I Eat, therefore I Shop

Today was one of those days.  It all seemed so wonderful as I rolled out of my flat, early and eager to learn and teach.  I imagined that I would accomplish oodles of work and do it all perfectly.  But I began to make mistakes.  Small ones, then bigger ones.  I began to be so very hard on myself for each error.  By the end of the day I ran out of steam to complete my list of things to do living alone in Budapest. 

Note to self:  Be patient.   REMEMBER you are LEARNING!!

Part of my problem is getting used to the daily tasks that make up surviving in Hungary.  And missing I am missing my family and friends terribly. And, of course, the blueberry pancakes at the Queen Diner in Dryden.

Here is how I try to manage:    

1. Set out everything the night before.  I try to lay out my clothes and pack my backpack.  This usually involved internal arguments as to whether or not I need to carry that bloody heavy laptop, those bloody heavy books, and all the other bloody annoying things that I MIGHT need.  I rarely need it all.  But often they all go in.  
2. Decide what to shop for the next day.   What do I need, what can I live without and what was a waste of money the last time that I bought it.  I try to buy a few items each day (bread, milk, jam, cooking items) to make each trip up and down the hills of Buda worthwhile.  Yesterday I thought I could postpone the daily schlepping of groceries up the hill from Budagyongye (pretend the umlauts and diacriticals are all there) to my lovely but currently very cold flat.  I may have been influenced by my overdosing on Hungarian salami in all its forms.  So after my return from International House, I had to walk home, deposit the huge heavy backpack and then return down the hill for more bread, another brand of coffee (twenty two years ago there was often just one brand of anything), oil, salt, pepper, yogurt, cold cuts and of course, one of the many types of chocolate that they have in Europe.  I hope to try each one -- only because I wish to be an informed consumer, of course!
3. Stop if there is time at St. Janos Hospital tram stop.  The young guys there are now used to me trudging in, asking what this or that is and sitting next to their heater to finish my coffee.  If they aren't particularly busy (usually mid afternoon) they even write out words in Hungarian for me.  I suppose I could carry a dictionary with me, but since I have almost every other book possible, I prefer to learn as I go.   If I had LOTS AND LOTS of time, I might also get off at the stop where a huge picture of a French bulldog advertises "Kutya Mania" outside (it is a pet supply place).  Inside I found a lovely brindle Frenchie who laps up my attention and a couple who probably wonder who this mad woman is.  I also stalked an English bulldog three houses down from me, but he was only a visitor.  I wish I could borrow a dog and snuggle with him at night.  
4. At home, put on layers and layers of clothes.  The heat isn't on yet.  I would like it to be on, but heat is expensive and my landlord and his wife (who are wonderful) are concerned about the costs.  So far, I am toughing it out.  Today of course, I wore lots of layers and of course, it turned out to be a mild, beautiful autumn day.   
5. Set the alarm clock and my Hungarian Vodafone.  Hoping two alarms will awaken me from my early morning stupor.  As if the growling of motorists speeding to work doesn't.

There were some good moments today.  I got to observe Neil teach a long but excellent class and briefly met the lovely Hungarians who comprise that same class.  On Thursday, several of us newbies will be teaching.   I began to feel dizzy from the heat and stuffiness in the classroom and dived out to try to grab a burger (I KNOW.  I promised myself not to, but I was thinking junk food as comfort food might make me feel better).  To make a long story short, the fast food line was not fast and I was three minutes late for the start of the debriefing.  This of course pushed my nerves over the edge.  Tonight I sit looking through piles of scribbled notes and wonder what I was trying to say?  What did I mean?

This CELTA stuff is really intense.  I am going to need to concentrate on clear, simple notes and constant reading and re-reading of the packet they handed out to me.   Overall, I love my classmates and I am really learning a lot.  That was my point in trying the CELTA . . . to do something that I should have done long ago . . . learn a consistent, successful method of English instruction.

Now if they could only understand my funny accent.

Blessings to all of you reading this.