It's a Szolnok life. My First Week.

When I got off the plane I was greeted by my coworker Jason and his fiancee, Caroline. Jason is an accomplished traveler who would take his lovely bride to be on a whirlwind tour of the finest Europe had to offer. I would be doing pretty much the opposite of that.

In my first week in Szolnok Jason would teach me how to work, how to order in restaurants, and how to drive. I was like an estranged, temperamental, slow witted son reunited with his father for one magical, disorienting week. It was unseasonably warm when I arrived, with clear skies and no snow on the ground, but in a few days it would constantly alternate between rain and snow. It was like Hungary had heard that a big, important American was arriving and had cleaned up special, but once it saw me struggle to heft by sister's borrowed purple suitcase into the back of our company's rented Ford Fiesta, it decided just to let its winter all hang out.

Our company's European contingent is based in Szolnok, Hungary: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Szolnok. You can bet this Wikipedia page got torn to shreds as I looked for any information related to my impending adventures. Szolnok is actually a lovely town, and as winter melts into spring I get to see both snowflakes and blossoms fall onto its cobblestoned streets.

Work Break

Sometimes I like to take a break and talk about what I do at work. 

In addition to my regular duties as a documenter, I also safeguard our security keys, collecting them at the end of the day and taking them back to my hotel room. I keep them in a box they had been originally brought by the Hungarian team to the US, filled with candy and labeled "Hungarian Pride":

Why is the lid on the Hungarian Pride box open? Because you cannot contain Hungarian Pride.

Admittedly I only brought it back because I thought they would refill it with candy.

Most of our team sits around a large black table in the middle of our office.  Jason takes me around to introduce me to the 10 guys who comprise our day to day team. How can I convey what it's like to have a wizened guide introduce a nervous, inexperienced homebody to a foreign group of warriors with names like Csaba, Zoltan and Szabolcs?

Learning to Drive

So cars with automatic transmissions are very expensive to rent, and Jason was fine with a manual transmission. I...was...not. I had never driven a stick shift before, but what better way to learn than in a foreign, snow covered country, full of new mothers with their babies strapped to the back of their bicycles, and cops who do not speak English?

Jason takes me for a couple laps around the local Tesco, which is a super nice grocery store/Wal-Mart equivalent here. It's slow learning and a freak out a couple times, but eventually I can technically drive.

Adventures in Driving:

1. I stop at a stop light and cannot get the car to start under any circumstances. It's because I've put the handbrake on as an extra precaution, but I only learn this after like 4 cycles of the traffic lights changing. 

2. Speaking of traffic lights, I figured that driving to and from Tesco at around 8 p.m. would present the least risk to myself and my fellow drivers. But Szolnok is kind of a laid back town, and after 9 the traffic lights just flash yellow, which confuses me the first time it happens. The handbrake thing happened on the way to Tesco, the traffic light thing happens on the way back. 

3. The entrance to my hotel's parking garage is on an small incline, so I stall out a couple times when trying to drive in. The concierge is nice enough to come out and help me drive it in, which is not even that embarrassing to me because this was my first trip all by myself. 

4. Jason has to leave like 2 days after he taught me how to drive. We have his going away party at the Szolnok bowling center, and I'm the designated driver. So I drive like I'm drunk. Also they put one of the biggest programmers in the seat behind me, so I'm scrunched up and fogging up the windshield with fear breath while everyone in the car thinks it's hilarious. Also, they leave a water bottle full of bootleg booze underneath the front seat. I find this out days later, so had I been pulled over I would have had a bottle of liquor as a testament to my erratic driving style.

Found this flyer at the bowling alley. This guy is missing. He's 188 cm tall and weighs 110 kg, which is basically me adjusted  5 percent for inflation. If you see him, help him get home.