I love the girls' school in Szulok. Their teachers have wonderful, kind faces, the girls are happy and come home with funny stories about boys, and the school puts on a terrific party. Maybe our kids are learning some things, too: they seem comfortable enough, surrounded by Hungarian and German all day long, but what they know and how much they are learning are secondhand observations. Firsthand, I know happiness, kind faces, and great parties, and that's good enough for me.
Two weeks ago, we attended Szulok's Farsang ball, its Carnival. Szulok is a
Swabian village, its roots in Hapsburg settlements across underpopulated areas of the Empire, intended as a buffer to the Turks and an agricultural expansion. So, when we celebrated Szulok's Farsang -- including skits, dancing and music -- we celebrated the culture of German settlers of Hungary.
The evening started with performances at seven, ending at eight thirty, at which time parents drove children home, returning for the ball which began in earnest near ten.
The two dozen students of the school were the first performers, demonstrating their
szolfézs skills with a live action Hungarian version of "Doe a Deer." They were, of course, darling.
The next group you can see better than I can describe. The suspenders and dance with beer steins under Bavarian caps don't say, Jo estét kivánok. They say, Grüß Gott, Freunden!
The next group was the teachers of the school. And when they performed a full-flavored dance to Rossini's "
Duet for Two Cats," I fell in love! Below you see Viktor, who teaches Amelia and Maisie, German and PE; Éva, the principal of the school, and maths and magyar teacher; Erzsebet (in glasses), who teaches Sophie's class as well as art and rides with the kids on the coach to Szulok every day, and another woman, who I think does many things around the school.
The next skit was very easy to follow; and if what the satire suggests is true, there are obnoxious students in Hungary as well as in the U.S. These adults, none of whom I recognized, played wonderfully swaggering students in colorful outfits.
The Szulok staff returned for a final dance, skirts on the front, masks and suits on the back. Being fascinated by the yin at the time, you'll now have to imagine the unpictured yang. Stephanie and I recognized only the masks of Orbán Viktor (the Hungarian prime minister) and Mr. Bean. Other masks depicted Hungarian celebrities from "
X Faktor."
The skit that preceded it, though, is the one we ended up talking about. In the following ways. One, explaining that what they were pretending to do under the sheet was having sex. Two, explaining that the balloons actors were throwing, including one landing on a first grader, were not balloons, but condoms. Three, explaining that condoms are rubber barriers a man wears to prevent his semen from impregnating the woman's egg. Four, explaining that priests do not usually have sex, which is what makes it funny. When you can, look carefully at the stage floor.
I learned later that the plot involved an overtaxed mother of three daughters, one of whom was in search -- in active search -- of a man with two penises.
The way Éva was snatching up condoms afterwards, I suspect skits next year will be closely regulated.
Finally we drove the children home -- slowly, then more slowly. Deer are legion between Szulok and Barcs at night. A few nights before, returning from Kaposvár, we had seen over fifty in three large herds. This night, we would see over two dozen. After we dropped off kids and slowly rushed back, we found the culture house mostly empty. Horvath Kata and her husband brought local wine and fresh
pogácsa (Hungarian biscuits), and we chatted and nibbled until people started arriving and dancing really began. By midnight, the place was in no ways empty.
The Swabian dancing was so fast and spinny! I was more nauseated watching it than trying it, and Stephanie and I did fine together after I fast-waltzed over her feet. The girls' principal was easily one of the best dancers in the very crowded room, and I was terrified when she pulled me over to dance, and mortified when she let me lead. I hope her toes are okay.
The evening was terrific. Great band, energetic and happy company, new moves. Stephanie and I resorted to untrained swing steps for every occasion--Swabian, Hungarian, samba, whatever--and had a great time, though we slipped out far earlier than anyone else at the ripe hour of half past one.
