LESSONS

Over the next few days we registered at the university, met a few Hungarian students, learned how to grocery shop, and started Hungarian lessons.

Our instructor Kati smiles much more than any Hungarian we’ve met; she is kind and understanding and tries to make our two hour lessons fun and practical. For example: just when our brains were starting to wilt, Kati clapped her hands, ordered us out of our seats, and played a Hungarian version of “Simon Says.” She is always willing to answer questions on which trains to ride, what allergy medicine to buy, where to get our favorite foods, and what restaurants to avoid.

I cannot pronounce any of the “o” or “u” vowels very well and forget most of what we learn. But we are all struggling together; that first day, our group erupted in laughter after collectively slaughtering words and phrases such as “Hogy hivnak?”—“What is your name?”—and “Magyrorszag”—“Hungary.”

We try out the words we learn at the coffee shop down the street and around Budapest, but, as we are horrible at pronunciation, most people just respond in English…or with a puzzled frown. Kati tells us our first “test” will be at the market—we’ll use our limited vocabulary to order fruits and vegetables from the vendors. Ha. Good one, Kati.