Today I was in the office, and the school secretary sister handed me a banana. I declined, as I am not really a fan, but we (self, secretary, principal) started talking about them. I said that when people immigrated to America from, for example, Slovakia, they didn't know what a banana was because they had never seen one.
The principal told me that here, older people started eating bananas about 30 years ago. They didn't see what the fuss was all about, because it reminded them of potatoes that had been in the pivnica (cellar) too long. Evidently, old bad potatoes get sweet and are a lot like bananas.
17 September 2008
Feeling fundamental
I must say, I love how I have been taking a break from the computer while I'm in Ružomberok. In the evenings, I listen to music (these days usually a combination of Pete Seeger/folk, Johnny Cash and operas) or podcasts of American public radio like The News from Lake Woebegon, Car Talk, This American Life, The Moth, and Studio 360. I also have a season pass for Mad Men from iTunes, and really enjoy watching it -- but that and the TV evening news is about all the TV I watch. Watching the TV news is part of my daily routine in Ružomberok -- I have my evening food and then watch the TV news with the sisters who watch it.
So, I need the internet and I need my computer to keep the flow of podcasts and music coming, but I thoroughly enjoy how it's not attached to me at the hip the way it would be if I was in America. I love giving myself the gift of actually listening. I didn't bring any books with me, which is so totally fine with me, because I've been writing and thinking more, and I feel like I have my brain back because I can actually think through and organize my thoughts in my head. Further, being around my books is an important part of me establishing my comfort zone, kind of like Linus and his blanket, so it's good for me to be weaning myself of that need. Because it's a heavy (both physically and mentally) need.
But having my brain back is so excellent and it's just one of the reasons I'm so incredibly happy here. It's also why me being in a convent half of the week is really great -- my day has structure, which to an extent carries over into the time I'm not in the convent, and when I'm there I'm reveling in the quiet and not being busy -- I have plenty of time to do what I need and I never have to hurry. It's so wonderful.
So, I need the internet and I need my computer to keep the flow of podcasts and music coming, but I thoroughly enjoy how it's not attached to me at the hip the way it would be if I was in America. I love giving myself the gift of actually listening. I didn't bring any books with me, which is so totally fine with me, because I've been writing and thinking more, and I feel like I have my brain back because I can actually think through and organize my thoughts in my head. Further, being around my books is an important part of me establishing my comfort zone, kind of like Linus and his blanket, so it's good for me to be weaning myself of that need. Because it's a heavy (both physically and mentally) need.
But having my brain back is so excellent and it's just one of the reasons I'm so incredibly happy here. It's also why me being in a convent half of the week is really great -- my day has structure, which to an extent carries over into the time I'm not in the convent, and when I'm there I'm reveling in the quiet and not being busy -- I have plenty of time to do what I need and I never have to hurry. It's so wonderful.
Smells like Christmas
Usually the convent is really quiet and I don't see many people, I just hear them walking.
It merits explanation that it seems to me that Slovak people have a really complicated relationship to their footwear. They seem to feel strongly that it is really bad for one's feet to wear the same pair of shoes all day. Further, and this I can understand, it is much cleaner if you wear slippers rather than walking around the house in your shoes that have been outside. In school, the kids all wear slippers, and some of the teachers do. Normally I don't because I'm really not used to it and I wear very comfortable shoes to begin with, but in the convent and apartment I wear slippers because it's what one does. It is also can be kind of important to have 2 pairs of slippers, one for inside and one for outside, though this area can get a bit grey.
So the sound I usually hear is the sound of slippers shuffling around.
But last night was different. When I went downstairs for my evening food (which was absolutely amazing by the way: sauteed red peppers, onions, tomatoes and tvaroch + Slovak bread, which is also really great and has no real American equivalent. Tvaroch is a highly mysterious thing to me, and it's closest American equivalent is farmer's cheese, but it's not farmer's cheese), there were a lot of voices, and it was kind of loud.
So after I ate, I brought my dishes into the kitchen, and there was everyone, baking cookies! It appears that there were 2 or 3 groups of rolling dough and cutting out the little heart shapes, putting the cutouts onto trays, and putting egg yolks on them. Then others were carrying trays to and from the oven, and setting the baked cookies in trays and layers with paper. Quite similar, in fact, to the process of making medovniki in Uniontown.
The sisters were making the cookies to benefit a mission on some island either in Africa or the Caribbean, and they'll be selling them for 12Sk over the next few weeks. I'm thinking the taste was maybe nutmeg or clove, it wasn't cinnamon. The cookies were like medovniki, but they weren't. Evidently, they're what Christmas here smells like.
It merits explanation that it seems to me that Slovak people have a really complicated relationship to their footwear. They seem to feel strongly that it is really bad for one's feet to wear the same pair of shoes all day. Further, and this I can understand, it is much cleaner if you wear slippers rather than walking around the house in your shoes that have been outside. In school, the kids all wear slippers, and some of the teachers do. Normally I don't because I'm really not used to it and I wear very comfortable shoes to begin with, but in the convent and apartment I wear slippers because it's what one does. It is also can be kind of important to have 2 pairs of slippers, one for inside and one for outside, though this area can get a bit grey.
So the sound I usually hear is the sound of slippers shuffling around.
But last night was different. When I went downstairs for my evening food (which was absolutely amazing by the way: sauteed red peppers, onions, tomatoes and tvaroch + Slovak bread, which is also really great and has no real American equivalent. Tvaroch is a highly mysterious thing to me, and it's closest American equivalent is farmer's cheese, but it's not farmer's cheese), there were a lot of voices, and it was kind of loud.
So after I ate, I brought my dishes into the kitchen, and there was everyone, baking cookies! It appears that there were 2 or 3 groups of rolling dough and cutting out the little heart shapes, putting the cutouts onto trays, and putting egg yolks on them. Then others were carrying trays to and from the oven, and setting the baked cookies in trays and layers with paper. Quite similar, in fact, to the process of making medovniki in Uniontown.
The sisters were making the cookies to benefit a mission on some island either in Africa or the Caribbean, and they'll be selling them for 12Sk over the next few weeks. I'm thinking the taste was maybe nutmeg or clove, it wasn't cinnamon. The cookies were like medovniki, but they weren't. Evidently, they're what Christmas here smells like.
Kružok Question
1. Do you want to be famous?
2. What would you want to be famous for?
3. What would be good about being famous?
2. What would you want to be famous for?
3. What would be good about being famous?
The answers I was getting from the students mostly were along the lines of "Johnny Depp!" and "to have a big house and nice car!" so I asked them if it was possible to be famous but not rich, with the (obvious) example of Mother Teresa. Some of their other answers were "to have a lot of friends" and "to have people like me", so we talked about how this was possible without having a lot of money. I'm so absolutely fascinated by their answers to all of my open-ended questions, because they could be anything, and sometimes they really suprise me.
"Open the box Miss Teacher!"
- Have I said yet how much more I can come closer to understanding why my mother was so tired when she got home from work? And how I can come closer to understanding why the last thing she would have wanted to do when she got home every evening would have been to cook dinner? I'm teaching 10 45-minute periods in 3 days and it's definitely enough.
- Every day, I tend to be horrified of how I may have acted as a student. On the other hand, I also realize a) how normal I was, and b) how this is yet more proof that people everywhere are more alike than they are different (thus rendering war, for example, a very bad thing).
- For example: students, if you pass notes, I will see you, even if my back is turned. Why? Either a) I have eyes in the back of my head, b) I wasn't born yesterday, or c) both.
- It is highly annoying to have chalk all over me. It makes the students giggle, as if they have never seen such a thing, and I need to wash my hands after every class because it's just annoying.
One of my main teaching tools this week was an empty box. The students didn't necessarily know it was empty, although one class thought that it was and kept yelling for me to open the box. This was not bad, because at least they were speaking to me 1) in English and 2) imperatively, regardless of whether or not they knew it. However, the line of questioning was something like this:
- What is this?
- What's in the box? (one of the more interesting answers: ambition, from a 9th grader)
- What's outside of the box?
- What's not in the box?
- What would you put in the box?
- To whom would you give the box? (One answer was Axl Rose.)
- How would you wrap the box?
- What color is the box?
- Where would you send the box?
I'm also learning that being a language teacher requires a great deal of animation. Luckily, it seems my personality is conducive to this sort of behavior. ;) The rule of the week has been that "I don't know"/"Neviem" is not an answer. When someone says it, I've been writing it on the board and Xing it out to the max.
16 September 2008
Kružok Question
For those students so inclined, after school on Tuesdays and Wednesdays I have an extra 45 minutes of after school English conversation practice, which also includes the encouragement of creative thinking. I prepare one question that we discuss for the entire time -- usually it takes a while to understand the question, and then a while to formulate an answer, etc. But they've told me it's good for them, so I'm happy and feel it's time very well spent.
I thought it would be cool to post these on the blog and then if you're so inclined, please leave a comment (if you are subscribed to the blog via e-mail, click through to the blog) with your answer.
So:
I thought it would be cool to post these on the blog and then if you're so inclined, please leave a comment (if you are subscribed to the blog via e-mail, click through to the blog) with your answer.
So:
You have €1,000,000 that you must give away. How will you do it?
15 September 2008
Jadranská torta
So. Cake layer, cacao goodness though not overwhelming. Filling layer, buttercream and crushed hazelnuts, fresh from a tree in Sobrance. Top layer, gelatinous gelatin giving a smooth texture. Super yummy.
Music: A od Prešova
(If you are subscribed to this blog via e-mail, you may need to click through to the website to get everything from this post.)
I really love this waltz:
(and here's a link to the sheet music)
There's another song at the end of the track, which nicely complements the first part.
I'd heard it before, but last week, last Sunday, the family of the convent's superior stopped by the convent en route from a folklore festival in the Czech Republic on their way back to their village near Prešov, and they played this song along with dancing and other songs. Excellent.
I really love this waltz:
(and here's a link to the sheet music)
There's another song at the end of the track, which nicely complements the first part.
I'd heard it before, but last week, last Sunday, the family of the convent's superior stopped by the convent en route from a folklore festival in the Czech Republic on their way back to their village near Prešov, and they played this song along with dancing and other songs. Excellent.
14 September 2008
Music: Attention, please.
(re: video -- A rather insipid version, but the only one I could find.
The train station tone is much more utilitarian, sans the superfluous instrumentation and Czech.)
The train station tone is much more utilitarian, sans the superfluous instrumentation and Czech.)
When they make an announcement in the train station, the signal that there is an announcement is the first few notes of the song "Jedna ruža, dve ruže." I mentioned this to Petra, who laughed and then we sang a bit of it together. Now that I look it up, I wonder why we only learned the first two verses of the song in Slovak class...? ;) On the other hand, I'll be thinking of this song whenever I'm in the train station.
Weekend
I had an excellent weekend with Petra's family -- great company, great food, great company. It turns out that last Friday, 8 September, is my (and Petra's mom's and grandmother's, and half of the parish's and a good amount of the entire country's) name day. So we had a nice day and went to church Friday evening. Saturday we made this really excellent cake, and then today preemptively celebrated my forthcoming birthday.
Unfortunately I didn't have my camera with me... Here are some other pictures.
¡¡¡I almost forgot the most adventurous part of the afternoon!!! The grounds of the country house were used as hunting grounds by the family, who used the house mainly as a hunting lodge. We had some trouble finding the way in (all of the signs are in Hungarian, most not translated) and so we walked in towards the house through a park that is related to the house but isn't part of it. The house was fenced in, and we were walking along the outer perimeter -- so we could see the house but couldn't get to it. It really didn't matter because it was a nice day, and they were pleasant woods. Anyway, at one point as we were walking, Petra spotted a grenade, intero as they say in Italian. Alas, these sorts of things are around, but wow. Who knows how it got there, or how long it had been there, which doesn't diminish its potential danger.
I was concerned because I didn't have my passport with me, but it wasn't even a problem because now Slovakia, Hungary, et. al. are Schengen countries now, and we entered Hungary by turning off the road onto a short gravel section that was paved once we entered Hungary -- they used EU funds to pave the road (previously a path for bicycles and local foot traffic) -- and once again I heard the phrase, "Welcome to Slovakia." No guards or control whatsoever. Evidently this region of Hungary is autonomous, and they have spent a lot of time and money developing a tourist infrastructure, because it's the only part of Hungary that is mountainous, so people like to visit it.
On the way back to Slovakia, where I was going to get the train in Michaľany, we stopped to see if we could get into the Greek Catholic church in the village. An old lady who lives across the street was out, and Petra's mom got out of the car to go talk to her. It turns out she spoke the local Zemplen dialect perfectly, which is good because otherwise there would have been major communication issues. It's so amazing, from their houses they can see what is now Slovakia, but really only the older people can communicate in either the dialect or Hungarian. It turns out that these ladies knew someone from Petra's village because she grew up there and then married someone from Petra's village -- and Petra and her parents knew the lady but had never heard her speak Hungarian -- because no one else in the village does!
There's one train a day that goes directly to Prešov. It starts in Čierna nad Tisou (cf. 1968) and goes as far as Prešov, via Košice. As far as Košice, I was with a friend of Petra's family who I'd met years ago in Rome, and we had a pleasant time chatting on the way about a lot of things. Quite excellently, she said to me, "You're at home here with us" which is very, very true. Also excellently, she extolled the virtues of we Rusyns, though stopped short of self-identifying as one.
Originally, I was going to go straight to Ružomberok, but I had to come back to Prešov to take care of something. The weather is getting colder and it's going to be rainy (last weekend it was so hot and humid, this weekend it's the opposite). I had wanted to go walking in the hills around Ružomberok and thought I'd be able to tomorrow because it's a holiday and we have off -- and obviously normally I wouldn't be able to, but this is just as well.
Also today, we went to a country house in Hungary that used to be owned by the Károlyi family -- they were somehow closely connected to Ferenc II Rákóczi, but I am largely ignorant of the history of the Hungarian aristocracy -- they also were owners of extensive vinyards and connected to the Hollóháza Porcelain company. This house is in Füzérradvány (try to pronounce that), which is really very close to the border. In fact, it would be very possible to go there via bicycle from Petra's house, that's how close it is. The house is beautiful, with some unusual architectural details that really make it unique. There were two really cool things in the house -- reliefs of phoenixes in the backs of the fireplaces, and really nice built-in bathtubs.
Of course, the house had undergone many changes over the years, and one notable euphemism being when the house was "put under government management" and made into a hospital or sanatorium or something, and all of the Italian Renaissance and Baroque-era furniture the family had collected was lost. There remains beautiful columns. We were guided through the place by a really well-meaning docent who spoke like no English and no Slovak, only Hungarian. This meant that Petra and I were completely unable to ask any questions, and there was a lot of lost in translation going on. But it was fun to listen to Hungarian, which has such an interesting sound and yet is also totally incomprehensible to me.
It was rather strange seeing such a strictly Italian country house so rather out-of-context, but maybe in some ways the diverse Austro-Hungarian Empire was like a precursor to today's cultural pluralities and globalization.
Of course, the house had undergone many changes over the years, and one notable euphemism being when the house was "put under government management" and made into a hospital or sanatorium or something, and all of the Italian Renaissance and Baroque-era furniture the family had collected was lost. There remains beautiful columns. We were guided through the place by a really well-meaning docent who spoke like no English and no Slovak, only Hungarian. This meant that Petra and I were completely unable to ask any questions, and there was a lot of lost in translation going on. But it was fun to listen to Hungarian, which has such an interesting sound and yet is also totally incomprehensible to me.
It was rather strange seeing such a strictly Italian country house so rather out-of-context, but maybe in some ways the diverse Austro-Hungarian Empire was like a precursor to today's cultural pluralities and globalization.

¡¡¡I almost forgot the most adventurous part of the afternoon!!! The grounds of the country house were used as hunting grounds by the family, who used the house mainly as a hunting lodge. We had some trouble finding the way in (all of the signs are in Hungarian, most not translated) and so we walked in towards the house through a park that is related to the house but isn't part of it. The house was fenced in, and we were walking along the outer perimeter -- so we could see the house but couldn't get to it. It really didn't matter because it was a nice day, and they were pleasant woods. Anyway, at one point as we were walking, Petra spotted a grenade, intero as they say in Italian. Alas, these sorts of things are around, but wow. Who knows how it got there, or how long it had been there, which doesn't diminish its potential danger.
I was concerned because I didn't have my passport with me, but it wasn't even a problem because now Slovakia, Hungary, et. al. are Schengen countries now, and we entered Hungary by turning off the road onto a short gravel section that was paved once we entered Hungary -- they used EU funds to pave the road (previously a path for bicycles and local foot traffic) -- and once again I heard the phrase, "Welcome to Slovakia." No guards or control whatsoever. Evidently this region of Hungary is autonomous, and they have spent a lot of time and money developing a tourist infrastructure, because it's the only part of Hungary that is mountainous, so people like to visit it.
On the way back to Slovakia, where I was going to get the train in Michaľany, we stopped to see if we could get into the Greek Catholic church in the village. An old lady who lives across the street was out, and Petra's mom got out of the car to go talk to her. It turns out she spoke the local Zemplen dialect perfectly, which is good because otherwise there would have been major communication issues. It's so amazing, from their houses they can see what is now Slovakia, but really only the older people can communicate in either the dialect or Hungarian. It turns out that these ladies knew someone from Petra's village because she grew up there and then married someone from Petra's village -- and Petra and her parents knew the lady but had never heard her speak Hungarian -- because no one else in the village does!
There's one train a day that goes directly to Prešov. It starts in Čierna nad Tisou (cf. 1968) and goes as far as Prešov, via Košice. As far as Košice, I was with a friend of Petra's family who I'd met years ago in Rome, and we had a pleasant time chatting on the way about a lot of things. Quite excellently, she said to me, "You're at home here with us" which is very, very true. Also excellently, she extolled the virtues of we Rusyns, though stopped short of self-identifying as one.
Originally, I was going to go straight to Ružomberok, but I had to come back to Prešov to take care of something. The weather is getting colder and it's going to be rainy (last weekend it was so hot and humid, this weekend it's the opposite). I had wanted to go walking in the hills around Ružomberok and thought I'd be able to tomorrow because it's a holiday and we have off -- and obviously normally I wouldn't be able to, but this is just as well.
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