to expect as this was my initial fan club party, but hey – they always have a good time, I’m in!  I rode with Erika to the party, and was totally overwhelmed when I walked in to smell something so heavenly I knew I could only be in Hungary.  There was a pörkölt (stew) going, bread bread and more bread, and deserts abounding!  I could not believe it. There were picnic bench like tables and everyone packed in (sitting appropriately on a random seat cushion to protect the groin from a cold) for a nice meal.  There was homemade wine, both white and red, and water with gas.  Such a Hungarian meal.  I really had a chance to stop and think about how proud I am of myself for getting out of my comfort zone and sticking with this group.  They are the nicest most caring people, all of course concerned with whether or not I’m eating enough… After the meal was served and we were into the deserts, things got crazy.  Tibor (not my favorite Tibor, but the one who I think was handsome in his prime) broke out his accordion.  Yes, I’m friends with an accordion player.  He rocked that thing and of course, people sang along.  What a trip.  When I was just thinking of leaving, someone started klinking their glass, and it was time for a toast.  Little did I know that the toast was about me (until I heard Amerikai and Carla being said).  Istvan (Kata’s husband) was toasting me, thanking me for being a part of the group and officially welcoming me to their community.  I was being inaugurated into the choir officially, even though I didn’t have a scarf- how nice of them!!!  THEN, after applause and after some lady claimed I brought the average age of the choir down by 50 years, they sang a song to me.  The lyrics were something about being three friends all together as one and welcoming a new friend.  It was strange and wonderful all at the same time.  Having 40 people surround you – many of whom you don’t know –as they were friends of the friends of the choir-  staring at you, singing to you and you not knowing what the hell they are singing about.  It was fabulous.