Romantic Language

Romeo and Juliet.

The tale is timeless.

Classic.

Enduring.

Guy meets girl.

Girl’s family feels he’s not good enough.

Guy’s family feels she’s inappropriate.

They fall in love anyway…

It’s a story that crosses ethnicity and cultural borders.

My first introduction to Sign Theatre was at a production of Rómeó és Júlia…  modernized, Hungarianized, and put into a Deaf cultural context, we find that Júlia is hearing while  Rómeó is Deaf of Deaf, (meaning his parents are also Deaf).  Thus sets the stage and the point of friction for the doomed lovers, as the worlds of the Deaf and hearing collide.

Your invitation to Romeo and Juliet in Hungarian Sign

I was invited to this production and went with no particular expectations.  I remember choosing to sit in the back, knowing it’s important for Deaf to be closer to the action and for the nagy hallo (hearing impaired) people to sit up where it’s possible to read lips or hear whatever might be said.  As a hearing person, I wasn’t at a disadvantage to sit in the back row.  It was a small theatre, so my graciousness was rewarded by a premium seat to watch over the entire auditorium of guests as well as players.  To get the broad sweep of the entire production.

There were no fancy backdrops.  The costumes were simple.  Rómeó’s family was in blue and Júlia’s family in red.

There was a Story-teller.  She was a marvelous communicator, signing the introduction and “filling in” the plot line as the play went on.   She also interpreted into sign, the voiced lines of Júlia’s family, all done from memory and lipreading, as she is Deaf.

The Story-teller brings the words to life...

There was a voice interpreter, who translated into spoken language that which was on the hands of the story teller and the actors… This interpretation, however, was only helpful for those who could understand Hungarian.

Not speaking Hungarian well, but having taken a couple of beginner Hungarian sign language classes, I relaxed  and  just concentrated on the signs and the flow, and followed the story.  There were only basic theatrical devices  used; projecting a few scenes of Budapest on a plain white sheet– Hero’s Square where the battle was fought, St. Istvan’s Bascillica where the marriage was performed; and musical interludes were added as a kindly gesture for the hearing members of the audience.

But, mostly there was a story being told, with passion and simplicity.  Bringing theatre back to basics.  Elemental. Pure.

Definitely the scene that spoke the most endearingly to me was when Rómeó was showing Júlia how to sign, how to communicate in his heart-language.  It was so gentle, so personal, so beautifully romantic, that the moment was etched into my memory as a work of art is etched into the soul of the painter.

Later that night, I learned that the girl playing Júlia was herself Deaf.  She’d been being “voiced-over” and I hadn’t noticed.  It made that scene to me, all the more poignant, as she “learned” to sign with fumbling grace…making what was natural to her, seem awkward, as it is to those of us using Sign language for the first time.

learning the sign for stars....

I had no idea how pivotal this night would be in my life, because I was about to be invited into the theatre culture of the Deaf community, and that would forever change my experience and my existence. It would take me to places both tangible and relational that I’d only dreamed of during my years of personal study into the intriguing and expressive world of the Deaf.

“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”    – William Shakespeare

Dance Like Someone’s Watching…

(Just a note:  the red words/sentences have a link embedded… click your mouse on them to learn some fun stuff!)

Could it be possible to become a public transport expert?  After eleven years sorting through complex structures, I am fearless when it comes to getting anywhere on any city’s public transport. I believe that in Budapest, we have probably one of the best public systems in the world.  You can traverse the entire city or the outlying areas… the only thing you need is time and a BKV map.  Oh, and sometimes a little help from Google Maps can come in handy too! There are many transport options, and you can project how much time it will require to get from A to B, depending on your choice of conveyance.

The New Face of the City of Budapest

In Budapest, I don’t remember ever waiting in the underground for my ride and after twenty minutes being told to find another way to my destination because the line was closed until further notice.  Nor do I remember being stranded inside a cement tube with no observable way out…  Both those things happened to me in New York, a city famous for it’s excellent public transportation.

However, to be fair, I have been put off a bus or a tram here in the middle of the winter a few times, but at least we were above ground!

Taking public is an amazing way to people-watch. Years back I noticed that often passengers would turn and gaze out the window, becoming oblivious to everyone around, including the 80-year-old woman with a cane, standing on aging, wobbly legs beside them, while they sat comfortably on their youthful bottoms.   I felt l like congratulating the young man who was gentlemanly enough to stand and offer a seat to any woman old enough to be his mother or his granny.  I see it happening more often now, and I STILL feel like giving the thoughtful man, woman or teen a high-five for being so considerate!

It's a normal crowd on the Red Bus

Especially as winter closes in, more people will be taking public.  Things get crowded and people become territorial.  The one element of this drama I still cannot fathom is how people can languidly enter the conveyance, knowing there are 15 people still behind them also trying to get on.  Many will find their “spot” by the door and stand like a sentry, unyielding and impervious to others who also wish to get on and get about their business.  When the vehicle is full, clusters of new passengers surround the door because others won’t move down into the aisles and make room, unless compelled to do so.  After all, there’s nowhere to sit, why move down?

Getting on a congested bus...

Riding public is not for sissies.  You have to know when to be polite and when to just hustle your way in.  One visitor we hosted, stood politely at the door, letting everyone go on ahead. We were buried behind another dozen people by the time the doors were buzzing their warning that they were about to close. We couldn’t jump off.  He barely managed to get on.  He had no idea where to go or what to do if he’d been left behind.

That was too polite.

Be courteous, but get on!!

A few years ago I was taking a group of teens to a perform in the city.  Two of the students jumped into the open metro while we waited  on the platform for the slow pokes to catch up.  Too slow!  The doors snapped shut and the car screeched off down the line.  One little Deaf girl and an American visitor bound for destinations unknown!  We shouted instructions and signed as the Yellow metro trembled and shrieked on it’s iron rails, taking with it, it’s reputation for being the oldest underground in continental Europe and our precious cargo!

Recently, I found myself getting a little too familiar with the whole public experience, making a run for the open doors and gracefully leaping through as the warning buzzer sounded… raucous, loud and grating.  But because people hover by the door, I shortened my stride so I wouldn’t collide with another passenger on completion of my Grand Jeté!

I made it.

My backpack wasn’t so fortunate.  The doors slammed shut with me on the inside and the pack on the outside.  Yes, it was still on my back.  It would seem the doors on the metro don’t automatically bounce open if there is something caught in them.

I was in deep yogurt! It was the old line and the tunnel is very narrow. In my mind the contents of my backpack were already strewn about the Oktogon Yellow Line Station…  I tugged and pulled and manage to yank it in… as onlookers gawked in amazement at my rash actions.  I believe someone was prying the doors open with their fingers, and someone else was tugging on my arm, but I’m not sure because I think my life flashed before my eyes.

Definitely not one of my most clever moves… I’d caught my arm about a week before on the Blue metro doing the same thing…

Needless to say, I’ve learned my lessons:

It’s only a few minutes until the next one.  You can wait.

Learn to accept being late as a fact of life, and you won’t lose a body part.

And when you dance, you better hope someone is watching!

Photo credit:  We Heart It for the Grande Jeté photo  thank you!