NICE NICHE

When we came, we first rented an apartment in Targu Mures/Marosvasarhely because we thought we needed to be in a city with an orchestra, movie theaters, restaurants and good shopping. But after six months, we bought a house in a tiny village and made it our home. Adrianu Mic/Kisadorjan is about 12 miles from Targu Mures and we have the best of both worlds.

Kisadorjan is a well-functioning unit of 43 residents, all Hungarian, and we wondered how we could ever be anything but a curiosity to our neighbors. We wanted to fit in. In a totally agricultural community where baskets of apples, walnuts, tomatoes, or other over-abundant produce appeared at our door, we had nothing to give in return. If we took something to a neighbor, for example cinnamon rolls or brownies, we came back with our plate piled with szilvas gomboc or kalacs. The generosity was overwhelming, and we never felt that we were "even". I think this is an American concept, and we needed to get over it. Especially since we have discovered our way of contributing.

We have a telephone. It doesn't always work if it's raining, but it has a better track record than the phone in Albertbacsi and Evaneni's house. Their phone was put there for the use of the whole village. They receive calls and pass on messages, or they get word to someone that so-and-so will call back at such-and-such time. Out-going calls are made through the operator who gives the charges at the end of the call, and money is left there. It's definitely not used for chatting; only for really important communication.

So, when Sanyibacsi came this Wednesday asking to use our phone, we knew something serious was happening. One, he wasn't using the village phone. Out of order. Two, he looked worried. Feribacsi's cow was trying to deliver a calf, had been for several days, and they decided they needed a vet. Sanyibacsi had a telephone number and tried to call it. From the vet's wife: "He's not here. Try your own village vet." Our village is too small to have a resident vet, so we had to find out where he was.

Sanyibacsi didn't know what to do. This is where American ingenuity and persistence came in handy. We knew the operator's number for the villages in this area, called and asked for the vet. No answer at the office. We knew that he lived in another village and probably had an office there, too. We happened to have that central telephone number (from previous similar emergencies!). It was at the Village Hall. No answer. We called another central operator and confirmed the number for that village. Called back. Someone answered this time and transfered us to the vet.

"He's not here, but try his cell phone." We then got him on the cell phone, and quickly handed the phone to Sanyibacsi who had been standing there, eyes wide open, watching our resourcefulness. The vet was on his way!

Sanyibacsi is the perfect person to ask about when to plow, when to plant, when to harvest, how to hold a scythe to cut our grass. Using a telephone is not on his long list of abilities. We have learned how we can fit in, we are needed, because we have specific skills that others don't. So, we are like everyone else, each necessary in his or her own special way.