Well, here goes nothing. I figure that instead of trying to keep everybody updated individually and inevitably failing, it'd be easier to just do this. So, a brief run down of the past week and a half:
My plane was an hour late arriving. This meant I didn't get to the airport until 12:30 AM, and didn't clear customs until close to one. At this point, I was near panicking, since I figured that whoever had been going to pick me up had long since gone home, and I would have to try and find a hotel at night in another country where I don't speak the language. Not fun. But less than a minute after getting past security, I spotted Lengyel. I was indescribably relieved at that, to say the least.
So: loaded up into the car. Drove into the city. Understood that drivers were crazy people. Zoned out for a while. When I returned to planet Earth, the first thing I see is a big pink rotating sign, with "Szex Bolt" on one side and "Sex Shop" on the other. Ah, Europe. Found BSM student advisor, found landlord, found house, found bed.
Thursday: wandered around Pest and Buda by myself, got lost twice, got yelled at by scary men with dog, finally got home.
Friday: wandered around Buda and Pest with Lengyel, did not get lost or yelled at.
Saturday: wandered around Szent Istvan celebrations. Marvelled at Jimi Hendrix cover band, kiddie train, and air show. Got food poisoning. Saw fireworks.
Sunday: slept.
Monday: Started language school. Let me just make one thing clear: Hungarian is
hard. There are fourteen vowels. Fourteen. One-four. Can I hear fourteen vowels? No. Can I say fourteen vowels? Hell no. On the plus side, there are only three and a half tenses. Take that, future imperfect!
Generally speaking, math students are living up to stereotypes. More on that later, but suffice it to say expectations are being met.
Tonight was the "Love Parade," which was followed by massive parties. Never have I seen so few clothes and so much bodypaint. Or rather, so little bodypaint.
More later. Until then, Sziastok!
