MagyaRORszág

Right, well get used to puns and portmanteaux.

From Bratislava I took the train to Budapest, but rather than do anything directly, I was determined to save 1 or 2 euros and spend countless additional hours and emotional energy to get there. I took the train to Komarno, a small Slovak town on the Danube and walked cross the bridge to its Hungarian counterpart, Komarom to catch a train Budapest-wards. I was ecstatic to be back in Hungary, but was disappointed East-Central Europe has joined Schengen and that I would not be getting a stamp of a port-of-entry rife with umlauts (I had to wait a few weeks for Lőkösháza. Ask me how to pronounce it. Go ahead). The first thing I noticed was how different the two towns were in terms of development. A journal entry from November 2, 2009, confirms this:

“The Hungarian side seems much more run-down and less prosperous. The Slovak side is hopping: more stores, scaffolding, and well-dressed people. It must receive more money because they are renovating a huge fortress there. Hungarian trains are nicer, newer, cleaner and faster, though not on time. Slovak trains are efficient and nothing if not punctual, though considerably shabbier. It’s interesting to see where the governments decide to allocate money and how it is spent. Just like when I was at that golf event this summer and that British/Australian/South African woman sat next to me and started talking to me about being a councilor for Port Moody and being on the budget committee and going to Africa to work in a village and how when she started, they had no computers and how they had to convert everything over to a new system to make it more efficient. At this point I realized I hadn’t been listening (her accent was strong) and I wasn’t sure if she was talking about Port Moody or Africa, and right now I’m not sure why I deemed this story relevant, but nevertheless, the allocation of public monies and infrastructure upgrades are interesting.”

Interesting indeed. The following post appeared on November 5, 2009, in select e-mail inboxes across North America but is now available en masse, with additional footage and afterthoughts. Everything is better retrospectively!



Hi.

So Eastern Europe is, without a doubt and from a wholly biased point of view, the greatest place on earth. This is why I have waited over a month to even bother emailing. Italy, for the most part, was as to be expected, and while I felt much less safe anywhere near a road in Italy, Italians iare, more or less, simply Latin Americans who went to private school. France was quaint and expensive, though I really enjoyed the French as a people. So welcoming and kind, and with such a flat out refusal to learn English. This helped me greatly when I decided to hitchhike from Montpellier to Barcelona, and rode with 8 different people. I could not get over how friendly they all were. One guy, a Jesuit missionary, offered to pay for my train ticket but I refused, because as much as I love getting money from Catholics, I like to improve my conversational skills more. Spain, for the most part, is as we left it in 1995 (for more on this, please consult "The Babins in Europe '95," with a special feature of the Legoland Driving school which is available through the Perley Elementary Library, or was until a certain teacher took it home and kept it and kindly informed me that I could have it back—for a price). So when I was given the option of flying to Sicily and then taking a ferry to Tunisia, but I realised that it involves sitting in Tunisia for several months. With little chance of getting into Algeria, and no chance of getting into Libya, it seemed that I would be bored. Not to mention how terrified I am of the Middle East, what with the terrorism and everything.

So, on a whim, I changed my flight to one of my favourite cities in Europe, Bratislava, and I am now in Budapest. It is so cold here. My plans of never seeing snow this year were thwarted by the flurry that hit Bratislava the morning I left. I also reek of smoke at all times and have had a permanent coating of phlegm in my lungs, and have a weakened, ephemeral sense of smell from all the smoke and pollution of Barcelona, and now from the beer parlours of Slovakia. Unfortunately for me, my olfaction returned to me just as I was boarding a flight to Bratislava from Barcelona and was placed next to an elderly Slovak couple. The ripe smell of old wool and the steadfast refusal to use deodorant was a clear and present reminder of communist-era consumer goods shortages, and these two seemed intent on keeping this memory alive. Barcelona was sweltering when I left, and I boarded the plane with hopes that a slightly cooler climate would help. Instead, I landed in 1 degree weather and immediately regretted every step in my life I had taken that led me to this point. But the bus ride to the hostel, and the overabundance of fur on the riders reminded me why I had come to experience the east, once again.

I had a nice dinner of Chinese food tonight, which I have resolved is something I will do in every country I visit. Chinese food is an interesting thing to use as a control subject, because it has such similar qualities everywhere you go. For starters, it is never "local" cuisine (not even in China), so people don't charge outrageous prices for something that could be disappointing. Instead, it is reasonably priced and you're well aware it inevitably will be disappointing. Second, the interiors are immaculately kept and they spare no expense in decorating. Third, as in Vancouver, as in Barcelona and as in Bratislava, they are completely empty. At all times. As a result, the actual food is the only thing that ever changes. Apart from that, I have wandered around Bratislava which is a pretty amazing city for being so small. And I met Mormons! They were from Arizona and Utah, fluent in Slovak and they invited me in for coffee and conversation, but I forced them, to answer all my questions outside in the freezing cold where people could see me and ensure my safety. Nice people. Most/all answers related back to Jesus. Slovak English language television seems to consist of four music channels (one which is devoted solely to music from the past 30 years in an effort to allow Slovaks to “catch up” and normalize I take it) and E! or whetever that channel is called. So far I have watched a documentary on Eva Longoria Parker and "Kourtney and Khloe Take Miami." In hindsight, it's a really good thing I briefly started watching "Keeping up with the Kardashians" this summer because it has really given me background into the complex relationships there. I've also watched parts of episodes of "Girls of the Playboy Mansion" or something along those lines translated into Slovak. I think this is the type of television Slovaks can really relate to. Considering the vast majority of today's most popular adult film actresses come from Slovakia, this is a pretty effective recruiting tool.

I am now in Hungary and will be dining on goose and roast pumpkin this weekend for the Feast of St Martin. Hungarians are the warmest of people I have encountered so far and are fully aware of how ridiculous their language is, vis-a-vis every other language on the planet ("with the possible exception of the African clicking ones," Fungary Magazine tells me). Have you any idea what a "Gyogyszertar" is? If you have ever tried to find a place to eat after 8pm in Budapest, you would think this language to be very frustrating. I have no idea what "restaurant" or "eatery" or even "kebab shop" is (¡they don't have kebabs here!) so who knows what I have passed up. The other thing is that they separate restaurants, beer parlours, wine parlours, bars, and cluuubs here. The prices for wine are outrageously high in beer parlours, and so on. Also, on main streets prices are triple their equivalent on side streets. Hungarians love the market economy. I did find an all-you-can-eat-Hungarian buffet, where for $18 I can eat and drink all the traditional Hungarian fare I want in the space of 3 hours. I will report back soon.

Fur is everywhere. I saw a woman wearing a whole bear and I asked to take a picture. She was (very) Russian and quite excited and asked, "And you are deeesigner from Amerika?" Considering that I look dirty and poor, I had to say no, but I do think people should be wearing more full animal carcasses.

I'm out. I need to beat the crowds in the metro to buy fresh peppers for the morning stew. Yes, stew for breakfast. I'm probably never coming home.


Rory