This afternoon, our family was invited to a gathering in the school library, where we were confronted with many colleagues and cakes and glasses of pálinka, and we were presented with farewell gifts -- including a book with farewell greetings, pictures, signatures and memories -- in a ceremony in my honor.
It included this oath:
Én, David Grosskopf esküszöm, hogy a Dráva Völgye Középiskolát második hazámnak tekintem, a középiskolának hű tanára vagyok és leszek, hagyományait örökre tiszteletben tartom. A szeretetreméltó tanártársaimmal töltött minden egyes pillanatot megőrzök, melyeknek emlékéül szolgáljanak e könyv oldalai is. A Dráva Völgye Középiskolát képességeimnek megfelelően szolgálom, Isten engem úgy segéljen!
I, David Grosskopf, swear that I consider Dráva Völgye Secondary School as my second home; I am and I will always be a faithful teacher of this secondary school; I will always respect its traditions. I will always treasure each moment spent with my loveable colleagues, the momento of which the pages of this are to be. I will serve Dráva Völgye Secondary School to the best of my abilities, so help me God!
I repeated things as best I could, in Hungarian, repeatedly calling the school Dráva Középiskola rather than Dráva Völgye Középiskola and making who knows what other mistakes, but I was thereby made a life member of the staff.
I didn't cry until nobody was looking, and we were having a group picture. But neither did I say much in response, though I have so much to say. Kristina agrees: my Hungarian reached its peak in February, and it's gone downhill. I became more fluid after the afternoon went on and Greece got farther away and glass after glass of pálinka (elég, Tamás!) softened the soles of my feet and my tongue too.
I do have some things to say, which I wrote in a letter I hoped Kata would translate when I thought we would miss the final school meeting (and so we did; but this second gathering was designed specifically for us).
If you are a teacher at DVK, perhaps you will take this letter and translate it, because I mean it whole-heartedly for you:
Dear DVK,
Endings come so suddenly, and one is never prepared as one should be. But this has been such an eventful and good year, and you all have done so much to make it a special one -- for me, for my family, and for our students -- and I will never forget your warmth, competence and generosity. Even though I can’t be there, I want to honor how important you’ve been.
Every Monday, Feri would greet me with a handshake and a question about my weekend. Every Wednesday or Thursday, Éva would look me in the eyes, and ask, Kasar? like I would disappoint her if I were busy. Péter would take out his iPhone and follow me around with “apps” he thought I would like. Barna always had time to explain a future event in full detail even though he was always in a mad rush. Some of you went out of your way to communicate with me, even though I rarely made it easy. Some of you made me drink pálinka – over and over. You welcomed us into your homes and it was easy to take you into our hearts, where memories of our time with you will be protected in a happy glow.
I’ve learned some things about Hungary, and about America as well. I’ve learned about a town where most people are worried about their incomes, but also where they greet each other like family on the street. I’ve learned about a city with only 12,000 people that nevertheless has so many pubs, restaurants, cafes and a thriving cultural community in its schools, culture house, and music school. And it’s surrounded by tremendous beauty and such lush forests and trees and far too many woodland paths to explore in one year: Barcs is a good place. No place this small in the United States offers so much. Americans like to live either together or alone, and so small towns are almost always populated by people who can spread far out within them. Here, even the villages are close and neighborly.
Americans have hurt themselves by lurching all over the country and breaking apart their families. We have so many sad people and so many obsessively searching and shopping for a better life when so much of the emptiness comes from casually leaving important people – as I am about to do again now. It is true that many Americans have money and more jobs, although we don’t take very good care of our poor and sick; but we could learn something from you about loyalty, love, community, and connection, not to mention pride in national poets, artists and historical heroes.
I’ve learned some things about teaching, too. The main thing I’ve learned is that teenagers are teenagers are teenagers. You’ll get some very smart kids and some that touch your heart and some that make you lose your hair. You give them challenges and, more often than not, they rise to meet them. In the end, the group that made me most crazy is the one for whom I am leaving with most affection – 9K – and this too is a familiar feeling.
You are very dear to me, as a community and as individuals, and I hope we will hear from each other from time to time. And if you ever make it to Seattle, you most certainly have a place to stay and people happy to take you in. I hope we might make your time there as memorable and beautiful as you have made our time here.
Thank you, for more than I can say.
David
It included this oath:
Én, David Grosskopf esküszöm, hogy a Dráva Völgye Középiskolát második hazámnak tekintem, a középiskolának hű tanára vagyok és leszek, hagyományait örökre tiszteletben tartom. A szeretetreméltó tanártársaimmal töltött minden egyes pillanatot megőrzök, melyeknek emlékéül szolgáljanak e könyv oldalai is. A Dráva Völgye Középiskolát képességeimnek megfelelően szolgálom, Isten engem úgy segéljen!
I, David Grosskopf, swear that I consider Dráva Völgye Secondary School as my second home; I am and I will always be a faithful teacher of this secondary school; I will always respect its traditions. I will always treasure each moment spent with my loveable colleagues, the momento of which the pages of this are to be. I will serve Dráva Völgye Secondary School to the best of my abilities, so help me God!
I repeated things as best I could, in Hungarian, repeatedly calling the school Dráva Középiskola rather than Dráva Völgye Középiskola and making who knows what other mistakes, but I was thereby made a life member of the staff.
I didn't cry until nobody was looking, and we were having a group picture. But neither did I say much in response, though I have so much to say. Kristina agrees: my Hungarian reached its peak in February, and it's gone downhill. I became more fluid after the afternoon went on and Greece got farther away and glass after glass of pálinka (elég, Tamás!) softened the soles of my feet and my tongue too.
I do have some things to say, which I wrote in a letter I hoped Kata would translate when I thought we would miss the final school meeting (and so we did; but this second gathering was designed specifically for us).
If you are a teacher at DVK, perhaps you will take this letter and translate it, because I mean it whole-heartedly for you:
Dear DVK,
Endings come so suddenly, and one is never prepared as one should be. But this has been such an eventful and good year, and you all have done so much to make it a special one -- for me, for my family, and for our students -- and I will never forget your warmth, competence and generosity. Even though I can’t be there, I want to honor how important you’ve been.
Every Monday, Feri would greet me with a handshake and a question about my weekend. Every Wednesday or Thursday, Éva would look me in the eyes, and ask, Kasar? like I would disappoint her if I were busy. Péter would take out his iPhone and follow me around with “apps” he thought I would like. Barna always had time to explain a future event in full detail even though he was always in a mad rush. Some of you went out of your way to communicate with me, even though I rarely made it easy. Some of you made me drink pálinka – over and over. You welcomed us into your homes and it was easy to take you into our hearts, where memories of our time with you will be protected in a happy glow.
I’ve learned some things about Hungary, and about America as well. I’ve learned about a town where most people are worried about their incomes, but also where they greet each other like family on the street. I’ve learned about a city with only 12,000 people that nevertheless has so many pubs, restaurants, cafes and a thriving cultural community in its schools, culture house, and music school. And it’s surrounded by tremendous beauty and such lush forests and trees and far too many woodland paths to explore in one year: Barcs is a good place. No place this small in the United States offers so much. Americans like to live either together or alone, and so small towns are almost always populated by people who can spread far out within them. Here, even the villages are close and neighborly.
Americans have hurt themselves by lurching all over the country and breaking apart their families. We have so many sad people and so many obsessively searching and shopping for a better life when so much of the emptiness comes from casually leaving important people – as I am about to do again now. It is true that many Americans have money and more jobs, although we don’t take very good care of our poor and sick; but we could learn something from you about loyalty, love, community, and connection, not to mention pride in national poets, artists and historical heroes.
I’ve learned some things about teaching, too. The main thing I’ve learned is that teenagers are teenagers are teenagers. You’ll get some very smart kids and some that touch your heart and some that make you lose your hair. You give them challenges and, more often than not, they rise to meet them. In the end, the group that made me most crazy is the one for whom I am leaving with most affection – 9K – and this too is a familiar feeling.
You are very dear to me, as a community and as individuals, and I hope we will hear from each other from time to time. And if you ever make it to Seattle, you most certainly have a place to stay and people happy to take you in. I hope we might make your time there as memorable and beautiful as you have made our time here.
Thank you, for more than I can say.
David
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