The Journey Is The Reward: A Year of Teaching and Traveling in Rural Hungary

The Journey Is The Reward

A Year of Teaching and Traveling In Rural Hungary

By Mike Taylor

Copyright Mike Taylor 2010

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

From There to Here

A Transitional Phase

A Character Sketch

Teachers 'R Us

Down in the Valley

Father Christmas

My Best Day

Survival of the Foolish

A Great Fall

Buli, Buli

To Err is Human

Pictures

Peppers, Peppers, Everywhere and All Too Hot to Eat

The Beauty and the Beast

Gyor Place or Mine

La Dolce Vita

A Vacation within a Vacation

Old Friends

Fiestas y Siestas

Home and Back Again

The Neighborly Thing to Do

The Scary Castle on the Hill

No Quiz!

One (visitor) for the Road

Tale of Two Cities

From Here to There

Indulge Me

About The Author

Back Cover

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Acknowledgements

I’ve spent what seems like forever writing this book and have received a lot of encouragement and good advice along the way. I apologize to anyone who had a hand in this and doesn’t receive his or her fifteen seconds of fame.

Without a doubt, my family members have been great cheerleaders in all my efforts, however misguided, throughout my life. In particular, my mother gave me many good critiques during the novel’s infancy. She also painted the artwork for the cover.

Several of my friends, in addition to being cast members of this tale, have done proofing and made suggestions along the way. Thanks to all of them. Kristen English gave me a little push towards the finish line and continued to provide me with information about publishing. Tom Schulting, who never made it over to Hungary to see me, did an exceptional job in catching errors during the last few months of editing (and more importantly, fed my dog when I was on the road).

Finally, this book would not exist without my partner in crime. Sabrina was the one who joined me in my first adventure in Europe and encouraged me to always push out the edges of the envelope. She proposed that we teach English in Hungary, inspired me to write in my journal initially, and provided key insight as I entered the home stretch. Hopefully my meager writing skills did some justice to her strong character.

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A NOTE ABOUT SPELLINGS

I’ve butchered the Hungarian Language. All of the accents and umlauts have been removed from spellings. A thousand pardons to my Hungarian hosts.

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Prologue

I chose to teach English in Hungary for a year of my life. In many ways, this book evaluates that choice. Much of it was the happy adventure I expected, but there were a few bumps in the road. With every choice one makes comes rewards and consequences. The outcomes may be as expected, but often the desired results have a downside. When things turn out differently than planned, these alternate results often yield unexpected opportunities.

This philosophical view of good and bad events shapes my understanding of life. I search for silver linings. I believe they are often well hidden. I think that fulfillment of some dreams may lead down paths which are not always paved with gold. I’m a firm believer in prayer and pursuing goals vigorously, but I don’t pretend to understand the wisdom of every turn of events. I pray for those things important to me, work towards the ends I hope to attain, and try to find the learning when things turn out differently. I've found the grass may be greener on the other side, but it also may be raining there. How else could the grass become so green?

Despite this philosophy, I still put myself under the microscope and ask the question Was this experience worth a year of my time? The answer is most definitely. I am happy with my choice to spend a year teaching English in Hungary. It was a fantastic experience. I'd encourage anyone who has the opportunity to spend time in another culture to do so. If I further refine my questioning and ask Was teaching English in Hungary the best choice for that particular year of my life? My answer is a hesitant I don't know. Once again, my earthly wisdom fails me. I can only compare myself to my peers to answer this question. Most of them were out making money, building families, climbing career ladders, and being productive with their post-college years. I sometimes long for these things. I ponder roads I did not go down. But after a long run through the park, when my head is clear, I often smile and answer Yes. I did the right thing.

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The journey is the reward.

Tao Saying

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A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.

John Steinbeck

From There to Here

You’re going to Hungary? Why? My newfound friend asked me.

I just can’t get enough goulash. I smiled. It had become a common question recently. A question I sometimes asked myself. Later in my journeys, my Hungarian colleagues would ask it of me. I would then stumble through a more simplistic answer in broken Hungarian.

Let me see if I can give you the short version. I said as I took a sip of my beer and began to spin this tale once again.

I started working for Procter & Gamble right out of school as a Systems Analyst. Actually, not even a Systems Analyst, I was just an Analyst when I started. You don't get a modifier until you've worked there a year.

It was a good job and good money. I was playing the corporate game and working my way up the corporate ladder. I had mastered Procter-speak. You know, diversity, mission statements, paradigm shifts, lots of acronyms that mean nothing to anyone else. Despite being somewhat Dilbert-esque, I really have nothing but good things to say about P&G. It was a great place to work and they treated me well.

After about two years, I came up for air from my submersion in Corporate America and wondered if this was really where I wanted to be. Did I want to be here over the next forty years? The long-term part scared me: FORTY YEARS! Old and gray and never separated from the hallowed halls of Soap and Diapers was a recurring nightmare. This thought actually made me sick to my stomach. The day-to-day stuff was fine, it was running through this maze for the rest of my life that really depressed me.

Three things kept me from leaving immediately. The first was that I really wanted to stick it out for about five years. I felt by that time I would have had at least two different jobs within the company and would have the perspective to really know I wanted out. The five-year mark had a practical side as well. I would be vested and my car would be paid for. So much for youthful idealism. The third reason was that I had no idea what else I wanted to do other than the same kind of job for another company. Thus the long search began.

I spent a lot of soul-searching time trying to discover that job which would make me excited to get up in the morning. After about six months, I thought I had it - DISC JOCKEY! I was incredibly pumped up about being a disc jockey on some little dinky radio station and working my way up to the big leagues. It really was something in which I was interested. I had a good voice. I had done stand-up comedy. I loved music. I could be one of those hip morning-drive personalities who gave away things at hotel bars on the weekends. I was ready to tell my boss that I was going to quit. I was caught up in a whirlwind of excitement.

I related this career decision to a few of my peers: Those who I felt could be trusted not to throw me a going-away party before I had actually quit. One of them told me in a very heart-felt manner to stop and think about it. She said that once I quit, there was no turning back. Suddenly I got scared. The fever passed. Are you still with me? I said to my friend. I’d never really figured out a short way to do justice to this life-change.

My friend nodded. I think you should have done the DJ thing.

Sometimes I do too. I still feel some sadness in not having followed through on this. Of all the plan-du-jour's I had come up with, it was the only one about which I felt a true passion.

But I kept searching. I read the umpteenth edition of What Color is my Parachute and it helped. My parachute is blue by the way. I think that means my fashion season is spring. We both chuckled.

I decided the one thing I could never do at P&G was work with kids. I knew working with children was personally rewarding. I had been a camp counselor for a number of years. It was one of the best jobs I had ever had. I always thought this was a little crazy until I ran into a fellow counselor and she said that she felt crazy for feeling the same way. I finally decided teaching was the way to go.

So how long did all this take?

Well the whole process started about four years ago. But it took me two years to figure out what I wanted to do and then another year to gather enough courage to do it. I answered.

And this last year you've been back in school, right?

Right. I've been working on my teaching degree. After I made ‘the decision’ I started checking into teaching programs. I found a small state school that was inexpensive and would get me my masters and my teaching certificate at the same time.

Where was that again?

Northwest Missouri State. It's in the middle of nowhere. A town called Maryville. It’s thirty miles north of St. Joseph which is famous for Jesse James, the Pony Express, and being flooded. I answered and eyed the bottom of my glass.

So you up and quit?

I guess it was that simple. Although personally, it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I knew if I quit my job, I was not only leaving a good company with security and a cozy routine. Quitting my job meant leaving friends. It meant leaving my girlfriend, Sabrina. I almost called the whole thing off because of her. But she encouraged me to go through with it because she knew it's what I really wanted to do.

I continued, I remember having to practice ‘quitting’ with one of my best friends. I almost broke down in tears in my boss's office. I was surprised by how emotional it was for me. I really felt torn between the life I knew and the life I wanted.

But you and Sabrina are going to Hungary together, right?

Yeah. We didn't break up because of school. Cincinnati and Maryville are about 700 miles apart. We saw each other about every four weeks. We made the best of it. It was hard for both of us. I was in a lonely place, but it was where I wanted to be. She had a lot of friends, but she was feeling particularly unsatisfied and undervalued at work.

Sabrina really wanted to go to Europe to live and work. We had gone there together the summer before I left for school. I was willing to go, but I didn't want to start up a pizza parlor in Prague. My one condition was that the job was in some way related to the field of education. She took that condition and ran with it. A few weeks later she had information about teaching jobs in Hungary. We went through this place called Teach Hungary and they matched us up to a high school that needs English teachers.

So she quit her job too?

Last week. And it was almost as tough for her as it was for me. She wasn't really happy at work, but once the possibility of leaving became real, she had some second thoughts too. Just leaving a job has really been a learning experience for both of us.

And when do you leave?

In another week. August 15th. We're wrapping up some personal things now. Trying to learn a little bit of Hungarian. Both of us have Learn Hungarian the Fast and Easy Way permanently playing in the tape decks of our cars. I said.

Can you say anything yet? he asked

Some of the basic stuff. Thank you, Hello, Ket Sor Kerem.

What's that?

Two beers please. I answered as I waved to the bartender for another round.

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Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect.

Margaret Mitchell

A Transitional Phase

Just under the weight limit! Sabrina said enthusiastically.

We had packed well. Our luggage weighed the same at the Pittsburgh airport as it did on the bathroom scale at Sabrina's parents' house. The week that we spent scrutinizing every little thing that might be needed had been both tedious and exciting. We acted like Boy Scouts planning to be prepared for any possible situation. Batman's utility belt was no match for our travel bags.

We tried to pack lightly - this translates to a backpack, a trunk, and a carry-on bag. Surprisingly all my clothes (sans my winter jacket) would fit in my backpack. Into my ^%$&#* cardboard trunk, which I've had since 6th grade summer camp, I put toys and supplies: Grammar books, toiletries, roller blades, and a few other things which were so vitally important I can't remember them now. My carry-on bag held the real essentials - A Macintosh PowerBook laptop computer and a video camera. The computer would become indispensable. The video camera provided some amusement but could have been left at home.

Sabrina's luggage paralleled mine. She packed a trunk that would ultimately survive the round trip. She also carried her rollerblades and was the primary reason that I carried mine. The indispensable items in her carry-on bag were a back massager, which I was required to use often, and Trouble our faithful stuffed dog. I had purchased Trouble as a companion for Sabrina when I left for school. I believe I may have been more attached to him than she. A cute, fluffy white dog that was as sympathetic as you needed him to be and who could double as a pillow. He would see many continents with us.

Thank you so much for everything. I said to Sabrina's father.

It was our pleasure. Do you need any food before you take off? They have the best Philly cheese steaks here. He said.

Sabrina's father was a recently retired airline pilot from USAir. He and Sabrina's mom lived in a suburb of Pittsburgh. We had come there a week earlier to put Sabrina's stuff in storage and get ready for the trip. Some of my stuff made the trip as well. Other portions of my few remaining worldly possessions were scattered among friends in Cincinnati. I really didn't have as much stuff as most 28-year-old professionals. I had never been much into buying things and I had given a lot of it away prior to going to graduate school.

After refusing food several times on our way to our gate, Mr. Staley ran off to a nearby eatery and returned with a couple of giant cookies.

Here. You'll thank me later. These are great.

Thanks Dad. Sabrina said. She wrapped them up and carefully placed them in the only empty pocket of her knapsack. I think we're going to board now. She hugged him and I shook his hand. We made our way to the steward taking tickets. Sabrina was teary eyed and never looked back. She was embarrassed. She rarely got emotional.

I can't believe I'm crying. She said.

It's okay. You know how I was the day I left work. It's your turn. I answered.

She wiped her eyes as we walked down the walkway. Bring on the free booze! she said jokingly as we entered the airplane. We were both nervous and excited. A new chapter in our lives had officially begun.

This is an INTERNATIONAL airport? Sabrina said as we stood in the customs line.

We were both shocked by the size, or lack there-of, of the Budapest international airport. I had seen bus stations that were larger.

I guess international just means that the country is too small to have INTRA-national flights. I said.

She pointed out, I see a Teach Hungary sign.

Excellent. Hopefully they've got transportation arranged. I don't know what we'll do if we have to carry all this very far. I can only carry these trunks about 20 feet at time. There's too much LUG in our luggage. I said as I stepped forward in line and dropped them to the floor.

We found our teaching jobs through Teach Hungary. A young woman that had been teaching in Hungary on her own founded the organization. She saw the need for conversational English teachers and realized that most English