What The Hell Do YOU Do

  I love my tutoring sessions with Zoli and Eszter. They are roughly my age, smart, thoughtful, and fairly hip. Our sessions consist of discussing a different topic every meeting. I come up with something and write down about twenty questions about that topic for them to answer. Yes, I get paid to play twenty questions.
  It's not easy for an American to "get in" with a crowd of Hungarians. Fair weather friendships do not fly here and that word, "friend" carries a hell of a lot more weight than it does in the facebookly world of mass produced, fast food  American acquaintances.
  We talked about the term "breaking the ice" when it comes to conversation with people we have just met. Zoli chuckled when he heard this term. He likes it, it fits. I asked both of them a couple of ice breakers... what's your favorite book? Seen any good movies lately? Can you recommend a good restaurant? How often to you ride public transortation without a pass?
  I eventually asked which subjects are taboo in casual conversation. The usual subjects were mentioned, religion, age, politics, all of which come up despite their sensitivity. I asked, "What is the first thing you might say to someone when you first meet them, if you want to get a conversation going?" Both Zoli and Eszter admit to feeling uncomfortable with meeting new people in social (as opposed to work) situations.
  Eszter answered, "It's usually the weather. Always the weather."
   I told them that in the U.S., many people will ask where you are from. This makes sense in a big country like the U.S.A. where people shuffle around from state to state. As Zoli said, in Hungary, "this is not so important. We are from the same place."
  I then asked them, "How would you feel if a new acquaintance asked you what your job is? Or, more specifically, 'What do you do?'  Is that appropriate? In the U.S. that is a very common first question."
  Without hesitation, Zoli said, "No. That would be a very inconsiderate question. Too personal and...and..." Zoli snapped his fingers lightly as he tried to come up with the right word.
"Invasive?" I offered.
"Yes..that's right," he answered.  Eszter agreed.
  The discussion then turned to that question and why it is inappropriate. I admitted to them as I admit to you now that I have always hated that question. I get slightly angry whenever I am asked. I feel as if it is a challenge, or a request that I justify my existence on this earth. In other words, how much are you worth? Your answer to this question determines how I will think of you, talk to you, treat you after this first meeting.
  Call them pessimistic, call them dour, but you cannot call Hungarians insincere or shallow. They are master bullshit detectors and do not suffer phony fools. I love this about the Hungarian people. I discover on an almost daily basis that I have more in common with them than I know.
  Next time someone asks me what I do, I will say that I do a lot of things. I garden, read, cook, bake, write, ride my bike, love my family (the fuzzy ones as well as the human ones). Sometimes I eat too much, sometimes I dance around my apartment when I'm alone.
  Having said this, I do hope to find gainful employment upon my return, but I never want whatever that is define me as a human being. Let it be known that I and everyone else on this earth are more than their goddamned net worth or formal education. As Americans, we should have learned by now that tax bracket does not determine intelligence, kindness, goodness, or personal value. Go ahead and be proud of your achievements, but remember that you can't take it with you and that it's the kind of person you are that will make the lasting impressions. Humanity over that funky dollar bill. The Hungarians know this and have for a long time.