Beahms take over Budapest

Right now, my mom should be still fast asleep, fighting off jet lag. She just returned from visiting me in Hungary for a week. I loved having her here. It would have been very odd to have lived in a foreign country for half a year and have none of my close friends or family come visit. So, now I have someone at home who will know what I'm talking about when I mention Marxim, a great communist-styled pizza place, or tell stories of my landlord Istvan. Here are my half of the photos of her visit. I think she took better ones with her camera:

http://colorado.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2197477&l=6021e&id=10215414

We did all sorts of fun stuff during her visit. First, we went to a wine festival at the Budapest castle district, where we saw live music (including an acapella group that performed Michael Jackson songs in Hungarian - quite strange) and saw an opera. La Traviata was not the most exciting of shows, but gazing at the ornate frescoes of the opera house made it worth it. Plus, opera tickets are less than the cost of a movie, so no one should miss out on it. My mom and I also spent a night in Eger, which is the wine region of Hungary. It was a cute, smaller town, known for women who fought off the Turkish army. The wine area was really cute - it only took about 20 minutes to walk from our hotel to the "Valley of Nice Women," which is what the region is called. I've also heard it called the Valley of Beautiful Women. In this valley, there are over 200 wine cellars to go sample from and plenty of wine to buy. Their specialty is called Bulls Blood - a deep red wine, so we lugged a few bottles of that back to Budapest.
In Budapest, we saw the main sights and met up with my mom's friend Gena from Fort Collins who happened to be in Hungary as well. We grabbed traditional Hungarian food and went to this really fun music pub I recently discovered. I think I will become a regular. On our last day, we were very indulgent and went to Gellert Bath and spa - the most ornate of the baths in Budapest. There we both got Swedish massages and soaked in the thermal waters. We also played around in their wave pool too. I want to do that every day! The massages were funny, because they give them to you when you're in your swimming suit, and they'll have 3 or more people in a room giving different people massages, and the ladies just jabber away in Hungarian to each other - but it's still relaxing nonetheless.

Now, it's back to work for me and Mike. He's been ill today, so we've just been staying at home. Of course, he won't admit he's sick, but just that he's "not well." I don't think staying up until 5:30 a.m. this morning to watch Arkansas play Alabama helped his cause. I could only make it through the first quarter and then I crashed. I am just not as good of a sports fan. Coming from Colorado, I missed out on the Southern, die-hard football gene. Luckily, Mike has met people in Budapest who do possess it.

Berlitz and Bullwinkle

My lifestyle has gone from a slow, self-dictated pace, to scattered and crazy. Of course, it's the latter style that I am most used to, but it came as a shock to my system this week to have very little free time. I guess it's time that I joined the working world. Teaching is going well so far, and I am lucky, because the school spoon-feeds my lesson plans to me. So, if I don't feel like getting creative, I don't have to.

So far, I have 5 different classes that I teach, but I've only met three, one of which I am dropping. The students I see the most are two business men from South Korea. They are here working at a bank for the next two months. As if the culture shock between leaving their families in Korea and moving to Budapest weren't enough, they've subjected themselves to taking both English and Hungarian lessons simultaneously. Yikes. I really like them, and I think they like me too, except they are not accustomed to the American accent, so I am hard to follow as they say.

The next class is advanced speakers which I have already dubbed the Bullwinkle class. This is because it has two people in it, and one of them is from an area right outside from Russia, and her name is Natasha. Naturally, she is pretty, tall and pale, just like the cartoons. She is a great student who learned English while working for the Red Cross. Now, she's taking lessons to master her English and entertain herself while her kids are at school. Today, she brought her adorable 3-year-old son to class, and he slept through the entire thing. Hopefully, that's not an indication of my teaching enthusiasm. The other man is Hungarian and named Atilla . . insert Atilla the Hun jokes here. He is another businessman and is a very good speaker, so it makes my job easy. Things will go well as long as I don't slip and call him Boris.

My other class is horrendous and will be dropped asap. It begins at 7:30 a.m., which is do-able. But, when I agreed to take it, the secretary neglected to tell me that it is on the Eastern outskirts of Pest, which is about as far away from my flat as you can get. Some of Berlitz's classes are taught in actual businesses, and this one was at a Volvo factory. I left my apartment at 6:30 and still managed to be half an hour late. I had to ride the entire line of a metro, get off, and take a bus for 45 minutes. So, I commuted for 3 hours to teach and get paid for 1.5 hours. Of course, the day I had to go was only 50 some degrees, windy and rainy. I was sleep deprived, grumpy, and not prepared to teach level one students, which is exceptionally challenging. Luckily, Berlitz realized that this was ridiculous and told me I don't have to do it anymore, except for tomorrow. So, my alarm clock is set for WAY too early tomorrow. When my alarm clock goes off, I wonder how I ever woke up for swim team practice at 5:30 am all those years . . .

Starting the week after next, I get two more groups of students. I hope they are as interesting as my current students. On Saturday, my Mom gets here, and I can't wait! We have lots of fun activities planned, and I took most the week off from teaching, so we can go explore wine country and Budapest.

Reluctant teaching, happy travels

These are some quick shots from Bratislava, Slovakia, where Mike, Bijal and I ventured on Sunday. We only took a quick day trip, but that was enough, as we saw the sights we wanted to see within 3 hours - including lunch. The old town area is very cute, with lots of nice terraced cafes, colorful buildings and impressive churches. There is also a large castle and fortress, which seemed barren, but gave great looks out to the other side of Bratislava, which hosts communist block housing clusters. A Slovakian woman told us that it holds the highest concentration of people in Europe - perhaps I should fact check that one? At the very least, I can say that I've seen where my great grandparents are from. Also, this trip made me realize that Mike and I usually take pictures of the pretty areas of the cities we visit, which are the minority, so perhaps we should start taking pictures of the seedy areas to give folks at home a more accurate picture of what we see. For instance, I took a nice picture of the performing art hall in the downtown, but neglected to photograph the multitude of homeless beggars in the train station, all the graffiti, and the drunk men who tactlessly yelled things at Bijal and I - which makes me thankful sometimes when I can't understand the language.

But, besides Bratislava, a lot has happened recently. Here are some links to my life. First, are links to some of the first stories I had published at Where Budapest Mag:
http://wherebudapest.hu/2007_08/book_of_the_month.html
http://wherebudapest.hu/2007_08/cool_pools.html

And here is a link to all of Michael and I's pictures from our trip to Germany with Mr. Klein two weekends ago (and, if it looks like we spent the whole trip with a beer in hand, that is a fairly accurate depiction - it is Germany after all.)
http://colorado.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=35920999&l=e7a24&id=10215414

The trip to Germany was wonderful. I wish we could have stayed longer. My German roots became very evident while I was there, as I marveled at the cleanliness, order and efficiency of the country. After Hungary, it was quite comforting to be in a more organized society. Michael of course hates rules, so he teases me all the time about how I should be living in Germany, because I am terrible at even crossing the street when I'm not supposed to. But, anyway, Mark (Mike's dad) was there on business, so we met up with him in Frankfurt for a weekend. We stayed in Mainz, an adorable, lively college town just outside Frankfurt. Mark and Mike showed me all their favorite spots, like a brewery/restaurant that is in a cave where the city used to store their ice and used the cave as the village refrigerator. We also went on a boat tour on the Rhein River, where we were inundated with castle views. The next day we saw Heidelburg, which I also loved. It had a very impressive castle that we tromped around, and enjoyed their downtown area too. I wish we had stayed longer, but I'm very happy I got to Germany. Perhaps, I'll write more details about it later, rather than the overview, but that's enough to understand the pictures.

I am in the midst of Berlitz teacher training, where I've been spending my days in a classroom with other Americans (almost all New Yorkers), Hungarians, British, a Peruvian and one Aussie, learning the "Berlitz method" of teaching foreign language. It sounds like a war strategy to me, but I go with it. I have met some great people, and will actually be making a steady income soon enough, which I am very thankful for. But, just to complicate things, a job I want in Colorado as an entertainment reporter just opened, so now I have to figure out if I'm ready to leave Europe to take the job if it's offered . . . stay tuned.

Bombs, Bands and Bards

This week has produced some good stories. So, I'll try not to be too long winded, but here they are:

Last Friday I came home to find my block and the entrance to my apartment surrounded by the police. I walked up to the cops at my apartment to see if I could go inside, and they said "nem," which I recognize as no, and then they started speaking quickly about, "THE BOMBA." Despite my limited Hungarian, I am savvy enough to recognize the word bomb in a foreign language, especially when the policeman makes exploding guesstures with his hands as he repeats, "Bomba." It was at this time that I notice my neighbors sitting around the nearby sidewalks, somberly gathered like a block party that just ran out of beer. Naturally I am a little concerned, because no one wants to hear the words bomb and be denied access to their flat. So, I called Mike and he brought Balazs, our official translator, to the scene to investigate. It turns out that in the huge construction site behind our house (see the pictures in my previous blog), the workers found a 40 kg (I weigh 54 kgs to put that into perspective) shrapnel grenade from WWII that had not been detonated. So, I couldn't get into my flat until the bomb squad moved it. Yikes. I'm thankful that I wasn't home when they evacuated our flat, but at the same time, it would have been an amusing site to see the 50 macho construction workers fleeing the scene. As my sister, said, "It's just another day in Eastern Europe."

Mike and I made it to Sziget, the biggest music festival in Europe on Friday night and Saturday. Here, approximately 400,000 visitors take over an island on the Danube, where there are multiple stages, food, games, booths - just about everything you could think of. Wherever there wasn't a palinka stand or a stage, there seemed to be wall-to-wall tents for the campers. The event was fun, but crowded. The big name show that we caught was Nine Inch Nails, and they were awful, but I've never liked them. We lasted about four songs at that stage, and then moved to a drag show instead, which was much more amusing, mostly because they weren't attractive drag queens, but were overweight, middle-aged Hungarian and Austrian men (sans one attractive Parisian). As it was Mike's first drag show, I think he's scarred. We also went into this cool structure called a Luminarium. It is a like a blow-up house for adults on drugs, but it was fun sober too. There are multiple rooms, plastic forests, with ambient music playing and people reclining onto walls that felt like Twister boards. That is what the pictures are of at the beginning of this post.

Last night, I went to the first Bardroom event since I arrived. This is a network of ex-patriat literati, who host events, readings and open-mics. The event had two very talented featured writers, and then an open-mic portion where I read some poetry even though I hadn't planned on it. The whole thing was great, except at the end it started getting overwhelming. It seems that a representative from every organization I have ever emailed from Hungary, such as art schools, non-profits, or publications, was at this event. So, I was approached by multiple people, including editors that I had blown off because they wouldn't pay me for my work, after the reading who knew me. It was like this unexpected networking gala. Everyone knows my editors at the mags I'm working for and the school I'll be teaching at, and seems to have started at the same spots. It's this intricate social web. So, I came home with invitations to join international writers groups, business cards and the standard business cards of most poets - a scrap of paper from their journal with their email address scribbled on it.

And some other things:

• We are going to Frankfurt this weekend to see Mike's dad who will be there on business.

• I got my first Hungarian hair-cut today, and I didn't get a mullet - phew.

• At the grocery store today, I was attacked by 20 packages of salami as they fell from the shelf directly onto my head. I received many a stare, but no offer to pick up salami packages that littered the isle. So, I can't use the term I've been hit by a ton of bricks, but now I can say I know what it's like to be hit by a ton of salami.

• I am minutes away from finishing Atlas Shrugged, the longest book I've ever read at 1080 pages, with hardly any dialouge and tiny print. I'm proud of this feat - I think it's resume worthy. And on another literary note, I've been listening to one of David Sedaris' books on my Ipod as I travel around the city, which of course, is hilarious. So, I've been chuckling to myself and making people think I am probably crazy - this may explain why no one helped me during the salami incident.

Two months

This is me outside a beautiful palace I visited yesterday. It's only 45 minutes outside the city, and I was quite happy that it was easy to find and not swarming with tourists. I definitely want to go back and marvel at the ornate wall paper, church and Queen Elizabeth's dressing rooms.

As of two days ago, I have officially been in Hungary for two months. August was my tentative date to return to the US, but now I am not positive when it'll be. Perhaps around Thanksgiving, if not sooner. I've been looking for jobs in the states, as well as around Budapest, so I don't know what will happen. I did get hired at an English school called Berlitz, but I don't start training for another two weeks. Teaching has never been something I've felt called to do, but maybe I'll like it once I start. It'll be a good way to supplement my time with freelance writing.

Budapest is filled with turtles (my label for backpackers) this weekend, because it’s the largest musical festival in Europe, called Sziget, which means island. The concert takes over an entire island on the Danube, where there’s non-stop music, camping and parties. It lasts for a week, and we hope to go at least one day this weekend.

I've realized that I haven't shown any pictures of my neighborhood, so here's kind of a day in the life photo spread.:

Our apartment building:

The construction in our backyard. Apparently, there's Roman ruins under there.

Our friends Peter and Balazs:
The living room with antiquated furniture:

Our kitchen, which I strongly dislike:

Mike's office:

Hero's Square, one of my favorite spots:

Marcus the expat

The number of ex-patriots in Hungary surprises me. Well, perhaps not their presence here, but that I run into them so often. There is a camaraderie among foreigners who meet acquaintances from their homeland in Budapest. This is accompanied by a willingness to strike up conversations with anyone with fluency in English. Perhaps, all the perpetually displaced people crave a touch of home, so they talk to strangers who wouldn't get a second glance if they were back in the states.
For example, not only did I meet two groups of Texans this weekend, but I also met a man who went to CU today. I’ve been finishing up and article for Denver Life magazine (which debuts in January) and starting my next article for Business Hungary on this rainy Monday. Because I’ll go nuts from isolation if I try to remain in our apartment, I headed to my favorite coffee shop next to the Museum of Fine arts. It’s housed in this old Victorian-styled house, with many rooms, blue, bold flowered wall paper, comfortable lounge chairs and hard wood floors. It is lovely and peaceful. But, of course it takes about 30 minutes to get here and is the most expensive coffee locale that I have discovered in this land devoid of Starbucks; but I like it anyway. But, as I was sitting there, someone asked if he could take a chair from my table, and after he heard my accent, he struck up a conversation with me. Imagine his surprise, when he found out I was from CO, and was a CU alum – his alma matter as well. He’s been in Budapest for a year, and in Prague prior to that. These instances are amusing, but I try to avoid saying the cliché that it’s a small world. Not because I dislike the expression, but once it's spoken, the Disney World theme song will ring through my ears, and that’s just torturous.

This weekend, we went to Szentendre, a town north of Budapest known for colorful buildings, artisans and cobblestone streets. The picture at the beginning of this post is of its main square. While it was quaint, it provided nothing new, as the food and craft vendors are the same there as they are all around the city. But, I am sure it is a fun place for visitors, and not profession Budapest tourists like I have become. Mike and I dubbed the place the "Hungarian Estes." But, if it had the Rocky Mountains near by, I'd be more inclined to return. My next plan is to get to Hungarian wine country– that is supposed to be quite different from Budapest. Also, Mike and I are going to Frankfurt in mid-August to visit his dad, who’ll be there on business. I am really excited. Here's some pics I've taken lately:

This is the inside of the Jewish Synagogue in Budapest. It's supposed to be the most ornate one in Europe - it was gorgeous. And, here is Mike, perched outside a large church in Szentendre:

A noteable occurance

Walking home the other day, I was approached by a classic little-old Hungarian woman. Wrinkles abounded on her face, her hair was covered by a dull-colored scarf, except for a bun of hair, and she wore a sensible gray button-down dress that went down to her calves.
Now, minutes before I was meeting her, I was thinking to myself about how much I wanted to find volunteer work to do in Hungary, and I miss being in a community where I feel like I am helping someone that's not work related. This is the first time since I was in junior high that I am not volunteering for one agency or another.
So, while I am immersed in this inner-dialog, this pleasant lady comes up to me on a busy street corner right by a tram stop. She begins speaking quickly in Hungarian to me, which sounds like a melodic trill to me - seeing as how I can't make out many words yet. I answer with one of the few phrases I've mastered, which means, "I don't speak Hungarian. Do you speak English?" But, she completely ignores me, grabs my arm, points across the street, and continues speaking. This is when I realize she can't see well, and she is looking for assistance in crossing the street. So, of course I walk her across and she smiles, says thank you, and walks away.
Now, as I walked home, I just had to chuckle. Here I was, thinking that I need to find more altruistic outlets, and then I perform the most stereotypical good deed possible, usually attributed to polite Boy Scouts (meant with all due respect to the wonderful Boy Scouts in my life): walking an old lady across the street. Just a good natured situation to remind me that things work themselves out.