grades

It's coming up to the time of year when I have to grade my students. I tried this once before with disastrous consequences, so I'm not really looking forward to it this time.

What you must first understand is that Hungarians aren't good with organising. Things are sort of done on an ad hoc basis, with little communication and absolutely no foresight. We were told this is due to the fact that for hundreds of years the Hungarians have had to deal with big problems - famine, war, invasion, poverty - so give little regard to the small problems of life. Like administration, time-keeping and planning. As long as they are not being invaded or dicked over by another nation, things are fine.

So trying to mark nearly 300 kids is no easy feat. There are no computer systems in place, hell there are no systems in place. Basically, you write a mark between 1 and 5 into the register depending on how well they have worked and hope you a) get the right kid b) give them a mark their teacher thinks they should get and c) give them a mark they assume they will get. Hungarians don't do well with criticism.

So I tried it before - I was asked to give the kids monthly marks and to not be too unkind. That was it. I deduced where the marks go and I also deduced that a 1 is the equivalent of an E, 5 an A. So I went through the register giving what I though were nice marks. At school I was taught that if you don't try, you don't do well. This was possibly the best lesson I ever got from my suburban British, pseudo-homosexual, trumped-up, high-standing boys grammar school. So I put this principle into action as I thought it is a good lesson for the kids. If I thought they had worked hard, been good kids and spoken to the best of their ability - 5. If they sat in the corner wit their mouth open for 45 minutes - 1. 

After hours and hours of work I was told this theory was wrong. I was supposed to give all the kids good marks, regardless. Silly me. It seems that just because you don't like to, or are unable to speak English this should not go against you in an English CONVERSATION class. Silly me. So the teachers told me off for giving too many 2s and 3s, and then the kids also went mental. Kids who I previously thought had some sort of brain damage suddenly became eloquent geniuses: 

"Why did I get a 3?" 

"Well, you don't really talk, you grumble and mumble when I make you talk and you only come to half the lessons." 

"But a 3 is a very bad mark in Hungary, why did I get a 3?"

"Because this is English Conversation. if you don't talk to me, you aren't doing very well."

"But 3 is a bad mark."

"But you are a bad student because you never talk to me. Good students in English speaking classes speak English."

"But I can speak English well."

"But you have never spoken English well to me."

"But 3 is not good enough."

Jesus.

I then found out giving a 3 or below is tantamount to raping the child. No teacher gives anything less than 4s or 5s without the risk of retribution. Now I may have been taught at a school where the the colour of your socks was an issue, but I don't think giving shit grades to shit kids is strict. But the kids do. They thought I was another one of those evil foreigners that they hear about, the ones that stomp all over them and generally ruin everything. I gave 3s, so I was as bad as the Ottoman Turks. Or Hitler.

So I will start to grade the kids again. I have two choices - buckle and give all 4s and 5s, even if the kid is a complete retard or stand by my guns. I think I'll buckle.

If I did stand by my guns it would be a lesson to the Hungarian kids. There is no one to blame but yourself for your failings. You got a 2 because I asked you what your name was and you looked at me as if I had just asked you to list Newton's laws of relativity. And I would award the kids who tried hard, even though they suck. And there are plenty of kids who really really try, who go purple with effort just to squeeze out another badly pronounced half-word. They will get 5s and I will heap praise on them. Their good marks would be a badge of honour and merit, like they should be.

But I won't. I have little under two months here and know trying to do anything in Hungary is like slamming your head into a brick wall, again and again and again. The fuck-wits can have their good grades, they are going to need them.

ritchie versus the sharkmen

Yes it's more from Ritchie, Szerencs pimp-daddio. Sometimes Ritchie likes to give me a tirade of bad English/Hungarian/miming to tell me a ridiculous story straight from his own imagination. I never ask for these tales, nor do any other students prompt him. I think I had just asked his friend something about football before he launched into the tale of Ritchie versus the Sharkmen.

It is going to be hard getting across all the subtleties of the tale of the Sharkmen, as this blog lacks the exuberance of a 13 year-old standing on a table, shouting at the top of his voice. Anyway, I digress.

Basically, the Titanic sank because of the Sharkmen shot shit at it. Yes, I know they say it was an iceberg, but that's just propaganda. Trust Ritchie, it was Sharkmen shit. So the Sharkmen sank the Titanic, and zoomed back down to the bottom of the sea. Then some super heores, possibly Dragonball Z men, followed the Sharkmen down into the depths. But the Sharkmen were too tough for them and ate them and shit on them, leaving them to perish with the passengers of the Titanic. It was a bloodbath, according to Ritchie's impressions of blood flying everywhere.

So Ritchie, adorned with a cape, jumped down in the blackness of the Atlantic to avenge the Dragonball Z guys. Lots of shooting and exploding ensued, Ritchie firing balls of fire at the Sharkmen, who were limited to trying to shit on him. I think Ritchie almost bought it at one point (he jumped off the table and did that noise boys do when they are imaginary shot), but he is a pretty awesome super hero so he recovered a la Balboa.

"The Sharkmen were *explosion and shot impression* then I *some sort of fireball impression* and everything was all *louder explosion* and then they were all fucked," said Ritchie.

So Ritchie defeated the Sharkmen. After this tale, I told him to sit down as he had gone very red and out of breath. But he had told his side of what happened that fateful night in 1912, so I guess it was worth the effort.

hungarian funnies

Hungarian humour is strange. And when I say strange I mean it's not funny, and I seem to be the brunt of much of it.

Being a teacher makes you realise that kids are relentless machines of torture, persecution and mockery. And persecution, mockery and torture and pretty much what make Hungarians laugh. So for a few hours a day I am their clown.

Everything is funny to them. I drop a pen, it is met with howls of laughter. A pen? it's not that funny is it? I mean everyone drops a pen occasionally, it's not a big deal. If I dropped a tray holding a ming vase then laugh by all means. If I slip on a banana skin, or walk into a glass door then please get it on youtube, let the world know what a clown I am. But dropping a pen? Give me a break. 

They also laugh at any of my attempted Hungarian, all of them do, it's like I am doing a silly voice whenever I try and say something like 'hello' or 'how are you?'. Which is bitterly ironic as many of them speak English terribly. Some of them have learned for 12 years, over a decade, and still pronounce 'suit' 'swweeeuuutt'. Maybe I should laugh at them.

But this week I got the biggest laugh. And I deserved it.

Having your fly undone is a schoolboy error anywhere in the world. But in the world of Hungarian teachers, it's professional suicide.

'OH MY GOD!!!!!! HE HAS HIS TRUSIERS UNMADE!!!!!'

This was followed by screeches of laughter. Hungarians don't have belly laughs like the rest of us, they only snort in contempt or screech at others' misfortune.

Hungarian humour is no exactly cutting edge. They like slapstick, following the world's unexplainable love of Benny Hill, they haven't got irony, or satire (they don't mock their politicians, they just wish unending torture upon them and their children) and they don't really get self-deprecation. Well, they sort of have it, but most of the jokes go something like this (these are real Hungarian jokes. I know some of it is lost in the bad translation of my students, but still):

'Why was the Russian in Budapest? Because the Russians always invade us and steal our land'. Or another: 'Why was the gypsy laying down? Because he doesn't work and steals our money'.

They don't get self deprecation as they are a self hating people. In these blogs it may seem that I don't like Hungarians, but by God they hate themselves more than anyone else ever could. If you see a smiling Hungarian they are either drunk, not in Hungary or thinking about someone else's misfortune.

So next time you want to punch the joker at work or switch off whatever catchphrase-based comedy is popular this month just take a second and think of me living in the land of anti-humour.