Mini Hungarian language lesson: spike.
Today's lesson comes courtesy of @andraswf because we have to talk about a problem we have.
Not us two but as a nation.
Yes, I'm talking about drink, specifically drink before going to work.
Today's lesson comes courtesy of @andraswf because we have to talk about a problem we have.
Not us two but as a nation.
Yes, I'm talking about drink, specifically drink before going to work.
I don't know when it started but it was definitely rife behind the Iron Curtain. There's an anecdote about the Soviets banning 200 ml vodka bottles to stop this practice, arguing nobody would drink a full litre before taking up their shift. And they were right, people didn't.
What they did instead was this: first worker arrives at shop, stands outside holding a finger up. Second worker joins, they're holding two fingers up. And so on until the fifth one appears, at which point they go in, buy a litre bottle, share it and off to the factory they go.
So it didn't quite work as planned. Neither did all the other measures they thought of. Getting pissed before operating heavy machinery was seen as an inalienable human right.
And it developed its own vocabulary.
And it developed its own vocabulary.
"Tüske" ("spike") is the name of a small, individually bottled shot of alcohol of dubious origin and flavour. With 50 ml, it's only a quick fix really.
They were often so bad they couldn't even be called vodka, so they went by suggestive brand names like "VEDKA".
They were often so bad they couldn't even be called vodka, so they went by suggestive brand names like "VEDKA".
Other popular names for the same genre were "ampulla" ("ampoule") cos it was medicinal or "patron" ("cartridge"), referring to the small metal cylinder containing the fizz for soda streams.
One level up (in size if not quality) was "csavarós kifli", translating roughly as "twisty croissant", this was the standard 200 mil setup, a full Hungarian breakfast if you like.
Then in the noughties, presumably to reduce the amount of broken glass littering the roads to factory gates, an innovative company introduced a new product: "Tipli" ("Rawlplug").
The packaging of tiny breakfast yogurts combined with a content that destroyed thousands of livers.
The packaging of tiny breakfast yogurts combined with a content that destroyed thousands of livers.
Unofficially some took it even further, with one seller nicknaming the little bottles of gut-rotting foulness "Bricklayer's Actimel".
Still, at least selling vodka in miniature juice cartons (complete with straw!) never caught on, it remained a rare Romanian delicacy.
