Bohemia

Due to popular demand (I like to tell myself this) I must post a new blog. And, well, I did just travel to Prague for five days so I suppose I have a few things to report. It's overwhelming for me to think that I need to write a blog all about Prague... so I am going to do this bullet-point style like I have in previous posts.

-Praha (the Czech-way to say it) is quite fabulous. I can honestly say that the Old Town Square took my breath away. In order to get to Old Town Square, one must weave through a very narrow alley-way with the soft padding sounds of cobblestone below their feet and tall buildings towering over them. And then, unexpectedly, (like that scene in "The Land Before Time" where they are in the cave and all of a sudden are opened up to the vast valley of Paradise) you are peering out of the narrow street and into the wide-open, breath-taking sqaure of Old Town Prague. Before you is an enormous, intricate and gothic astronomical clock. To the right is a giant, castle-looking cathedral with pointy towers and crucifixes. In the middle is a huge sculpture, statue-thing that is green in color and has stairs around the bottom of it where people sit and enjoy the crowd. There are cafes, restuarants, and shops all in beautiful buildings. There is an excellent Salvador Dali exhibition (70 koruna for students which is less than $5USD for entrance fee). There are native Czechs singing and playing their instruments for smiles and money. It's magical, enchanting, phenomenal...

-Oh, and one more thing... in that little alley-way that leads to Old Town Sqaure... there is a Medieval Sex Toys Museum (which cost over $15USD for entrance fee, so, No-Thank-You). Plus the medieval sex toy on display in the lobby, and the post cards, looked a little masochistic. That was good enough for me.

-There is a large open street in the city center with lots of shopping, a McDonalds, and a tasty little trolly cafe in the middle of the street where I had an espresso almost everyday and their Honey Cake twice (exellent Graham-cracker crust with a soft, spongy middle).

-I went to the Municipal House where they had a photography exhibit for the month called the "Diversity of Planet Earth." There were striking images of natural landscapes, people, cultures, technology, insects...of everything, around the world, about the world, places nearly untouched by man (mind-blowing) and little explanations of the photos in Czech and English. There was a photograph of glaciers way down South around Antarctica. I really wanna see that for myself one day.

-"Get a Taste of Prague." I went to the Staropramen Brewery that was a ten-minute walk from my hostel. Their traditional brew was golden and smooth and crisp. Can't have just one!

-The view from Castle Hill encompasses all of Prague.

-And don't forget about Charles Bridge... Jew Town (as I like to call it), Puppet Shows, the Dancing Building, Bohemia Crystal, Langos, sausages, jazz clubs, live music and cobblestone everywhere...

-Oh! And one last thing. The Czech take their dogs EVERYWHERE! Even on the subway.

sunset

Clouds lining the sky outlined in bright magenta, highlighter pink... the colors blending into the cloud, and filling the gaps where the evening sky shown through. Vibrance.

a warmer, sunnier day

-A rowdy Black Jack tournament just down my hall kept me up late last night. They were playing for... real money. So, I opted to sit that one out and be a spectator. Gambling isn't quite my thing. I never truly understood the concepts of probability in my Statistics class.
-Consequently I slept in this morning until 11am since I did not go to sleep until 3:30am.
-I ate breakfast, showered, then wrote out a few postcards.
-I walked through the neighborhood... the trees are blossoming!!!
-I stood in line at the Posta behind a petite, elderly woman with a fuzzy hat on. She looked over and started talking to me in Hungarian. I got a little flustered and finally managed to say, "nem magyarul bescelek (I don't speak Hungarian)." She shrugged her shoulders and turned back around.
-I went to the market and left with a bag full of tomato sauce, spaghetti noodles, Hungarian cabernet sauvignon, cheese and onion flavored chips, bread rolls, and cheese.
-I sat on a bench and people watched.
-I browsed a small stand set up on the sidewalk. There was jewelry, uniquely patterned bandanas, wooden spoons/bowls/cups, and shawls. Can you guess what I bought?
-I stopped at the home of the best-cappuccino-in-the-world and treated myself to such a delight while Manasi ate their finom (delicious) scrambled eggs with onion and ham washed down with a Pepsi.
-I pet a little Shi-tzu that was trotting around inside of the tiny restaurant.
-I came back to my hostel, checked my email for information on next semester's registration (I know, already...). I want to take Poetry Writing, Technical Writing, Intermediate Spanish Grammar, and Spanish Phonetics. I need to write my advisor by Friday.
-I am about to make myself dinner... a cheese, garlic, tomato, and paprika sandwich toasted on a fresh bread roll.
-And then I have Hungarian Language homework.

p.s. I have to go back to Immigration tomorrow (the 4th time... sheesh!) because they spelled my last name wrong on my resident's visa: Villock. Yeah, oops. The sticker, however, is quite a nice little addition to my passport. :)

Szia!

Latest fashion trend in Hungary: (Women) Purple, magenta, pink, cherry cola, plum, or violet hair. And I am talking women of all ages. Pink highlights in your 50s is the new gray! (Men) Incredible unibrows or long, curled nose-hairs that twitch when you breathe.

No private space: Hungarians stand directly behind you in line (at the store, bank, posta, market...) and nearly rest their chins on your shoulder to keep an eye on every move you make.

Trust issues: According to my politics professor who is Hungarian himself, Hungarians do not trust the government or people who are a part of the government or a part of any sort of beaucratic institution. This is a serious sociological consequence from the communist rule unique to Hungary; other Earstern Bloc countries have not had and do not have this problem. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/5358546.stm

Life Tastes Good: Coca Cola was not introduced to Hungary until the very late 80s, at the turn of the decade because communist rule did not want any Western influence in Hungary whatsoever. According to my dear Hungarian friend Agi, absolutely no one was allowed in or out of the country. Her Mom is very religious and was not allowed to practice or pray in any fashion. Religion was forbidden. "This was very, very terrible for my mother," she explained, "She's Catholic."

Vocabulary: Titkos ugynok - secret agent. Szeretlek - I love you. Semmi baj - It's all good.

Baby blues: Beautiful Hungarians... olive skin, electric blue eyes, and thick, ebony hair. They are mysterious, too. Absolutely no eye contact if you are passing them on the street, at the market, in the posta... No stranger-smiles. Men stare at the ground as they pass you.

The question: "So, why Hungary?" My response, "Uhhh... a gulyasleves (the goulash)?"

what to do on cold, windy, rainy, cloudy days??

Yesterday it snowed! I had to walk home, 5 miles, uphill... in blistering winds...
Well, maybe it flaked. The little snow particles disappeared in the air, about 2 feet before potential landing.
But it's still really cold and windy and dark. When I wake up in the morning, there is frost all over my window. Gray skies and freezing winds make me wanna stay inside all day... yuck. Yesterday in class, I gazed out the window and simply imagined a bright blue sky and flowers blooming. I felt happier just from the thought of it...
So what can I do when this weather only makes me feel down and lethargic? I've never really been a mall-shopper, so that's not really an exciting option for me. Generally on days like these I would venture to a coffee shop or a bookstore... so yesterday I treated myself to a cappuccino. It was nice. But the bookstores here have hardly any books published in English, and really nowhere to sit around and enjoy the bookstore atmosphere. Bookstores here don't have little couches everywhere and the occasional coffee stand. They're more strictly business... or, maybe I would enjoy them more leisurely if I could read Hungarian. So then I think to myself, well, why not a movie? What about the theater? What about a new restaurant adventure? Well, last night about 12 of us took taxis downtown to a Tex Mex restaurant! Oh the flavors of home! I ordered a chicken quesadilla with green peppers and onions. It came with a side of guacamole! I swear! This was very exciting for me. Especially when they brought us habanero sauce and when I noticed margaritas on their cocktail menu.
Yet, of course, it cost me more than the gyros stand down the street...
We (Manasi, Agnes, and I) tried scoping out the theater situation, and movies that are in English won't be playing until next week. At least it will only be 600 forint (less than $4USD).
So today, I think I just might bundle up and walk to the market, but other than that the stairmaster is calling my name and so are Shakey Bill and Herman. Maybe I will go to a disko-tek tonight, too. I hope this weather takes care of itself soon.

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...

loomings

Spring is coming. It's getting warmer...
I am acclimating and feeling more and more comfortable here. Tomorrow I have to go to the immigration office once more to prove that I have transportation back to the United States and then I will receive my visa. This weekend I went to an Italian Ska concert at a local bar. It was very fun and I danced wildly with my Hungarian friends all night. Ska music is very very upbeat and bands usually consist of drums, guitar, bass, trombone, trumpet, and saxophone. Tomorrow I am also meeting another Hungarian friend of mine for lunch. Her name is Agnus and we sit next to each other in my Meville class.
I am not feeling all that inspired to write in my blog, I feel like I am still observing. Observing carefully, respectfully, and interacting when appropriate and when I feel comfortable. I know my way around now. I love the 30-40 minute walk to the city center. I also enjoy the 20 minute walk to my faculty. There are always Hungarians walking about the neighborhood of all ages, going to the produce stands, the market, the posta, the bank, the bakery, the deli. I have also noticed far more elderly people walking about here than I do in the United States. I understand I live in Arizona, where the sun lights your skin on fire in the summertime. But other times in the year, most of the year actually, Tucson has beautiful weather. I see elderly people walking around here all the time... walking theirs dogs, hanging up clothes, carrying bags of groceries back to their homes. Perhaps Tucson is too big and does not have such an effective mass transit system like Pecs (and all of Europe) does? And I am talking about an age of people who were most likely here during the Communist Eastern Bloc. I always watch them walking around and wonder what kinds of lives they have had.
That brings up another observation. The people here are somber. I told Manasi about this and she said that sounds like a sad word, and it is, but she agreed. People here don't really make eye contact with you walking on the streets, they don't really smile to strangers. And it isn't that Hungarians are rude or mean at all, they are just a little more quiet. They are somber. When interacting one on one, they are incredibly kind and as helpful as possible (considering the language barrier). The woman at the Posta who knows Manasi and I as "the Americans" is always very kind to us and helps us as much as she can. The couple who run the capuccino/Gyros shop are the same way. There is always this haze, hanging low, hovering in the sky. I suppose it might be fog. But really, I see it, and I am in it, and it makes me feel... war. I can feel that a devastating war to Hungarian people was here, in this country, on this land. And I also attribute this to the somberness of the people. You can still feel the affects of communism. It lingers here.