Leaving a friend’s flat this afternoon I saw a truly miniscule dog. in a pink and orange sweater. despite my usual loathing for large rats posing as canines I couldn’t help but smirk at this one, which broadened to a full on smile upon seeing its rather matching owner, a little old lady of the glowing knowing can’t knock down type slowly working her way down the hall. she looked at me, returning my smile, then cocked her head and said without question,

“You’re not Hungarian.”

I’ve been asked for directions, by Hungarians, six times this week alone.

went to balaton for the first time, properly, this weekend. not bad for a lake. not quite the sea, but it scratched the be-near-the-water itch. also had my first over an open fire pörkölt. good things come out of big pots and fire.

many hungarians seem to think a sewer is a good place for canoeing. they also think the supermarket is a good place for produce. there’s simply no accounting for taste.

a woman ran to catch the hev the other morning. jumped on the train, sat down across from me, closed her eyes and put her fingers together in buddhist meditation pose.

I’m translating the lyric poetry of Hobo (of hobo blues band, translator of ginsburg and the doors, among others, into hungarian). I apologize in advance to the hungarian people as a whole.

every now and again I run into my favorite neighbor, one of the little old ladies who shares a common courtyard. this time we conversed in a mixture of french, german, hungarian and sign language (mostly the latter as I barely speak the others). I got most of it, but I’m still dying to know why she kept pointing to her knees.

in the midst of all this I’m having an existential angst sort of week. since one cannot teach children while delving head first into that sort of thing (well, one can, and perhaps in a strange way one should, but this week this one’s thinking not so much) i’ll be busying myself with catching up on photos. school carnaeval, canoe trip and lake balaton, i’ve been surprisingly active even though it might appear I’ve not been doing a damned thing. though technically we’re both correct.

I’ve been procrastinating a lessons learned post. not because I don’t want to write it. I already have. but because I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to accept my conclusions. because I’m not sure I like where they lead. time, everything, slips through fingers so easily here, retrospection takes a back seat to, well, everything, which I’ve passed through only to not be so pleased with my discoveries.

I’ve just gotten back from the doctor where I enjoyed my book rather a bit longer than necessary due to not yet knowing that hungarian queues aren’t called by the staff but by the participants. new phrase to learn “who do I come after?”

while attempting to recover from yet another bout of flu / recent scraping of my eardrum I ran across this really cool brain trickery that I feel the need to pass along. 20 bucks to whomever can explain to me why this works ::

visual mayhem