The "artists"

Just over two weeks ago, I had an interesting encounter with the Headmistress in the hallway. Truth be told, most of the encounters I have with her are interesting because they are usually uncomfortable (as a result of the lack of language skills) and quick (so as to avoid the fact that we cannot communicate with eachother). This was no different. Soldier Martha as I call her (her last name is Katona = soldier and her first name Marta= Martha) ran into me in the hallway, and immediately greeted me and started speaking in rapid Hungarian. My immediate thought was “holy crap, she’s saying something to me, what do I do?” I was so surprised that we had crossed the threshold of simple greetings and were into information sharing I wasn’t sure how I should react… YIKES I better listen… and then, in a flash, she was gone. I stood there for at least 30 seconds before moving, still in a bit of shock that we had a “conversation” and then panic set in. Holy crap. She just told me something that is probably important, why else would she have made the effort to speak to me, and I have NO idea what she was saying. Crapcrapcrapcrap. I immediately went to Katie Brown’s office (Barna Kata is her name, Barna=Brown, Kata = Katie) to ask for help.

“KATA!!!! Martha just talked to me, and I think it was important.” She took me into Soldier Martha’s office and got down to business. I just stood in the middle of the two, looking from left to right as they conversed in REALLY fast Hungarian. I had whiplash by the time they were done – still not really knowing what was going on. The next thing I knew, I was given Soldier Martha’s cell phone. Katie Brown said to me “go ahead…” GO AHEAD?? What the hell was happening? I took the phone and said “szia, Carla vagyok” (Hi, this is Carla) On the other end of the phone, I heard “Hello Carla, My name is Kata and we would like English lessons” … um… “okay…” WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? “When would be good for you?” I asked. “Well, we think it would be best if you could come during a free period from the Gimnazium.” … well…. “Sure, that works…” I responded with a bit of hesitation in my voice. “Martha tells me you’re free tomorrow, so we’ll see you at 11. We live at 20 Var Utca. Thank you” ..click…

I took the phone away from my ear and looked at it for a few seconds, still wondering what had just transpired in the last 20 minutes, and then handed it back to Soldier Martha. I looked at her and Katie Brown, and said “rendben” (ok).

The next day, I left after the third period, map in hand to search for 20 Var Utca. Well, little did I know that there is no Var Utca in Tata. “Var” means castle – so I assumed that it was a street near the castle – makes sense right? Wrong. The street they live on is actually “Varlaja” Utca… colloquially known as “Var” Utca. Well, we all know how good my “colloquial” Hungarian is… hmph. I finally showed up to the house of Big Katie (Nagy Kata – “nagy=big) and Steven Smith (Kovacs István, Kovacs=smith, István=Steven). They are artists in Tata, and are looking to improve their English language skills. Kata is actually pretty good in English, but István hasn’t spent as much time studying it as Kata had, so the lessons would mostly be for him. We spent the next 45 minutes chatting about what they do, their apartment and their lives in Tata. I kept an eye on the clock, since it took me 15 minutes to get to their house in the first place, and I had to return to the Gimnazium for a 12:00 lesson. 11:47… 11:52… 11:55… I finally said, “well I’d better get going since I have to get back to the school…” to which Kata responded “yes, ok, and since you’re only here until January you must come twice per week!” Great…

I took off at a speed walk/light jog to get back to school. Knowing that I left their house at 12:00, I KNEW I was late already and was panicking. I raced past the castle and tore up the path leading to the school’s street. I turned the corner toward the school buildings and as I rounded past the last residence and could then see the school in sight – I stopped in my tracks. Who was meandering up the sidewalk to the school? Soldier Martha. ARGH! She can’t see me – if she does, she’ll know I’m 15 minutes late for class! So I did what anyone in that situation would do- I hid behind a tree. I watched her slowly work her way up the sidewalk, and once she was inside, I tore up to the school and ran into my class panting… 18 minutes late for class. Yikes! This cannot happen every time I go to do a lesson with the artists… too stressful.