Aside from the architecture, the planning, the Danube, and its history, what makes Budapest such an enchanting city is the constant reminders of where you are, culturally. Not quite East, but not West enough, structure from the North with a penchant for the finer things of the South, as much as I tease Hungarians for being wholly and truly “Eastern Europe” they are in fact firmly in the centre. As a result of this crossroads, matched with a language that accommodates no one, much of contemporary Hungarian culture is a fusion of their deep-set roots with the Kanti and Maansi tribes of the Urals, and their reaction to long term cohabitation with Slavic, Teutonic, Latin and Turkic neighbours.
1) Limited Opening Hours. If you tend to get hungry outside the hours of 10am-8pm, then Hungary may not be for you. Not even the bakers rise before 9am. Furthermore, grocery stores will close at 8pm, and cafes and restaurants at 10-11pm, and the ones that remain open will simply stop serving food. And, just to be a tease, they will hang their ‘Open’ signs, open all doors and windows, lay out patio furniture, and then when you walk in bark “Closed!” at you. So is it any wonder I find myself rising at 7am every morning, and heading straight to the 0-24 NonStop Tesco, or Costa Coffee, again to be disappointed?
2) Irrational Opening Hours. And then are shops that are open all the time. NonStop. If I want a panini for less than $2, I can have it at 4am on a Wednesday. But I cannot have it at 10am on a Sunday morning. That would be silly. Nothing is open on Sunday.
3) NonStop. Of the few English words appropriated into the Hungarian language, “NonStop” is one that slightly missed the mark. ‘0-24 NonStop’ typically implies just that. If, when I approach at 23:30, and I am told by a security guard that the place is closed, would it not be easier to have that man run a till?
4) The Hungarian Language. Oh my. If you’ve ever failed at learning French, Hungarian is not the logical backup choice. It won’t even help you achieve your dream of learning Finnish. Hungarian is a language that waits for no one. ‘Vendeglő” is a restaurant, ‘Vendeglo’ is a ‘guest horse.’ As in, a horse who is a guest. If you don’t lengthen or shorten a vowel sound, no one will know, or even show interest in wanting to know, what you are talking about:
“Kérek egy kávét tejjel.”
“Tejjel?”
“Igen. Tej.”
“Tej?”
“Igen, tej.”
“Nem ertem.”
“Tej.”
“Ó! Thé?”
“Nem, tej. Look, hogy mongyák, ‘Reach into your lexicon and find a three-letter word that starts with a “T” and could possibly relate to something that goes with coffee. Please. Just infer. We are in a café. Kérem. Köszönöm’ magyarul?”
Then again, if a Hungarian showed up in rural Canada without knowing a lick of English, aside from being totally impressed that he or she had made it that far without dying, I would have no time for that.
5) Roma women who give me free socks: Sure, it sounds all friendly at first, giving you free socks , but do not think that that 3-pack of athletic sockettes does not come with strings . First they are making kind gestures, and the next thing you know they show up at your door with their vardos and all 37 members of their immediate family and move in, start doing laundry in your sink and using your dishwasher to store their many trinkets, castanets, and gold and lapis lazuli jewelry, not unlike my grandmother used to do with her kettle (store it in her dishwasher, not hoard semi-precious stones).
6) Trianon. Please, I beg you, stop. Stop blaming me for Trianon. I can assure you I played little to no role in the Paris Peace Conference. As far as I am concerned, ‘Trianon’ is a song by Fleetwood Mac.
7) Paying for ketchup. And I am not even sure if this red, glossy goop is real ketchup. Dollop for dollop, at $1 each this works out to about a $48 bottle. In fact, I am starting to understand the logic behind old ladies who hoard packets of ketchup and vinegar from fast food restaurants. They have seen it all, they remember.
8) A heightened sense of awareness. In keeping with inconsistency, Hungarians will both swerve into you while walking, stop directly in front of you and turn around with no warning, and then will hold the door for you and thank you for doing the same. Certainly in the running for “Politest Society in Europe.”
9) Obligatory (but free), coat check. Despite the fact that public buildings are heat full blast with no disregard for the Russians possibly cutting off the gas again, the one-worker-per-coat-check thing is not working for me. I am not waiting somewhere between 30 seconds and 25 minutes in a line that does not actually appear to exist while one old man deals with both taking in and handing out coats on a completely arbitrary basis. Hungarians take pride in organized irrationality: this place is so…German about being Russian.
10) Queuing. And Private Security Firms. One till open, and four security guards standing around making sure no one in the line that wraps itself around the entirety of the Tesco Expressz steals. I’m sure with shorter lines, we’d all be less inclined to steal. I just want my Dr. Oetker’s pizza.
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