Let me tell you about the Hungarian cultural equivalent of the Karen: the IEFA
IEFA is an acronym for the term âIdĆs Ember FenyegetĆ AurĂĄval,â or âElderly Person with a Threatening Aura.â
Contrary to Karen, IEFA is a gender neutral term, and instead of mostly middle-aged and middle-class, they are almost exclusively north of 60, and are working class. But what is shared is the entitlement. They are also right wing, as in have bought into the brainwashing of the currently ruling party, and are absolutely positive that they are living better than four years ago, even though they canât pay their bills, but they are given some potatoes for Christmas, and the head of the ruling party is Godâs gift (okay, this is not absolutely exclusive. One can be an IEFA regardless of political orientation). They do not want to speak to the manager--they are enraged why the manager has a cushy job where they are ânot even working,â and they think they should go and work on the fields. They are most often to be found at supermarkets, marketplaces, on public transport, and on the internet. In case of a real life encounter, they are often seen with a âhag tankâ:
As for the subtype found on the internet, they:
Usually canât spell properly and write everything in caps
They are outraged that people have office jobs instead of working on the fields
Honestly even teacher should be working on the fields, because teachers are lazy and they should stop complaining
If they news is about anything bad happening to anybody, their usual response is âwhy did they go there?
âBack in my day...â You know the rest
Some of my personal experiences:
The height of covid, mask mandate on, you cannot even enter a store without a mask on (in theory). I ren into Mr. IEFA at the local supermarket -- heavyset guy of around 60 with a huge walrus-like mustache, which was on full display, since he kept his mask pulled down. We are lining up at the register, him behind me, we are putting our stuff on the belt. Guy is pretty negligent about it, crawling into my personal space (6 feet, my ass), his stuff is almost touching mine and he is not about to do anything about in, so I lean back to grab one of those dividers, while the guy just kept packing, and almost smashed my face with a jar of pickles.
Last september, I was travelling by train to see my cousin. The train had cabins with a very narrow hallway in front of them and a small open area at the doors, which had some steep steps leading down to the platform, wide enough for only one person to pass. Once we reached my stop, I got to the door just as the train stopped, and waited for it to open -- once it did, I was about to disembark, only a couple of IEFAs were already coming up, barring my way. But the problem is... I was barring their way too in return, so basically none of us could leave this small area in front of the door, and a kind of traffic jam was forming -- which would have been super easy to solve if only they let me get off. But nope, they kept coming, grumbling because they couldnât move towards the cabins. At one point my last nerve snapped and I said, to no-one in particular:Â âIt would be the best for everyone if you let me get off the train!â Then this Mr. IEFA turns towards me and says:Â âYou should have gotten here sooner!â
