Bew-duh-peh-sht: Goulash, Nutella Pancakes, Spanish Morning Fart Songs, the fall of Communism, and Hungarian Women Art

Bad news or Good news first? Well...
http://www.gmanews.tv/story/82941/6-killed-in-storms-in-central-Europe
Yesterday when I was in Budapest a wild storm came through the city. Luckily I was inside the National Museum scrutinizing artifacts in a trail of Hungary's history... dating back from Medieval Ages to the Fall of Communism in 1990. It is a fabulous museum. I was very impressed. So, in a mixture of good news and bad news, over 6 people were killed in this storm yesterday from such strong winds. On the good side, I'm still alive. And on another bad side, from my personal eye-witness, just outside the museum (across the street) there was a car parked nexted to the side walk. A piece of the building towering above broke off and crushed the entire side of the car, pieces of the car were everywhere accompanied by the concrete bricks scattered on the side walk. The windshield was completely shattered with bricks lying inside the car on the seats. It must have just happened, because people were stopping to look, and no police officials had yet arrived to the scene.
The worst of the storm pushed through Budapest when I was in the museum (for about three hours). When Manasi, Agnes, and I left, it was windy and hardly sprinkling.
Among other tourist-y activities, the three of us walked along the river, went to the Palace, saw Parliament, walked across the bridge from Pest to Buda, went to the Museum, and ate lots of Goulash and drank plenty of German beer and Hungarian wine.

Now, onto more important experiences that I had in Budapest...

The three of us stayed in a hostel. We opted for the largest room (8 beds total, 4 bunk-beds) because it was the cheapest. It was co-ed. Friday night, the three of us had the entire room to ourselves. That quickly changed.
On Saturday we had lots of lovely new residents come and join us in a fabulous slumber party. The first victim, a woman in her late 20s, was traveling solo from Argentina. The second resident was a man late into his sixties, Swiss yet lives in Sweden, with a large belly and pink face. I kindly ask that you please take a moment of silence to imagine the horrendous earth-quake sounds that could possibly come from this man. Well, these snores could start an avalanche. I think it must be some sort of serious health condition and that man needs to be put on a respirator... He slept in the bed below Agnes, next to me and Manasi, in his matching plaid pajama outfit.
The next resident was a skinny, gauntly pale woman who quite possibly could have been coming down off of a crack binge. She had stringy hair and wide, paranoid eyes.
There was only one bunk-bed left, but three Spaniards walked in. Two out of the three were lovers, so they shared the bottom bed together. The top bed went to their female friend. They were in their early 20s and all had those stylish mullets that are very popular in Spain.
So last night, Saturday night, the three of us got back to the hostel around 12. We were exhausted from a long day of museums, markets, and walking across the city. The avalanche-snores from the Swiss man were somewhat bearable. At least they actually sounded like... snores and had that 10-second grace period in between snarles. However, when the Spanish couple in the bed next to me started kissing in sloppy smooching noises full of saliva and lip-smacking sounds, I started to get a little annoyed. I mean, they could have kissed quietly. The room was over-full and people were trying to sleep. Finally, they stopped, and it was kind-of quiet except for heaving Swiss man.
Ten minutes later, the Spanish chick sleeping on the top bunk next to me started snoring. Quite possibly the loudest snarling sounds that I have ever heard in my entire life. They did not stop. These noises, coming from this little woman's body, were unbelievable. I was shocked at how loud her snores were. I sat up in bed and stared across at her to make sure that these snores were actually coming from her body. Still in my disbelief, I lay back down, with my eyebrows wrinkled and my eyes shifting. Really? Were those snores coming from her? That Swiss man had nothing on the Spanish mullet chick! I could not fall asleep. It was impossible. There was not even a grace period in between her snores. They were one right after the other. I was becoming incredibly annoyed while my ears twitched to the terrible, awful noises coming from this girl's mouth and nose. Did she have a megaphone over there?
I lay there for 20 minutes, thinking maybe I would just fall asleep. I wasn't kidding anybody. I don't think anyone in the room was sleeping other than the Spanish girl and the Swiss man. We were all laying there in disbelief of our incredibly unlucky sleeping situation.
I was becoming so angry and annoyed that I felt compelled to slap her in the face. Of course, trying to remain as rational as possible, I clutched my pillow and figured this would make a more humane weapon. I preferred to stay away from body to body contact. Right before I was about to chuck my pillow at her face, I paused and realized this was also a very bad idea. If I threw my pillow at her, she would definitely know it was me, and then I would have no pillow. So I looked around to see what was in my reach. Right next to my head, her scarf hung on the bed post. I stared at it and thought of the possibilities while she continued to growl in her awful, unbearable sounds. Few lights from the hallway barely lit the room. My eyes had adjusted at this point and I could see my target just fine.
I took a deep breath and lay supine in my wobbly top-bunk. I closed my eyes and thought maybe I should try praying or something. Perhaps meditate? I could not relax. As I was trying to count sheep backwards in my mind, the Spanish chick let out the loudest, echoing, wall-shaking snore. In a form of instant reaction, I flipped onto my belly, grabbed her scarf, rolled it into a ball, and threw it right at her face. My head remained peaked over the top-bunk baracade, with my eyes peering over the wooden rail squinting at my target. In a moment the girl startled, her snores ceased, and I ducked my head beneath the rail, slamming my face into the pillow. I shut my eyes to fake-sleep. Mission accomplished. I had at least ten minutes to fall asleep before she would start snoring again.
At 7:30 in the morning my wonderful fellow-residents began waking. We were all just sort of lying there, in our beds, quiet. In the subtle quietness, the Spanish male let out two trumpet-sounding morning farts, fluttering out from beneath his blankets. I laughed a little bit. I mean, really? Couldn't that guy hold it in? Not to mention his third, elongated, high-pitch morning fart that sang through our room and sort of sputtered at the end in its pathetic finale. His girlfriend was lying next to him all the while.


to-be-continued...