You may have noticed (or may not) the several-day gap between this and the last post. Well, honestly, the weather is warm and we’re by the lake, and it’s so lovely in the water . . . all my ‘things’ have been neglected (blogs, twitter, writing, narrative nippling).
My daily ritual of wake, eat, write, surf (the internet), workout, eat, surf/blog/tweet/get to business has been substituted with wake, eat, swim, eat, swim, eat, swim. And in between there’s an awful lot of laying on the grassy beach and playing UNO.
But today I’m popping by to say hello and teach you two interesting differences with the Hungarian concept of RED.
Hungarians have two words for red. Piros and Vörös. I’d like to use Zsolt, my handsome husband, to illustrate the difference.
On Saturday, a day that struck 35 degrees in the sun, Zsolt and I went for a swim in the water immediately after lunch. To be fair he was protesting this activity, saying “you shouldn’t swim for thirty minutes after eating.” and I was calling him a giant-baby, asserting that it “isn’t swimming when the water is only two feet deep.” Plus I was desperate to escape the suntrap porch of his Balaton cottage and get our asses to the water for a cool-down post goulash lunch.
Anyhow, we went into the water for a very ‘quick dip’ since it was midday, we had no sunscreen, and we’d just eaten. This was mission to cool down.
Except that it’s really fun in the water. And two minutes turned to five, which turned to ten, which turned to about 20 minutes in the water.
So while I was safe with my t-shirt (Zsolt’s giant nightshirt, actually, which I wore to protect the area of my body exposed to the earlier radiotherapy of February), he had just a little too much sun.
Saturday afternoon, post mid-day swim, Zsolt had a slight burn across his chest. This general colour of red is called piros. Piros can apply to apples, bicycles, swimming trunks, red vending machines, etc. It is your average red.
The next day was also hot. And so, again, we went for another – but this time, really seriously no joking – ‘quick dip’ in Balaton. Again I wore a t-shirt and Zsolt went bare skinned (by the by, all this time I’m there saying, “Babe, wear a t-shirt” but he’s like, “no way, not cool.” Which is true, I do look like a dork in this giant-sized white t-shirt, but at this point in my life I can hardly give a shit.)
Quick dip. With sunblock applied.
Half an hour later, we’re back on the beach to dry off. Zsolt looks down and asks if I think he looks more red. No, I tell him, you’re fine.
But did you know that sometimes skin burns slowly? Like, the extent of the damage isn’t immediately visible?
Anyhow – Vörös is Hungarian for a really rich, deep kind of red, and generally reserved for special entities. Blood is vörös. Wine is vörös. Zsolt is now vörös.
And today we’re sitting in the shade midday; he’s wearing the t-shirt, and every time I go to touch him (lovingly) on the shoulder, all I get in return is “Ow!” The man has turned into a human lobster. A vörös lobster.
So there’s a quick lesson in Hungarian language. Piros vs Vörös. And a good reason to wear your t-shirt in the water. Cuddling is cool, even if t-shirt’s aren’t, which makes looking like a dork worth the fashion faux-pas.